Prematurely Adults

CHAPTER TWELVE

Stacey Jensen

That fucking jerk! Ugh, I hate him so much right now. Dropping me off at the corner like I'm some hooker. That he took around the block for a quick cheap screw. He didn't utter one word to me. My feet didn't even touch the ground yet and then he was speeding away. As if he couldn't stand to be in my presence. I wipe the never-ending tears away with the back of my hand. It's like the tear faucet had a pipe burst in the back of my eyes. I burst through the front door that is in serious need of a new coat of varnish. My aunt is so cheap, the door will have to fall off and crumble into a million splinters before she would buy a new one. The bain of my existence is standing in the sitting room and seems to be gloating. The neon green tracksuit she has on is blinding. I'm tempted to go in search of a pair of sunglasses.

"What!" I snap feeling self-conscious all of a sudden when her eyes do a thorough scan of my body from top to bottom. "Nothing," she says and does the one-shoulder shrug thing. That gleam never left her tawny greedy eyes. I've got a nagging feeling that she knows I am pregnant and just waiting to drop a bomb on me. "Where's your boyfriend?" She spits and makes a show out of staring over my shoulders as if expecting Ryan to walk through the door that I had left wide open bitch! "Why you wanna know? You want to start an affair with him too?" I say snidely. She scoffs like the very thought of dating Ryan is beneath her superior self. She is truly a self-absorbed bitch who thinks she is God's gift to men with saggy breasts and all. I don't wait on a response. I walk past her and run upstairs taking it two at a time. I speed-dial Shaun's number as I push through my untidy bedroom. He answers on the first ring.

"Miss Jensen?"

("I need a ride to my mother's house?) I blurt coming straight to the point.

"I'll send someone" this is what I like about him. He doesn't ask questions. me.

("Thank you. I'll be waiting for a block away from my house")

"Sure okay I'll let Kyle know"
And then the call ends. Who the hell is Kyle? I've never heard about Kyle. And I know all the bodyguards on dad's payroll. He must be a new hire. I grab a few things and shove them in my sleepover bag and make a mental note to stop at the supermarket and buy food and snacks. It's going to be a personal long weekend for me. Starting today. I didn't have to wait long because the sound of a roaring engine can be heard down the road. It slows down from the high-speed chase from seconds ago. I think literal drool is dripping from my mouth at the sight of a sleek glossy black 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS muscle car stopping in front of me. 

The driver's side door swings open and a buzz-cut head is the first thing I see of the driver. The man slams the door shut and round the hood hiding his face behind a pair of black aviator sunglasses. Damn, he is hot and looks like he belongs on a runway alongside male supermodel Jon Kortajarena. Mel would go crazy if she were to meet him. He removes his sunglasses and I am struck speechless. I don't notice guys because my boyfriend is super hot and should come with a warning label. It's the same with this guy. If Ryan should see me standing here with him. He would go crazy mad and start swinging. He is wearing all-black jeans, a shirt, a leather jacket, and boots. I can see a hint of a tattoo creeping out by his neck. Damn super hot. "Miss Jensen I assume" he speaks in a deep gruff tone of voice. "Uh yes," I blurt after a short tense pause of admiring his physical attributes. "My name is Kyle, Shaun sent me to come to get you" he explains and reaches out to take my bag. Which I hand over without complaining. This guy is tall like six two and looks strong, fit, and like he has the stamina to survive all kinds of extreme fighting. Like being thrown in a cage with a sumo wrestler and he would come out the victor by breaking the fat wrestler's neck without breaking a sweat. Shaun truly has a type when it comes to hiring new bodies. They all resemble him in height, body, width, and mannerisms. Kyle is a perfect example. "Shall we get going?" Kyle's gruff tone snaps me out of my quiet musings. "Uh yes" I answer and he opens the passenger door for me. I climb in and he shut the door behind me. A few moments later Black Sabbaths into the void blare through the sound system. I wouldn't have pegged him as a rock fan.