CONVICT: An Unfit Hero Novel

by Faiman, Hayley

  He grins, lifting his shoulder. “You’ll get used to it, darlin’.” He winks. “I want you to meet the guys,” he offers.

  “That’s Ford Matthews,” he says pointing to a man in a pair of dark-wash boot cut jeans, and a plaid shirt with pearl buttons. He’s wearing boots, but not a cowboy hat, instead he’s got on an old dirty ballcap. I recognize him from around town, and the diner.

  Ford winks in my direction and I feel my face get hot. He’s handsome, and I wouldn’t ever admit it, but I watched him a few times. He’s older than me, around Wyatt and Rylan’s age, but he’s single and a good-looking country boy.

  “That’s Louis Kingston, he joined our little group a couple years ago, and I’m sure you know who Beaumont is,” Wyatt chuckles, lifting his chin to the man at my side.

  Slowly, I turn my head and look up to see the Beaumont Griffin standing next to me.

  “Holy shit,” I breathe.

  Beaumont’s dark eyes meet mine and they immediately smile. “Hey darlin’ girl,” he grins. He’s sexy. Dark hair, five o’clock shadow, and famous. Not just a little famous, but top of the charts famous. He’s our little town’s claim to fame, and he’s standing right next to me.

  “Hey,” I squeak.

  The men all chuckle.

  “Hey Rylan, how’s it goin’, man, long time no see.” He extends his arm, and Rylan does the same.

  “Been worse,” Rylan says, shaking his hand. “Can’t complain these days though.”

  Beaumont looks over at me, his eyes traveling down to my stomach then lift back up. “I suppose you can’t, Rylan. Congratulations are in order.”

  “Thanks, we’re happy. Hey, I got the first picture today,” he announces.

  Then I watch in complete awe as he takes the sonogram photo out of his back pocket and passes it around. He tells them what exactly they’re looking at and I watch five over the top hot guys, examine my baby with looks of awe on their faces.

  “Buy you a Coke to celebrate?” Ford asks.

  Rylan shoves the picture back in his pocket with a grin. “Yeah, I’ll come with you,” he mutters. He releases my waist turning to me. “You want a water, sweetheart?”

  “Thanks,” I smile and nod.

  Ford and Rylan take off, back inside of the bar to get their drinks. I’m left alone with the other men, but I don’t feel uncomfortable at all, in fact, I feel the exact opposite. Wyatt slings his arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze.

  “Never seen my cousin happy, and here he is,” he says, giving me a gentle shake.

  I look up at him, my own smile matching his. “He says I make him a pussy,” I laugh.

  Wyatt’s face lights up even more. Louis and Beaumont laugh as well. My face turns hot, wondering if I’ve just said the wrong thing. “Any man would be lucky to have you, Channing. I have a feeling any of us would be proud to be labeled as a pussy if we had a good woman at our side.” He winks.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” Louis grunts.

  Beaumont shrugs, his eyes dancing. “I already did that once, not sure if I could do it again.”

  “You’re full of shit,” Louis says, pointing at Beaumont. “You’re like the rest of us. The love of a good woman would calm your ass, and turn you into the biggest pussy of all of us.”

  Beaumont doesn’t respond, instead lifts his hand and flips Louis the finger. We’re all laughing as Ford and Rylan make their way back toward the group.

  “What’s so funny?” Rylan asks, handing me a water before he slips his hand around my waist again.

  “Just talking about relationships,” Wyatt says. I let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t repeat what Rylan told me in the car. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have kept my mouth shut.

  “They make you a pussy, and you don’t even give a fuck,” Rylan announces.

  Wyatt, Louis, and Beaumont bust out laughing, harder than they were a few moments ago. And that’s how I spend my Saturday evening, in the company of this group of men. Laughing and joking around. It’s the most fun I’ve ever had out, and I’m suddenly extremely grateful that Rylan has these good men at his side. Maybe he’ll finally realize that he is a good man if he’s surrounded by these good men.

  Chapter Fifteen

  CHANNING

  I yawn, letting the warm water wash over me in the shower. I stayed out too late last night. I may be twenty, but I’m pregnant and growing human life takes way more of my energy than I ever imagined. Not that I ever imagined it until it happened to me, but in any case—I’m exhausted.

  Once I’m clean, including my smoky smelling hair, I wrap my towel around my body and attempt to move quietly as I make my way back into the bedroom to get dressed for work.

  “You’re up early,” Rylan’s husky, sleepy, voice rasps.

  I jump slightly, turning to face him. He’s lounging against the headboard, the sheet pulled up to his waist. His chest on display and his long hair tousled from sleep and my fingers last night.

  “I have to work the breakfast shift,” I breathe, unable to take my eyes off of him.

  “Shit,” he hisses. “Why didn’t you tell me, sweetheart. You have to be tired as fuck.”

  Shrugging, I walk over to the small dresser and pull a drawer open, grabbing a pair of panties and a bra. They don’t match, and I wonder if that disappoints Rylan. I never wear matching lingerie, frankly I don’t own any. I’ve never put any thought into the topic until this moment.

  “Sweetheart, a man can only take so much,” Rylan groans from the bed.

  Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at him. “You got a little time, don’t you?” he asks, a naughty smirk on his lips.

  My eyes travel down to his hips and I gasp. I can see the outline of his hard length against the thin sheet. I’ve discovered that Rylan does not wear anything to bed. I’ve also come to the realization that I enjoy that about him.

  “A little,” I exhale.

  He tugs the sheet from his hips, and I let the towel fall from my body. His eyes flare, they darken and a shiver slides up and down my spine. My nipples harden immediately, my legs tremble with each step I take closer toward the bed.

  Placing my knee in the bed, I climb up, and then slowly make my way up his legs until I’m straddling his hips. I whimper when I feel his hard length against my center. Rylan’s hands wrap around my hips, gripping my flesh and he shifts my pussy along his cock.

  “Rylan,” I hiss.

  He grunts, his fingers gripping me tighter. My head falls backward, my back arches and I let out a sigh. I want him inside of me, I ache for it, and I’m on the verge of begging for him. Until he lifts me and I feel his head against me.

  “Yes,” I cry as I sink down around him. He chuckles, but I don’t care, all I can do is breathe a sigh of relief that the emptiness is filled.

  Rylan leans forward and captures one of my nipples between his lips. I ride him, lifting my hips then grind down against his pelvis. He groans against my breast, my head still tipped backward, my wet hair sticking to my back. His fingers hold onto my hips tightly, and I know I’ll be bruised, but I don’t care. I’ll love them because he gave them to me.

  “Are you going to come for me, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice strained against my breast.

  Lifting my head, I dip my chin and look down at him. He gently bites my nipple, his eyes connected to mine. “I don’t want to,” I admit.

  He grunts against my breast, kissing over to the other one, to show it the same attention. “Why?” he asks while he kisses over to my neglected nipple.

  Lifting one of my hands, I run my fingers through his hair, gripping it tightly at the base. “If I do, then you will, and this will be over.”

  One of his brows arches, while he sucks on my nipple, his teeth biting down against the flesh of my breast. He sucks me deep then releases my breast with a pop. “You don’t want it to be over?” he asks, his voice sounding almost in awe.

  I shake my head, droplets of water flying everywhe
re around us, and on us. “It feels too good,” I state.

  I don’t care if I sound desperate, or silly. Because when it comes to Rylan, he never makes me feel silly. Not once. He’s always made me feel beautiful, desired, almost perfect. Though I know that I am far from all of those things, he treats me like I’m special and unique.

  “Sweetheart,” he grunts. “Fuck, I want to stay buried inside of you all day long—everyday.”

  Leaning forward slightly, I wrap my fingers around his shoulders for leverage and I fuck him. Keeping my gaze locked onto his, I don’t speak. I ride him hard and fast, my body climbing higher and higher, my breathing becoming labored. His fingers tighten even more against my hips and I feel his cock grow inside of me.

  He’s close, I’m close, and for a second I think we’re going to come together, that is, until my body decides to climax first. I let out a surprised sob. My hips jerk as I move to wrap my arms around his shoulders and hold myself closer to his chest. I shake against him, closing my eyes.

  Rylan moves my hips just slightly, while he lifts his own a few times and then he buries his face in my neck with a long groan and he comes inside of me. He shudders against me as I tremble against him. We’re a sweaty pile of skin and bones as we silently come down from our high.

  “I need to get ready for work,” I rasp into the otherwise quiet room.

  He chuckles, his tongue tasting my neck. “Yeah, sweetheart. Fuck,” he grunts. “I’m going to miss you today, what time do you get off?”

  Lifting my head, I look into his light brown eyes. “Three.”

  He hums. “I’ll do dinner tonight. I can’t make much, but I’ll take care of you.”

  Leaning forward, I capture his lips with mine. “Sounds amazing,” I murmur against his lips.

  “You don’t know what it is, and I’m a shit cook.”

  Smiling, I shake my head. “You could hand me a plate with canned chili on it, and I would love it.” I shrug with a smile. I wouldn’t love it, but it would mean that I didn’t have to make it, and I would love that fact.

  “You lie, but that’s sweet,” he chuckles.

  RYLAN

  I stare at the contents of the fridge trying to decide what to make Channing for dinner later tonight. Letting out a sigh, I close the door and rest my forehead against it, wondering why I volunteered to make something in the first place. I wanted to be nice, I wanted to be helpful, but I’m a fucking terrible cook. I’m goddamn awful, not just terrible but really fucking bad.

  There’s a knock on the front door that interrupts me from my torture. Pushing off of the fridge, I head toward that direction to answer. I don’t bother looking through the peephole. Opening the door, my jaw clenches at the sight in front of me.

  “Help you?” I growl at the man I want to pummel until he’s no longer breathing.

  He smirks, obviously knowing how much I want to take him down and out, but can’t. “Where is she and why the fuck are you here?”

  It’s my turn to smile, leaning against the doorjamb, I cross my arms over my chest and level him with a glare. “I live here, with my girlfriend.”

  His face blanches and then begins to turn red. I don’t show him any reaction to his little tantrum.

  “You like fucking her knowing my baby is growing inside of her?” he barks.

  I want to take him to the ground, and show him exactly what I like with my goddamn fists. I don’t. I continue to act unaffected by him, his presence, and the bullshit he spews. He is worthless. A worthless excuse for a human being. A child molester and honest to fuck, if I could figure out how to get him sent away, I would, gleefully. I’ve seen what they do to men like him on the inside.

  Leaning forward slightly, he takes a step back, obviously scared of me. Good. He should be. “I like fucking her knowing she comes every single time and I’m the only man to achieve that reaction. I like fucking her knowing she’s carrying my kid inside of her. I like fucking her knowing she’s mine. She comes home to me, she sleeps with me and she smiles at me like I’m the only man in the fucking universe.”

  “Not your kid,” he grinds out.

  I look directly into his eyes, challengingly. “No? Seems like if I married her tomorrow that baby would have my last name. Seems like I’m the one with the ultrasound image in my pocket. Seems like I’m the one who’s gonna be raising that baby. So, by all accounts, it’s mine. She’s mine. They are mine. You are nothing.”

  He takes a step forward in an attempt to be intimidating. It doesn’t work. This little pissant couldn’t intimidate a fucking mosquito. “We’ll see. My blood, my DNA. It’s mine. If I told her today I wanted her and was leaving Jennifer. She’d run to me so fast that it would make your head spin.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I search his gaze. He isn’t so sure. He appears to be, but deep inside, he isn’t. I’m sure that Channing wouldn’t leave me, not for him. At least I don’t think she would. This is his way to plant that seed of doubt in my head.

  It won’t work.

  Channing knows a life with him would be no life at all. I may not have all the money in the world, but I’ll always take care of her. I’ll always be here for her, and this fucker will be luring eighteen-year-olds to his bed like the fucking pedophile he is.

  “Why would you play her like that? She was your side piece for two years, don’t you give a fuck about her as a person? Or is all of this because you want what you can’t have? Now that you can’t have her anymore, you want her again?”

  He grinds his teeth together and that’s when I know that I’ve hit the nail on the head. It is the fact that he wants what he can’t have. He’s just one of those men. And unfortunately, Channing has been caught up in his sick and twisted games.

  “Go home to your wife, James,” I mutter.

  There’s a pickup truck’s engine sound out on the street. He looks behind him, but I keep my gaze steady on his. I don’t have to look up to know it’s Wyatt’s truck that’s parking on the street in front of the duplex. I know the sound of that machine. James’ eyes return to mine and he narrows them.

  “You will not have my family,” he announces.

  I snort. “You’re right. I don’t want that ugly cunt you married or any part of her nasty snatch. I’m sure it has goddamn teeth inside of it, which is why you don’t have much of a dick.”

  He begins to lunge at me, but I don’t even flinch. Wyatt wraps his hand in James’ shirt collar and tugs him back, careful not to throw his ass on the ground. James struggles out of his grasp and smooths his shirt down.

  “Maybe you should think twice before you come into my place of residence and attempt to put your hands on me,” I shrug.

  He smiles, it’s ugly and mean. “Why? Not like you have any guns, convict,” he snaps.

  I nod a couple of times. He’s right. I don’t have any. Can’t ever have any. I’m a convicted felon. There was no trial. I knew I was wrong and I’ve served my time. That doesn’t mean that what I did disappears. That doesn’t mean that it won’t follow me for the rest of my life, or that douchebags like James won’t look at me as if I’m less than. I came to terms with this as my life a long time ago. I’m honestly okay with it, but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t frustrating to have pieces of shit look down on me.

  “I don’t. But I have a phone and I’m not afraid to call the police and have you charged with trespassing, harassment, and stalking. Wyatt here is witness to your bothering Channing and me, more than once.”

  “Like they would believe you,” James spits.

  I press my lips together. “Maybe, maybe not, but if you want to take that chance I can call right now,” I offer, slipping my hand in my pocket and pulling out my cell.

  James’ eyes narrow and he takes a step backward. I stay stone still, leaning against the jamb as if I’m completely unbothered by this entire exchange. “Watch your back,” James says, pointing his finger toward me.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” I call back. “You ain’t shit
, James. Don’t fucking push me,” I grunt.

  He leaves, but I know, once again, that it will not be the last of him. He’ll be back and he’ll probably attempt to make our lives hell until he has something else that catches his attention. Right now it’s all about the challenge to him. I’m throwing down the gauntlet. This is all some sick and twisted game to him. To me, this is my entire life—my family.

  “He’s going to be trouble,” Wyatt mutters.

  I nod. “Yeah, he is. It’s time to start calling the sheriff anytime he appears. I’m done playing games, this is the final straw.”

  “Never thought you’d call the law instead of handling shit yourself,” Wyatt chuckles.

  Biting my bottom lip, I look over at my cousin. He isn’t making fun of me or giving me shit. Not really. He looks almost proud. Maybe he is, maybe I should be, too. He’s right. Five years ago I would have thrown down if James even looked at me sideways let alone talked to me the way he did.

  “I got a woman and a baby to think about. What I don’t need to be is thrown back in the pen for fighting some little asshole who will undoubtedly press charges against me for looking at him sideways if he could.”

  Wyatt clears his throat. “You know there’s a job up in Fredericksburg. It’s still close, but far enough that this asshole, and your parents, won’t be in your backyard. Plus, that town’s a little bigger, might be better for y’all,” he suggests.

  “Same company?” I ask.

  He nods. “Yeah, it’s just a transfer. Same pay, same benefits. Nothing changes except your location and crew.”

  I don’t want to be away from Wyatt. I like being here with him, working with him every day, but he’s right. Being away from my parents, plus James and his wife, wouldn’t be a bad thing. It’s definitely something I need to talk to Channing about. Letting out a breath, I turn to him.

  “You know that’s where it all happened, don’t you?” I ask.

  He nods. “I know. It’s the closest opening the company has right now for a ground hand,” he says.