My Bully’s Daddy

  My Bully’s Daddy

  Kelli Callahan

  Copyright © 2019 by Kelli Callahan

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  1. Hannah

  2. Hannah

  3. Justin

  4. Hannah

  5. Justin

  6. Hannah

  7. Justin

  8. Hannah

  9. Justin

  10. Hannah

  11. Justin

  12. Hannah

  13. Justin

  14. Hannah

  15. Justin

  16. Hannah

  17. Justin

  18. Hannah

  19. Justin

  Epilogue

  Daddy’s Best Friend: Sneak Peek

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  Kelli’s Voracious Vixens

  About the Author

  Also by Kelli Callahan

  One

  Hannah

  “Wait, what?” I sat up in my bed and tried to shake off the fogginess left behind from suddenly being jolted awake—something wasn’t right. “Mom?”

  The sun was in my face. It shouldn’t have been there. It was supposed to be buried beneath the edge of my windowsill when I woke up. It was Saturday morning when most eighteen-year-old girls were sleeping in—but I had different plans. I should have been at school for the student craft show when the sun finally showed up in the sky. Being late for the craft show wasn’t the worst thing in the world, and it wasn’t what made me panic. My mother was supposed to wake me up before she left, and if she didn’t get me out of bed, then she had overslept. I threw the covers back and quickly ran to her bedroom. Just as I suspected, she was still snoring.

  “Mom, wake up!” I rushed to the bed and gave her a quick shake. “You’re going to miss your flight—Mom!”

  “Huh?” She looked at me and blinked a couple of times. “Oh no!”

  My mother’s panic was more erratic than mine. She threw the covers off and bounced out of bed, nearly knocking me down in the process. The minutes that followed were a mad dash—me trying to get everything together so I could shower—her realizing that there wasn’t enough time for a shower because she couldn’t do that and make it to the airport before her flight was scheduled to leave. Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, she hugged me goodbye, and I waited until she was out of the driveway to run to the bathroom. I was already late, but at least I didn’t have a table of my own at the craft show—I was just planning to help one of my friends who was quite proficient at making bead jewelry that looked fancy.

  Damn, I already have five messages from Candice.

  I fired off an apology, a promise to be there as soon as I could, and then I hopped into the shower while the water was still cold. The water did a great job of erasing the fog that the panic hadn’t already lifted. I was on the road in record time—with wet hair and no makeup—but at least I was on the way to the school. I combed my hair at a red light and tried to do my makeup while I drove. Luckily, there weren’t many cars on the road. I made it to the school looking halfway presentable and then ran into the gym that was set up for the craft show. Customers were already browsing, so I headed over to Candice’s table and launched another string of apologies before sitting down to help her collect money.

  “I thought you were going to stand me up.” She replaced a couple of pieces that had already been purchased.

  “No way—I just overslept because my Mom didn’t wake me up. She almost missed her flight.” I leaned forward to talk to a customer that was staring at a pair of earrings. “Those are supposed to be $5.99, but we’re having a sale today…”

  We was nothing more than a marketing term—I wasn’t involved in Candice’s business, nor was I going to get anything for helping her. I just wanted to help. Candice was my only real friend—they were in short supply at Bradford Academy. I started there during my sophomore year after being uprooted for my mother’s job—and if her interview went well, I would probably be graduating alongside a bunch of strangers on the other side of the country. I wasn’t going to complain about leaving Bradford Academy, even though I would miss Candice if I had to go. My time there had been miserable, mostly because of the group of girls that had just walked into the gym.

  “Oh god. Bianca’s here.” I reached over and grabbed Candice’s arm. “And she brought her coven.”

  “I wish she was a damn witch instead of just a heartless bitch.” Candice tensed up. “Then we could blame her cruelty on magic…”

  Bianca and her friends referred to themselves as the Bradford Elite, and that’s exactly what they were—children of the rich, born with a silver spoon in their mouth, and privileged beyond comprehension. They looked at the rest of us like we were nothing more than peasants that were meant to bow when they walked by. Bianca was their queen. She had a homecoming crown to prove her queenship, and she would have another one to go with it after prom. There wasn’t even a reason to vote—it was nothing more than a formality. The Bradford Elite walked through the gym like they owned it and stopped to snub their noses at every table as they browsed stuff they would never buy—they didn’t buy anything unless it had a designer label. They were wearing their cheerleader uniforms—which caused more than a few husband’s eyes to stray when their wives weren’t looking.

  “They’re going to make it to our table eventually.” I shot Candice a worried glance.

  “Mr. Peterson is walking this way—maybe he’ll send them back to the football field so they can practice a few more cartwheels and handstands.” Candice motioned to our History teacher, who had drawn the short straw when they were deciding who would be responsible for the annual craft show.

  Mr. Peterson got distracted before he made it to our table—Bianca and her friends did not. I was looking forward to a peaceful day at school—even if it was a Saturday. Every single day had been hell on earth since I landed on the wrong side of the Bradford Elite. I was told that they always bullied the new kid, so I tried to take their cruelty in stride, but that just pissed them off. If I would have cowered like everyone else, I might have been another nameless peasant that wasn’t worth their time—instead, I bucked the system and pretended not to care when they antagonized me. That earned Bianca’s wrath, and her coven of heartless bitches followed her lead—just like they were following her to our table.

  “Bead jewelry.” Bianca rolled her eyes. “I liked this when I was in kindergarten—oh wait, I did arts and crafts with diamonds.”

  “This is garbage.” Amy, the girl who always stood on Bianca’s right, knocked over a few displays.

  “Stop it!” I snapped at her and started fixing the stuff that she knocked over.

  “I can’t believe you can even afford to wear trash.” Bianca leveled her gaze on me. “Much less make it…”

  “I made it.” Candice leaned forward and moved one of the displays that Jillian, the girl who always stood on Bianca’s left, seemed to be eying with disdain.

  “That figures.” Bianca drove the edge of her fingernail into Candice’s hand and pinned it to the table. “Maybe I’ll stand here for a few minutes so you can actually sell something.”

  “Ow!” Candice whimpered, and I saw blood ooze around Bianca’s fingernail.

  “Back off, Bianca!” I jumped to my feet and slapped her arm—which gave Candice an opportunity to pull her hand away.

  “You little bitch…” Bianca grabbed her arm.

  “You’re going to wish you had never laid a
hand on the queen.” Amy slammed her hands into the table and pushed it into me, which caused most of the merchandise to go flying.

  “Good morning ladies!” Mr. Peterson scurried over when he realized there was about to be a brawl.

  “Hi, Mr. Peterson!” All three members of the Bradford Elite put a sickening sweetness in their voice and greeted him in unison with plastic smiles.

  “Why don’t you go on back to the football field.” He motioned to the door. “I’m sure the rest of the squad is messing up their routine without the best cheerleaders showing them how it’s done.”

  “You’re probably right,” Bianca sighed. “Let’s go, girls. This is boring.”

  “Yeah.” Amy shot ice-daggers at me with her eyes, but she took her place at Bianca’s side when the queen started walking away.

  “We’ll see the two of you on Monday.” Jillian’s nostrils flared, and then she walked away as well.

  “I’m sorry about that.” Mr. Peterson leaned over and started picking up some of the jewelry that had been knocked to the floor. “I told Mrs. Anderson to keep the cheerleaders away from the gym today…”

  “I’m pretty sure nobody tells Bianca what to do,” I muttered under my breath and leaned over to check on Candice’s hand. “How bad is it?”

  “It’s fine.” She grabbed a napkin and soaked up the blood. “Let’s get everything set up—again.”

  “I told you I’d help you set up today.” I forced a smile, which caused Candice to give me a half-hearted one.

  It was a mild encounter with Bradford Elite and definitely not my worst. If Mr. Peterson hadn’t been there to step in, there probably would have been a fight—and I would have been lucky to go home with all of my hair. Bianca wasn’t just a mouthy bitch—she was a violent one too. Candice was no fighter, and I would have been massacred if I tried to take on three members of the Bradford Elite by myself. The customers would have probably just watched the show while I bled all over the gym floor. Most of them had kids who were students at Bradford Academy, and none of them would have risked the safety of their precious darlings to save a nobody like me. My mother could barely afford my tuition—she certainly wasn’t going to have a building named after her in exchange for a generous donation to the academy.

  “Okay, I think we’re good.” I leaned back and stared at the displays.

  “Yep—just in time for the next wave of customers.” Candice walked around the table and sat down.

  * * *

  Later that day

  Candice and I packed things up slowly once the craft show was over. We were mainly trying to kill time—hoping that the cheerleaders would be gone before we had to walk to our cars. If my inevitable confrontation with the Bradford Elite could wait until Monday, then I was going to delay it as long as possible. Everyone else was gone, and Mr. Peterson didn’t seem very happy that we were taking so long. He finally came over and offered to help, which forced us to quickly finish packing and gather the boxes of merchandise, along with the money Candice made. We decided to carry everything in one trip—being overloaded was better than having to come back. A mad dash to our cars made more sense.

  “Let’s go out the side door.” Candice motioned with a jerk of her head.

  “Okay.” I nodded and walked ahead of her.

  The front door of the gym opened to the main part of the parking lot. The side door would give us a chance to look around the edge of the building and make sure there was nobody waiting for us in the parking lot. I didn’t really think the Bradford Elite would waste that kind of time—especially when they could embarrass in front of the whole school on Monday—but it was better to be safe. The side door had a curved handle instead of a bar like the main door had, so I nudged it with my hip, then leaned forward to hit it with my elbow when that didn’t work. I managed to balance the boxes and get it open, but when I stepped forward, I felt a snag around my waist. I was already in motion, and the boxes were heavy, so I couldn’t stop—a second later I realized that the pocket of my shorts was caught on the door handle—and then I felt them rip.

  “Damn it!” I balanced the boxes to keep them from falling and felt my shorts sliding down my thighs.

  “Oh god!” Candice walked through the door behind me.

  “How bad is it?” I couldn’t free a hand to check, and the boxes were blocking my vision.

  “Um, really bad. Let’s go back inside.” She pushed her elbow against the door to keep it from closing.

  I stepped back into the gym and put down the boxes of jewelry so I could assess the damage. Candice was right—it was really bad. The pocket had caught on the door handle, and once it started to rip, it tore clean through to my panties. My shorts were hanging open, and I was practically naked if I didn’t hold them in place. The rip damaged the elastic in the waistband, so they wouldn’t even stay up on their own. Thankfully, it was just the two of us. Mr. Peterson was still in the main part of the gym. That saved me from further embarrassment, but it didn’t fix the problem.

  “Maybe you can just hold them and go to your car?” Candice looked down at my shorts. “I can just make a couple of trips.”

  “I’m supposed to stop at the grocery store on the way home,” I sighed and shook my head. “Wait—I have a pair of shorts in my PE locker. They’re dirty, but they’ll do…”

  “You really want to risk going down to the locker room?” Candice’s eyes got wide.

  “Let’s go see if the cheerleaders are even still here.” I motioned to her. “Maybe they already went to sacrifice kittens or whatever they do on the weekends when they’re not making our lives miserable.”

  Candice and I avoided Mr. Peterson so we could get to the top level of the gym and peek out the window. The cheerleaders were still on school grounds, but fortunately, they were on the football field. The PE locker room that the girls used was next to the one that the cheerleaders used, but I just needed to run down there and change into my other pair of shorts. Candice decided to carry the jewelry to her car while I ran down the side stairs—doing my best to keep my shorts up in the process. Unfortunately, the door at the bottom of those stairs was locked, which meant my only way into the locker room was the entrance that faced the football field.

  Okay, I can do this.

  I leaned against the wall to hold up my shorts and quickly sent Candice a text message before I walked out the side door of the gym. The long way around the building was the best option so that I didn’t have to walk in front of the gym. I had no idea when Mr. Peterson was going to leave, but I had managed to avoid embarrassment thus far. I made it to the entrance of the shared locker room without incident and quickly ran to my locker. I let my shorts fall to the floor when I got there so that I could open my combination lock. As soon as I got it open, I heard my cell phone buzz and looked down to see a text message from Candice.

  Candice: Get out! They’re walking that way!

  Hannah: Almost done!

  I reached into my locker, but before I could grab my shorts, I heard the door open. Laughter and sarcasm filled the hallway as the cheerleaders made their way towards the locker room. I had no choice but to hide. I took a step forward but got my ankle twisted up in the shorts that had fallen to the floor. I kicked them off and scurried around to the other side of the lockers. I hoped and prayed that the cheerleaders wouldn’t stay long—and that I wouldn’t be noticed before they did. They had to pass by the PE locker room to get to theirs, so I held my breath when I heard them getting closer.

  God, we don’t talk much, but—do you have anything for me here? A miracle would be nice.

  The man upstairs didn’t answer, but my cell phone buzzed in my hand. It scared me so bad that I almost dropped it.

  Candice: Bianca saw me! She’s standing outside now, and she’s just staring…

  Hannah: Just drive away. If she sees you leave, she won’t realize that you’re waiting for me.

  Candice: Okay. I’m so sorry!

  Hannah: I’ll be fine.

>   I hope.

  Two

  Hannah

  I was on my own. Candice had already stayed later than she intended and was spending the rest of the weekend at her mom’s house in San Diego. We were both from homes that had been shattered by divorce—except that I hadn’t seen the other half of my family tree since I was a toddler. Mom didn’t like to stay in one place long, and my sperm donor had a new family. It was probably for the best if everything I heard about him was true.

  I sat on the floor of the locker room for several minutes listening to the sound of the showers in the room next door. I could hear voices, but I really couldn’t tell what they were talking about through the wall. I prayed harder than I had ever prayed before and thought my prayers were being answered when I heard some of the girls leaving. Some of the cheerleaders were actually decent—it was the Bradford Elite I didn’t want to run into on my own. I peeked around the side of the locker—just hoping that I would see them walk by so I could put on my shorts and leave.

  “Bianca, will you lock up when you leave? I have a date tonight.” It was Mrs. Smith’s voice—the cheerleader coach.

  “Sure thing, Mrs. Smith!” Bianca’s tone was filled with sickening sugar like it always was when she was addressing the adults at Bradford Academy.

  Of course the queen has a key—why wouldn’t she?

  If I had realized Mrs. Smith was in the locker room, I would have risked an encounter with the Bradford Elite. She wouldn’t let them hurt me. I considered chasing after her in my panties—just to ask her to stay long enough for me to change—but she was gone before I had the chance to scramble to my feet. The situation was about to get a lot worse if Bianca and the Bradford Elite were the last ones in the locker room—especially if they were going to lock the door when they left. I looked down at my phone and hit the button to silence it. I didn’t want to risk it buzzing from an incoming call or text message.