The Good Girl's Property

2."...Before I Decide You're Not Worthy of Reproducing."

Please, please read the Author's Note to find out about my absence. Thanks.

~Jayy xx

NOT EDITED

 Am I more than you 

Bargained for yet, I've

Been dying to tell you anything, you want

To hear,

'Cause that's just who I am this week.

(Sugar, We're Going Down - Fall Out Boy)

Fuck.

There's no better way to describe how I'm feeling.

Drew's back tenses and his fingers tighten around my waist as I lock up, freezing and wishing time could freeze with me so that I could push Andrew Steele off of a cliff. I nervously sink my nails into Drew's side, making him wince slightly, but keep quiet.

"What are you doing here?" Drew's voice is straining, but calm and controlled.

"Why, a father can't visit his own son?" Andrew's voice is deep, mocking, and eerily similar to Drew's. Actually, they share a lot of things alike. The only difference is hair colour and ... well personality.

One is flirty, fun, and achingly mine.

The other is a dipshit.

You decide.

"No," Drew's lips form a dangerous scowl, one that has get the hell away written all over it."You stopped being a father the moment you handed over mom, the moment you handed over Evangeline, to save your sorry ass," I try to nonchalantly touch his waist. His jaw is twitching in anger and his grip on my hips has tightened to the point of pain. 

He notices immediately and loosens his arm around me. I reach to my side and stop his arm from falling from my waist before it can, lacing my fingers through his. He relaxes a little bit, but not much.

"Leave," my sweet, caring boyfriend - well, as much of 'sweet' and 'caring' he is sometimes - looks his father dead in the eyes, his own a shade darker and a stormy blue, a colour that pierces hate into his own flesh and blood.

"Listen, Drew," Andrew hisses. "I have some news on V, his plans on escaping prison, and his plans on hunting your stubborn ass down. Will you listen to me, or not?"

Drew is stuck for a moment in hesitation, glancing towards me. I avert my eyes, not giving anything away. This is not my decision, especially where we are right now.

"Fine," Drew rubs his face with his palm, "fine."

He widens the door just enough for the man to walk in. Andrew locks his electrifying eyes on me as he steps inside, avoiding anywhere near Drew. Well, I wouldn't want to be so close to him either - he looks pissed. Scary pissed.

"Sorry about the mess," Drew spits as he slams the door to our apartment. I glance around to see if anything's untidy. Just a few boxes, nothing too big.

"It's not a problem," Andrew Senior, notorious for being an asshole and my boyfriend's fuckface dad, brushes off slightly. "Not even that messy."

With a pointed look towards his dad, Drew growls, "I was talking to Dylan, you piece of shit."

A resounding gasp echoes across the room, and I soon discover it's my own intake of breath. I lock my jaw downwards as Drew perches himself at the armrest of our couch, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.