My what? "My what?" He looked at me slyly, "I am your-" I cut him off. "I heard what the duck you said sir, but you aren't my father. This isn't fucking Star Wars and my name isn't Luke. I don't know what drugs you're on-" He laughed. Bitch what the fuck is funny right now?!
"I can assure you, I am not on any drugs and I am your father." I turned to my mother, hoping she'd slap this man silly. Instead, she looked at me with an expression I hoped wouldn't be. Guilt.
I turned to the man who claimed to be my father and slapped him. "You expect me to believe you?! My father is dead! And if you really are my father and you aren't dead, you're dead to me." I spat, I was seething. No way in hell was this excuse of a man going to show up unannounced and uninvited claiming to be someone he isn't!
His head, which had whipped to the side from the force of my slap, turned back to me and he had the audacity to smile. "I deserved that," "you deserved worse." I stormed out and headed for my car. I needed to blow off some steam. If that means I need to be a booty call that calls, so be it.
I dialed the number of the one person who could put me at ease. Christian Deleyore. He was our school's weed outlet. He was also the guy whom everyone had a crush on because of his cliche bad boy ways, as he states. He picked up on the first ring, "Hello, my lovely ass! To what do I owe this amazing phone call from the brooding beauty herself?" I rolled my eyes at his childish behavior, "I need weed." Let's keep it simple. "That rhymes," I heard him laughing at himself on the other line.
"Can you get it or not?" He sobered up, "this would be your what-12th batch since last month?" I nodded, before realizing he couldn't see me. "Yes, why?" "Don't you think that's a bit- I don't know... much?" I shook my head disbelievingly, was he really trying to tell me what too much weed was? He was the dealer for fucks sake! I was going to respond to his worrisome antics when pounding sounded through my glass windows. I turned and saw my "father." "Christian, I'll call you back."
I rolled my window down and turned to face forward. "What?" "I understand you may be upset about this whole ordeal," let me stop him there. "Upset? Oh no, I'm fucking livid!" He smirked ever so slightly, and I could've sworn it meant he wanted me to slap him again. "You know, I have a friend, I think you two would get along great. Both angry elves." Did he just insinuate that I was an elf? What the fuck?
"Look, you have to come with me." At that, I turned to face him. Crack. That is what this man had to be on. "You're crazy." I wish I could've slapped him once more but darkness consumed me as a cloth was pressed to my nose and mouth and I was dragged out of my car. Fuck.
YOU ARE READING
6 Overprotective Italian Mafia Brothers
RomanceBeatrice-Valentina Regio. The oh so typical life she had. She lived alone, with her mother, and was told that her father had passed away. What she didn't know, was that her mother and father had a horrible marriage and since he was the underboss of...
