So Bad (Bad Boy Next Door #1)(42)

My hands fall limp at my sides while my throat tightens. In one fell swoop my entire dream for the future has been swept out from under me. The backs of my eyes burn.

I take a deep breath. “I’ll clear out. But I did not put that camera there. And I’m not giving up on us, Mo. I won’t. I can’t.”





Danny took every trace of himself when he left.

Everything except the tiny life inside me.

I cross my arms and double over, curling into a ball as I drop my face into my pillow. The tears come from warm eyes, coursing over hotter cheeks. Humiliation bears down, leaving me with nothing but shame and hard choices to be made.

How could he do it? Why would he think it was okay? Do I have stupid written on my forehead? After the ordeal with that idiot Paul, I would never have imagined Danny could do something like this. But he did. There’s no other explanation.

My rage fades with the light. Night falls as I stare into an empty corner of my room. My eyes have dried, but my skin aches and my heart cringes with every shaky breath.

I whisper, “Oh, little baby, I’m so sorry I chose badly. I really messed up, didn’t I?”

The smile Danny wore when he realized I’m pregnant…any other time that smile would’ve lifted me to the heights of heaven, but it wasn’t any other time—it was today.

After I found that surveillance equipment.

After I learned what a douche he really is.

After my world crashed around me.

Now all I can do is pick up all the slivers and shards, put them in a paper sack to piece together another day, and get on with it. I sit up, swing my legs over the side of the bed, and pull my shoulders back. I’ve seen plenty of women who’ve got it worse than me.

I’m not completely broke. I’ve saved some money. It’s not optimal timing, but life rarely throws a soft ball. At least, not my life.

All I need to do is find a place to call home. Because I sure can’t live here, not without knowing whether there are other cameras hiding, watching, recording my every move.





I can’t face Danny’s parents, so I send an email to Charlotte explaining I feel it’s time for me to get out on my own. I’ve managed to avoid her and Dave, though I’m not sure exactly how.

I load some of my clothes into the back of my car. I don’t have any furniture to speak of. No dishes, not too many knick-knacks. Moving turns out to not be such a big deal.

Slade carries out the last suitcase and tosses it into the bed of his beat up truck. “You ready?”

I lock the door and exhale, shoulders slumping.

When I turn, Danny stumbles around the front of Slade’s truck.

Crap. I thought we’d get out of here before he came down.

He points at me as he weaves closer. “You shloudnut leave, Mo. Don’t go. I wan you t’stay.”

My heart seizes.

Slade steps between me and Danny. “Hey, buddy. This is happening. You sober up and give her a call tomorrow.”

Danny pushes Slade with both hands right in the chest. “Fluck you, man. Mo’s mine. She’s—she’s wit me.”

To his credit, Slade just blocks Danny from dodging around him. “Mo, get in the truck. Lover boy here can crawl back up to his house.”

I edge toward the truck. “We can talk tomorrow, Danny.” Or not.

For a drunk, Danny’s fast. He manages to slip past Slade’s arm and grabs hold of my hands. “Please. Jus lis—listen. Dad did the cameras. I didn’t do anythling.”

Slade grabs hold of Danny by the shoulders, moving him around until Danny’s legs twist together and he falls over.

Danny raises his hand as though he’s reaching for me. “It was him. All Dad. He’s the perv. I love you, Mo.”

My face grows hot. Unbelievable. I cover my mouth, shaking my head. “God, Danny. Really? That’s the best you could come up with? You’re going to blame your dad? He’s a freaking preacher.”

Danny bounces up like a kid’s blow-up punching toy. Again he tries to get around Slade, his expression hardening when I get into the truck and close the door.

He says something I can’t hear because the windows are up. Then he throws a punch at Slade, who ducks to the side. Danny’s fist lands on the wheel well of Slade’s old truck with a loud thump. He rolls to the ground, but doesn’t stay down.

I fling the door open. “Danny, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Not dicalous! This guy’s goin’ take you away.” His fist flies through the air again.

This time Slade steps into him, catching Danny around the waist when he almost falls over from the momentum of his own swing.

Slade says, “C’mon, man. Don’t make me have to put your ass down.”