SEAL's Baby (Navy SEAL Secret Baby Romance) (62 page)

I shook my head.
Maybe the cops would be lenient on me since it was my first large offense.
Never mind that I’d shoplifted and stuff like that.

“No, sir.”

“Sir, huh. Now you
get manners? You try to boost my car and you call me sir? How old are you?”

“Eighteen, sir.”

He nodded. “You go
to the local high school?”

“Yes, sir.”

The man must be
waiting for the cops to arrive. My stomach took that moment to rumble. A loud
and long sound that was unmistakable. The man’s face softened. “You hungry?”

“Yes, sir.”

Well, what was I
supposed to say? My stomach had just sang a song if its people, so I couldn’t
deny it. “What’s your name?”

“Dylan.”

“You got a last
name?”

“Cabot.”

I licked my lips.
I had no idea how I was getting out of this situation. Fuck. Shit. This had been
stupid of me. If my mother was even awake, she was going to be pissed. I bet
she’d let me stay in jail all night.

“Dylan Cabot who
is hungry and trying to steal my car. Well, Dylan Cabot, it’s your lucky day. I
haven’t called the cops and I won’t call the cops if you do me a favor.”

Shit, I’d do
anything at this point. “Sure.”

“Let me take you
home. I’m sure someone is worried about you.”

I shook my head.
“No. No one.”

“We’ll get takeout
on the way so you have something to eat. If I let go, are you going to run?
Remember, I know your name, now.”

I shook my head,
the lure of food pretty strong. If I had enough food, I’d eat all the time.
“No.”

He let go of my
hand and my better judgement prevailed because I didn’t run.

“Now, let’s switch
places, and I’ll take you home,” the man said.

“What’s your
name?”

“I’m Rob Dean,” he
said, holding out his hand.

I shook it then we
both climbed out of the car. I looked at him for a moment, unsure if he was
joking. I had tried to steal his car and now he was buying me dinner and
driving me home. What bizarre world had I stepped into.

“Buckle up,” Mr.
Dean said when I climbed back into the car.

I really expected
Ashton Kutcher to jump out and tell me that I’ve been punked.

“It’s okay, son.
You care what fast food we stop at?”

“Uh, no sir,” I
said.

I’d eat garbage at
this point, which was probably what would have happened. I’d have gone dumpster
diving behind the burger joint. Now, I was actually getting food from it.

But tomorrow I’d
wake up hungry, so I might as well enjoy this meal now.

***

When we got closer
to my house, I turned to Mr. Dean. “You can let me out here.”

“No, I’m taking
you all of the way. I’m not going to tell your parents what you did.”

I clutched the bag
of food he’d bought me while I searched for a way to get him to stop. He didn’t
need to see the trailer I lived in. He didn’t need to see my mother in her
bathrobe, assuming she was even awake. If she lost her job today, she would be
drinking. Among other things.

I couldn’t have
been more embarrassed. “No, really. I need to get out here. My driveway is
rutted and it’ll do damage to your car.”

“No go, son. I
take you all the way there or I take you to the police station.”

Shit. I frowned at
him and didn’t say anything until we reached the driveway.

“See. It’s a mess.
You don’t need to damage your car.”

Mr. Dean eyed the
driveway then pulled off the road. “Then, we’ll walk the rest of the way.”

I looked at his
nice pants and dress shoes. It had rained this morning. “You’re going to get
muddy.”

“Everything is
replaceable.”

Spoken like a man
with a big paycheck. I climbed out of the car. At least, I could find a path
that wouldn’t be so muddy.

The trailer I
lived in was at the end of a long driveway. A rotted car sat to one side of the
driveway. My mother said it had been hers, but it broke down and she couldn’t
get it fixed. She’d been relying on rides from coworkers and several had let
her down. That’s why she was fired. She hadn’t shown up for a few shifts this
week.

I would have to
apply for food stamps again, posing as her online, but I needed a computer for
that. I had figured out how to get internet. A neighbor hadn’t secured their
network and I could use it if I stayed at one end of the trailer.

“Is anyone home?”

“I only live here
with my mother. She may already be asleep.”

“This early?”

“She works odd
hours.”

Or in this case,
doesn’t work. Mr. Dean nodded. “Okay, but I’d like to meet her.”

“I’ll see if I can
wake her.”

I opened the front
door. The smell hit me. She hadn’t cleaned. I hadn’t cleaned. In weeks. I tried
to spend as little time here as possible, but I knew that sometimes my mother
needed me to take care of her.

My mother was
passed out on the couch when I turned on the light. Mr. Dean pulled out his phone.
“Go check her. I’ll call an ambulance.”

He was barely
inside the house and I could see he was wrinkling up his nose. I checked my
mother. She was still breathing. “Mom.”

She didn’t stir. I
blinked at her then shook her harder. “Mom.”

Mr. Dean put a hand
on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Dylan. The ambulance is on the way.”

The police arrived
first, but there was nothing they could do. She wasn’t responding, but she was
breathing. Then, the paramedics worked on her.

“Let’s go outside,
Dylan,” Mr. Dean said.

He stood with me
while the cops asked me questions. He kept his hand on my shoulder and for that
moment, someone had my back. No had ever had my back. Not in my entire life.

“You came here and
just found her like this?” the officer asked me.

I nodded. “Yes,
sir.”

“Does she drink?”

“Yes.”

I couldn’t look
him in the eye. I could tell he was viewing me with pity. I didn’t want
anyone’s pity. I wanted a hand out of this place, but that was never going to
happen. I was eighteen – too old to be put into the system.

I was on my own
having been dealt a shit hand.

“Does she do
drugs?”

“Yes, sir,” I
said.

Always nice to
have one’s life laid out for strangers. I wanted to eat my burger and go to
bed. Forget that this all happened. Or figure out another way to get a computer.
Anything but stand here while these two men dissected his life.

“Okay. I need to
talk to the paramedics. Do you know what drugs she does?”

“No sir. I never
paid attention.”

My mother had
taught me call all adult males sir. It was probably the only thing good thing
she taught me. When I glanced up at him, the officer nodded, but he didn’t look
as if he believed me.

I wanted to shout
that I had bigger plans for myself than a trailer in the woods. Maybe I’d go
into the military or to trade school. I just had to figure out how to get out
of high school alive.

The paramedics
took my mother out of the house. She still hadn’t woken up yet. If she died, I
was going to have to quit school to make money. Otherwise, I’d have no place to
live. Shit. Shit. Shit.

I wanted to punch
something. Mr. Dean squeezed my shoulder. “Dylan will come home with me.”

“He’s eighteen, he
can do what he wants,” the officer said.

The both stared at
me. I still had the sack of burgers in my hand. I really just wanted to eat them.

“How about you eat
your dinner, then you can decide. Hard to think on an empty stomach,” Mr. Dean
suggested.

I nodded, then
followed him in. I didn’t look at the couch. I just sat in the kitchen. I could
hear Mr. Dean moving around in the living room. He finally sat down with me as
I finished my food. I did feel better.

“You are free to
do what you want, Dylan, but I suggest you come home with me. I have a bedroom
for you and we can figure out what’s next.”

I nodded. It was
the best offer I’d gotten in awhile.

Chapter
Two

Taylor

Mom had picked me
up and told me that Dad had been out. I loved my mom, but I enjoyed the time in
the car with my dad. He was much more laid back than my mother and I could talk
to him about so much.

I could ask him about
boys and he wouldn’t get upset or tell me that I couldn’t date certain boys. I
was eighteen, and he respected that I needed a little more freedom. My mom was
all about the appearances – what I looked like and who I hung out with.

It was so
annoying. All I wanted to do was go to school, cheerlead, and hang out with my
friends. Why do I have to be bothered about what I look like? People like me.
I’m smart, sort of. I get so disgusted by her.

She makes me show
her how I look before school every day. I know how to dress. She taught me,
after all. I thought she should leave me alone. We don’t talk the whole ride
home. When we got there, Dad’s car was in the driveway.

I hopped out to go
see my daddy. I missed our talk on the ride home. I had a question for him that
I didn’t think my mom could answer. Flying in the front door, I stopped dead at
the strange guy sitting in my living room.

“What are you
doing here?”

The boy stood. He
looked a little familiar, but I was scared.

“I’m Dylan. Your
father brought me home,” he said.

“Dylan? Where’s my
father?” I raced down the hall to the kitchen before he could answer. “Daddy?”

“What, pumpkin?”

I stopped in the
doorway to the kitchen. My dad was putting food on a plate.

“Who is that guy
in the living room?”

“That’s Dylan
Cabot.”

I had heard of
him. He was a burnout and bad news. Why was he in my living room? My friends
were coming over after dinner. “Why is he here?”

“He had no place
to stay, and his mother is in the hospital,” he said.

It still didn’t
make sense. “How did you meet him?”

“That not
important, pussycat. He’s staying with us for a few days.”

I blinked.
“Staying with us? Does Mom know?”

“Not yet.”

The front door
closed and my mother strode into the kitchen. “What is that tattooed boy doing
in our living room?”

“Relax, Mallory.
He needed a place to stay, so I offered him one of our bedrooms. We have more
than we need.”

“He looks like
trouble.”

“Well, he is in
trouble and I’d appreciate you being nice to him. The kid’s had it rough, and
he needs our help.”

“Robert Dean, you
are a softy. Do you have a plan?”

“Not yet. But I
will.”

She frowned. My
mother didn’t like people in the house. She only tolerated my friends because
we went into the basement and she couldn’t hear us. My mother could be a bitch.
I bet she was going to give Dad a hard time about Dylan after I went to bed.

“Dylan,” my dad
yelled.

The boy appeared
in the kitchen doorway looking at all of us as if we were going to challenge
his right to be there. As long as he stayed out of my way, we’d be fine. I had
no time for sullen teen boys when I had my eye on the quarterback of the
football team.

“Here’s some food.
Eat.”

“You already fed
me,” he said.

His voice was
deep, more like a man than he looked. He was skinny and a tattoo snaked up his
arm into his shirt. I wasn’t sure I liked tattoos, and it made him look a
little scary.

“Well, Dylan, I
guess you’ll be our guest for a little while,” my mom said.

As much as she
didn’t want him here, she still had manners. You know, all about appearances
and such.

“Thank you, ma’am.
I appreciate it.”

He took a spot on
a stool at our kitchen island, then dug into the food Dad had offered him.

“Dylan, this is my
daughter, Taylor,” he said.

Dylan looked at
me, then through me. “Hello. You’re in my math class.”

Okay. I hadn’t
seen him, but I might not notice someone like him. He wasn’t in the crowd I
hung out with.

***

I was hungry, but
I didn’t really want to eat with Dylan. He ate like he hadn’t seen food in
years. Did he never eat in public?