BAD BOY RYDER

"We're heading out now," my mother said while I picked up my heavy suitcase and duffel bag, then went down the small little stairs and straight past my stepfather and older stepbrothers waiting on me. My mother shot me a confused look like she was waiting for me to speak to them, but I wasn't going to do it. Least of all him. It had been eleven years since I'd last seen my birth father and, if I'm being honest with you, I was only five when he left, so I honestly had no clue what he looked like. My mother decided my birth father wasn't allowed to see me, but that still didn't stop him for nearly two years. During that time, my mother and I kept moving between odd, unfamiliar places just so we could stay away from him. But back then, I was young and tucked inside my own little fairytale world where my parents' divorce wasn't something I had to dwell on. By the time I turned fourteen, my mother had remarried a man I despised since the minute I met him, for trying to act like my dad, and because he treated me like absolute trash whenever my mother wasn't there. I'd finally had enough and begged her to let me go live with my father, who accepted before she could even finish the sentence. That was only the short version of it. "We'll miss you," my stepbrothers said at the same time, sadness thick in their voices as they sighed quietly at the thought of me leaving. I smiled at both brothers. They had stood up for me when I needed them most, always defending me whenever I fell. "I'll miss both of you too, but you know I have to leave." They both hugged me one after the other before I waved goodbye. I glared at my stepfather, but he just shrugged and flipped me off. I glanced back to see if my mother caught him flipping me off, but she'd already gotten in the car. Typical. I cleared my throat and tried to shake it off, and grabbed my bags and walked away from everything I'd known. The four-hour ride felt miserable, if I'm honest. I felt awful about leaving my mother alone with my stepfather, but I needed out of there, knowing my stepbrothers would protect my mom the same way they'd protected me. After the drawn-out, awkward silence, my mom stared at the place like she had never laid eyes on it before. My eyes widened at the massive house that looked ridiculously expensive when my mother pulled into the wide driveway, around a small fountain, and toward the double doors. In front of the door stood three figures with wide smiles and curious eyes aimed at the SUV. I messed with my seatbelt, uneasiness sinking into the pit of my stomach while my mother climbed out first, said her greetings, then headed for the trunk to unload it. The man, dark brown hair and electric blue eyes and all, looked hesitant as he walked over and slowly opened the passenger door, revealing me.