Bastard(4)

By: J.L. Perry



Slamming the trunk shut, I make my way around to the passenger side of the car. “Wipe your damn feet before you get in the car,” he barks. I swear if there were some dog shit nearby right now, I’d tread in it just to spite him.

Sighing, I do as he asks before seating myself in the passenger side. “Prick,” I mumble under my breath.

“Watch that smart mouth of yours, boy. I won’t tolerate you speaking like that in my house, and especially in front of your mother.” I’d never speak like that to my mum. Him though, that’s a whole other story.

Ignoring him I turn my head, gazing out the window, taking one last look at my home as he backs out of the drive. Christ, it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours and I already want to punch him.

Not a word is spoken on the drive to his place. I’m thankful for that. My stomach is in knots. Living with this arsehole is going to be pure fucking hell. I have no idea what my mother sees in him, but surprisingly he makes her happy. That’s the only reason I’m going along with this bullshit. I’m doing it for her, no other reason. After everything she has sacrificed for me she deserves to be happy.

It’s about an hour’s drive from my old neighbourhood to the gates of hell. Fuck, I need a cigarette. As soon as we pull into the street I’ll now be calling home, my heart rate picks up. The street is lined with perfect houses, with perfect lawns and fancy manicured gardens.

I hate it here already.

“This is your new home, my home. Remember that,” Fuckwit says when we pull into the driveway.

“Whoop-de-fucking-do,” I reply as I exit the car before he has a chance to say another word. I make my way around to the back of the vehicle to unpack the boxes. Of course that lazy fucker heads straight inside. I guess I’ll be doing all the work again.

Figures.

As I go to open the trunk, I’m stopped when I hear laughter. Pure, sweet, sickening laughter. My head snaps in the direction it came from, and that’s when I see her. Well actually, the first thing I see is her tight little arse. She’s bending over patting a dog, wearing these sexy little shorts. Tearing my eyes away from her, they land on the dog. It’s a long-haired German Shepherd.

The perfect dog.

Growing up I always wanted a dog like that, but living in an apartment building that didn’t allow animals made it impossible.

When the girl stands up straight my eyes move up to her long, dark hair that now cascades down her lean back. The sun’s beaming down on it, illuminating its shine. I find myself wishing she’d turn around so I can see her face. She doesn’t, so my gaze moves back down to her arse. Fuck me, what an arse.

Images of me wrapping her hair around my wrist as I bend her over, pounding her from behind enter my mind. It makes my dick stir. Jesus, why did I let my thoughts go there? Her body might be rockin’, but that doesn’t mean her face is. I guess, if I was giving it to her from behind, that wouldn’t really be a problem anyway.

I watch as she raises her arm, throwing the ball across the yard. She’s got a pretty good throw for a girl. The dog turns, galloping towards it. When he makes his way back he almost bowls her over in his excitement. She starts to laugh again, and I feel the corners of my lips turn up in a smile as I watch them.

“Good boy,” she says in a sweet voice as she scratches him behind the ears. “Who’s a good boy?” When the dog notices me standing there watching, he drops the ball from his mouth and trots in my direction.

“Hey boy,” I say holding my hand out for him to sniff. He seems friendly so I reach down, running my fingers through his long mane. I can feel my smile widen. Smiling is something I don’t usually do.

“Lassie,” I hear her call out, making my smile instantly turn into a scowl. She’s got to be fucking kidding. Lassie? She had the audacity to name this cool dog Lassie. What in the hell was she thinking? He looks more like a Rambo or Butch, definitely not a fucking Lassie.

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