X X I V . E M B R A C E I T

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EVERY LITTLE THING
Copyright © 2020 by MischiefMaidenX

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X X I V . E M B R A C E  I T

A D A M

There's a ridiculous amount of thrill swirling around in my gut as I climb from my work vehicle that's now parked in the driveway of the Daniels property. Popping the back hatch open, Freya jumps down and barks happily as Bex walks out of her front door. She leans over to give Freya some love and when she opens the screen door back up for Freya to enter the house, I hear the boys yell for her from the open kitchen window to the right.

"Don't worry honey, they'll keep her entertained and she'll make sure they stay in line," Bex winks and reaches up to give me a warm hug that I graciously return.

"Thank you for doing this for me, Bex. I know it was last minute and a school night," I worry before she waves at the air while shrugging. A smile crosses her face as she twirls a set of keys in her hands.

"It's okay. It'll be good for Nate and I. It's been quite a few years since we've had younger kids in the house staying over on a school night. Besides, we love having Lance over. He's a great kid and even under all that tough exterior, he's got a heart of gold. Much like some teenage boy I knew of years ago," she quirks a brow while looking up at me, making me blush.

Yeah, what can I say? Lance is a lot like how his old man was at his age. Well, almost. He for sure hasn't had the same upbringing and will never experience what I endured from the time I was ten years old to when I finally had enough and left to the army.

Lance may be a lot like his old man but I'm nothing like mine. I've made sure of it. None of Greg Michaelson's bad blood runs through my veins. Not even my mother, for that matter. I'd never abandon my son no matter how hard life got. Even after losing Evangelina to cancer and feeling lost while wanting to give up, I couldn't.

Both of my parents were straight-up pieces of shits that should've never had a child in the first place. Fuck them, both of them, and wherever the fuck they are now, no doubt causing unnecessary grief to others. Last I heard my mother was somewhere back in New York, her go-to place and where she met my dad at, but that was almost fifteen years ago when she sent a postcard to my old man, rubbing it in his face. Thanks for that mom, got a wonderful beating that night. And my father, dipped out of Clinton Hills after I left because he had set a bad enough reputation for himself that not even the use of alcohol could help him hide from it. By now, he's either dead from alcohol poisoning or in prison. Good riddance either way.

I shake off the tremor of anger that overwhelms me whenever I think of those two and follow Bex as she leads me to the back where the detached three-car garage is at. She unlocks the side door before opening the automatic door. I stand in front of it, watching the door slowly slide up and when I see the small tarp in the corner that's concealing a certain vehicle, a smile grows on my face. Damn it's been years.

"Even though it's been in the garage, Nate put a tarp over it so dust wouldn't mess it up," Bex informs me as she walks over and pulls the tarp off, exposing my first baby. Well, that's if you can consider an object being a baby.

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