THE NAUGHTY ONES: The Complete 5-Books Series

by Kristina Weaver

  She believes that Jack is my one and that I should fight for him no matter what.

  It’s been two hours in a car with her, so I’m agreeing. I just have to do this one last thing and I’ll get right on jealous-slapping Lesley and telling her to keep her ugly paws to herself.

  As for the kid thing, well I’ve already decided that this kid is mine and Jack’s no matter what did or did not happen, and he’s going to agree and marry me and we’ll have a football team’s worth of other little black-haired grey-eyed babies and that’s final!

  “Come on, Cal. This is the easy part,” Indie says softly, going for the door handle.

  “What if he’s just an asshole who dumped his unborn kid and crazy-ass girlfriend because he’s a douche?”

  She shrugs.

  “Then he is and you’ll deal with it and get the hell over it and move on. You have three papas who love you. Sisters. Gruffy goat. A man who’s so gone for you he talks to your freaking belly and begs the baby not to ruin his vagina. That’s true love, man. What else do you need?”

  The answer comes like lightning.

  “Nothing.”

  And just like that I feel free. I don’t have to push people away because my parents were assholes who were too wrapped in their own misery to love and want me.

  Whatever they had going is their shit to carry. I have my family and I don’t need another one to make me feel whole or worthwhile. Jack’s a good man and I trust him with my life.

  I trust him with my heart and my baby.

  I’m not shaking anymore as I step out of the car. No, I feel great. Greatish, at least, and it’s with that new resolve that I slam the door, narrow my eyes, and check them all out with Gruffy’s inherited torpedo eye.

  “Which one of you is Jethro Lobe?”

  Indie gives a chuckle at my tone and expression and I see her wince a little out of the corner of my eye when a short little balding man steps out from the group and comes down the two steps of the porch.

  “That’d be me, little lady. Can I help you?”

  “Yup. You’re number four on my list, and I’m aiming to fix it before I get on with the next job.”

  That has the old lady shrieking and trembling and I listen as she starts yelling at him.

  “You swore to me you were done with that stuff, Jethro. Is this a mob hit? Oh God, not in front of my grandbabies.”

  Mob hit? Jesus.

  “Lady, do I look like I’m from the freaking mob?”

  Her eyes go to India and I feel a laugh bubble up when I look at her and see what they’re seeing. She’s wearing ripped black designer jeans, a black tank under a black jacket, and a little black fedora. One of her tattoos is peeking out the collar and her expression is dead mean.

  Okey dokey. I get it.

  “Well…” she starts with the hand wringing and I see Indie’s lip curl.

  “We’re not freaking mobsters or a hit squad, lady. Although…” I look at Indie and grin.

  “We could so rock that shit, sister,” she finishes, grinning widely.

  “Hell yeah we could. But we’re not,” I rush to say when old Jethro seems on the verge of tears.

  That story…do not wanna know.

  “Who are you then?” one of the men barks out and I look at him and thank sweet Jesus that I got my looks from Gruffy and Gramps.

  No offense, but Jethro…the force is not strong in that one.

  “My name is Callie Landry. I’m the daughter of Desiree Landry. My grandmother is Elsa Landry.”

  “Oh shit.”

  Oh Jethro, if only you knew, man.

  The lady pales a bit and comes forward, her eyes round and teary.

  “Desi’s kid?”

  “Well, the jury’s still out on that one, but as far as my birth certificate is concerned that would be a yes, ma’am. So Jeth, old buddy…is this a ‘hi Dad’ moment or can I go home with my dreams of Hugh Hefner intact?”

  Humour is my thing. I need it. Especially when the man seems to deflate and looks at me like I just threw his prize toupee out the window on a rainy day.

  “I think you’d better come in.”

  ***

  Awkward.

  “Let’s get the fuck outta here. These people are creepy. They’d take eating me to a place that is not hot,” Indie hisses at me as I sit in awkward silence with eight pairs of eyes trained on me.

  Sooo, this is the one. Number four is the winner.

  Not that I’m judging by looks or economic standing or anything that shallow. No, what’s got me ready to abort this mission and go give my three dads a big hug and promise never to want anything more than them again is the general attitude I’m feeling with what these people have going.

  “Look. I’m not here for money or anything that you people may or may not have. I give two shits about any of that, and trust me, I am not seeking a happy family moment, either. All I wanted to know is if Jethro here is my father and why he found it so impossible to be a dad.”

  Gobble lips narrows her eyes at me and I kinda thank God I didn’t get her as a stepmom. Jill and Deidre, I love you guys!

  “It was another time, young lady. Jethro and I were having some problems and that mother of yours took advantage of the fact. She was a—”

  “Okay. That’s enough, lady. My mom may have been a lot of things, but she was not one of those. If she and your precious little hobbit made the beast with two backs, that’s on him, too. Unfortunately for him, it resulted in the creation of another human being.”

  “I, she said she would take care of it.”

  Now you know…

  Mom was no great shakes and I will never paint her in colors she can’t wear for shit. But she was my mom and she did take care of me for five years of my life.

  And free spirit or not, she was a pro-life girl all the way. Ask me, I went to my fair share of protests while Mom was high off her ass and yelling nasty shit to the women going into those clinics.

  “She did take care of me. She gave birth to me and loved me in her own way. She was my mom and I love her, so if the two of you are going to sit here and insult her, I may just unleash Lizzy Borden here on your asses.”

  Gobbler swallows and cringes when Indie smiles and cracks her knuckles.

  “What do you want?” Jethro finally asks tiredly, his small shoulders falling as if the weight is too much for his weak ass.

  “Nothing. I needed to see for myself what I wasn’t missing all these years because I’m about to be a mother myself. Guess Gruffy was right. You can’t cry about something you never had.”

  The others, the actual kids and their very uncomfortable wives, just stare at me silently. I think they may be as shocked as I am and can’t quite find a thing to say in the moment.

  That’s okay. I already have my sisters, I don’t need anything more.

  “Mr. Lobe, I want you to know that despite everything, despite you being a shitty human being and no type of father, I had and continue to have a great life because I have a fantastic family. I’m a good, successful woman with a lot to look forward to in the future. And you will never be a part of that because as far as I can see, all you know how to do with children is make them, not raise them. Thank you both for your time. It was not a pleasure meeting you, but it sure will be a shitty story to tell the grandkids.”

  “Good show, Callie cat. Come on, babe, let’s blow this trailer and get going. We can be home in the next two hours and have you riding the love train in under three.”

  I rise with a smile just thinking about Jack and the anger he’ll feel when I tell him about this lot and their stupidity. I would so be such an asset to these people if they’d been anything other than buttholes, but I guess that’s their loss and my close call.

  “Yeah let’s go.”

  “God, Cal, that was a fucking freak show if ever I saw one in my miserable life. Suddenly I’m feeling a lot of love towards Mummy and Daddy dearest.”

  “Not even possible.”

  Indi
a’s parents are transplants from the UK who have been in the States so long, I don’t think they remember a time when the hot dog and bald eagle weren’t their first loves.

  They also happen to be total assholes. India’s mom doesn’t understand the meaning of work and her dad’s screwed every assistant he’s ever had. At last count, I think Indie has like three siblings she’s never met and one nephew.

  Talk about messed up.

  “Okay then. You ready to go home and take your pot of gold at the end of this rainbow?”

  “Totally. Pit stop first, though. I need to pee and think about the next phase of this plan.”

  She gets it. I see her nod and start flicking through the travel music till she hits on my current favorite song.

  JT starts bopping through the speakers and sooner than I can imagine we’re both dancing along to “Can’t Stop the Feeling” while the miles pass us by.

  It’s her way of getting me up and ready to get in the ring, and as I look at her and catch her eye, we both smile at each other and nod resolutely.

  Gosh, I am so glad I got into a tangle with this girl so many moons ago and ended up in detention with her. We may have beat the tar out of each other at our first meeting, and we may still have the urge to go for round two, but she’s one of the best things that ever happened to me.

  “I hate you so much, Callie.”

  “Hate you more, India. Hate you so much more.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Trouble With Love Is…

  Callie

  I haven’t seen Jack yet and that is not for lack of trying. I drove all the way back to the city, sweaty, my bladder screaming, and my heart so full of hope it was just disgusting.

  The problem with my rose-colored glasses and newfound hope—it never once stopped to consider that the way I treated Jack so callously would play a major role in the way things turn out.

  According to Gruffy, the man came around to see me and got so mad at me for daring to treat him this way that he lost his shit and stormed off. I got the message that he was pissed at me when my twenty-fifth call hit voice mail again.

  He’s not ready to talk to me yet.

  Well too damn bad. I need to talk to him and clear this all up. So I’m now standing on his doorstep at nine at night, leaning on his doorbell for all I am worth. Praying to sweet little baby Jesus that the fool opens the door before I disgrace myself out here.

  Plus it’s cold out and I’m hungry. I didn’t stop to eat but I couldn’t resist the mega slushy Indie handed to me when she went into the convenience store while I filled the van with gas.

  Those things are so good and I drank it all. I would have peed in the cup halfway home if not for the fact that I was driving and Indie would probably have taken footage of it and put it up on the net.

  Animal.

  “Jack! I’m not leaving anytime soon, you dick, so you may as well open the door for me and let me in!”

  No answer.

  I keep leaning in and hitting the bell till I just know I can’t take it anymore and clench my bladder for the first time. Dammit.

  Turning with a forlorn sigh I make my way down his steps and start shuffling my way back down the sidewalk, eyeing a trash can the way a dog must when it needs to go.

  Dammit. I need to pee and the little kicks I’ve been feeling all day are not helping the situation.

  No. You know what? I won’t leave. I’ll go back and sit on those steps all night, even if I have to christen them and sit in a puddle of pee. I want Jack. I need Jack, and I can’t just give up on the man because he may be a little peeved right now.

  What did Gramps always say? You gotta do what you gotta do, baby girl, and say fuck it when the world tries to get you down.

  I shuffle back and sit my butt down on the cold stones, pulling my coat closer and thanking God that Indie made me put on my ugly jeans and sweater for warmth.

  I’m about forty or so minutes into praying I don’t get haemorrhoids when a car pulls up and Jack tumbles out. Followed by a really hot brunette.

  Ah hell.

  You know that moxy that Gruffy keeps dressing up? That stuff that we call moxy even when we know it’s a shit name for pride and self-respect? That just sorta crumbles and gives a smoky poof! of sadness as they come my way laughing and hanging all over each other in the most affectionate way.

  Looks like this is going to be the day of awkwardness and loss, after all.

  They’re still laughing at whatever the brunette is saying and don’t notice me standing there like a lump till they’re practically on top of me. When they do finally notice me Jack comes to a hard stop and narrows his eyes at me.

  “Callie.”

  “Hey, Jack, uh, sorry to just land on your doorstep, but I’ve been calling you all day and you weren’t answering.”

  “Yeah. Wonder what that must feel like,” he grates, making my eyes flutter as a blush hits my cheeks.

  God, I hate it when other people are right. It means I’m wrong and that just sucks. It doesn’t feel very good.

  “Um, I-I need to talk you. It’s really important,” I manage to say just as clingy arms gets closer and seems to want to crawl up Jack’s tailpipe.

  She’s looking between the two of us with more curiosity than I can handle right now, and just the fact that she’s here is enough to make all the courage I’ve collected over the years vanish and disappear beneath a cloud of hurt and the need to cut and run.

  “Callie, I can’t right now.”

  Direct hit.

  “Um, look, I just can’t go another day without telling you this, so I’m just going to say it and…and get it out there, okay? We made a mistake. No, I made a mistake. I think I wanted it to be you so bad that I ignored the signs that I was wrong and…it’s not you, Jack. You’re off the hook,” I manage to say as I cover my tummy protectively and take a step back.

  This hurts a lot because I know that it’s true. I wanted it to be him and he’s probably just feeling instant relief right now.

  His eyes are dazed and I see his confusion before they trail down to my stomach. I see the exact moment my words become understood and then he’s looking back at me, his eyes narrowed.

  “No. Don’t. Don’t say anything. I just, I found out that night at the club and I feel so bad, Jack. I…this isn’t…I’m so sorry that you thought, but it wasn’t you and…”

  Don’t cry, Cal.

  Oh but it does hurt when all he seems to do is stare at me blankly.

  “”Er, I gotta go, but…but thanks, Jack. Knowing you was really one of the best times of my life.”

  Lame. But I can’t say anything more meaningful because my throat’s closing, and I’m just that close to tears at the moment.

  “Good-bye, Jack.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Thunderstruck

  Jack

  I’m still reeling the next morning when my cousin Priscilla drags her hungover butt downstairs and falls into a seat at the table with a moan as her head hits the surface with a thunk.

  “Please tell me I’m dying, because if I actually live through this I will never be the same. I hate today. Why didn’t you stop me?”

  I don’t really have it in me to make idle conversation or even entertain the thought of caring right now, but I haven’t seen Pris in months and taking my misery out on her is not fair.

  I’ll wait till she leaves tomorrow to drown in a puddle of gloom and unmanly tears.

  “You weren’t exactly open to advice last night when I tried to cut you off, cuz. Your exact words were something along the lines of, ‘Screw off, yank. I know what I’m doing.’”

  Her groan and attempts at a chuckle make my lips twitch a little and I find myself pushing coffee and a bagel at her even though my body feels like it’s gone AWOL.

  I still can’t believe what Callie told me last night. I feel like my heart has been ripped out and stomped on. It took a few minutes of utter shock and disbelief, but I finally snapped out of
it just as she was getting into a passing cab and made a break for her only to be stopped when Pris chose that moment to pass out.

  Talk about bad timing.

  “What’s got you so glum, chum? I’m the one with the hangover from hell.”

  I don’t even have the energy to shrug at this point because there’s no blood to support movement. Yeah, I really have been sitting here in a daze all night after dragging Pris to bed and ensuring she was okay.

  My ass is numb right now and I’m frozen in place. The only reason I moved to make coffee and toast bagels was the fact that I haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday and I was starting to feel woozy.

  “Jack? Jackie boy? What the hell is going on with you? You look like someone just handed you a killing blow, mate.”

  Her British accent is thick with fatigue, and I find myself not even a little enchanted by the sound as I usually am. Not today. Not when my world just ended.

  “Someone did.”

  “Is this about that cute bird on your steps last night? I distinctly recall that sexy lady and her tummy. Wait! Was that Callie?”

  My nod makes her groan.

  “Oh God. Please tell me she didn’t see me and think…”

  Odds aren’t great, and I want to kick my own ass for not telling her right off the bat that Pris is my cousin. I was just so shocked to see her waiting for me like I’ve dreamed about for days, and then I got pissed because how dare she just show up this way when I wanted to be the one to go after her and lay down the law and…

  And I fucked it all up last night by not responding to a thing after the shock of her confession hit me. Admittedly I was floored. Then pissed when I thought for a split second that I’d been duped.

  Then just gutted when I realized that Callie would never lie to me about something so important. After that, I hurt for my baby because she must be just as devastated about it as I am.

  I sat here all night just thinking, and all I could come up with is that I don’t give a shit. That kid and that woman are mine. Whether I’m the man from the hotel or not. Whether it was my sperm that created him or not.

  They’re mine and I will not give them up.

  Determination grabs hold of me and I feel a return of life to my limbs just as I hear my door slam hard enough to shake the foundations before Woody comes striding in, pissed off as fuck.