Patrice's Story (A "Living With The Choices We Make" Novella) ✔️

1 - The First Time

The clearing of a throat made Keith jump. I sat up in alarm, pulling a towel over my boobs. Marcus was standing in the doorway to the living room, his eyes darker than ever. This was bad. I had never seen him this angry before, not even when he had beaten my mom.

"What are you doing with my daughter?" His chilling words turned my stomach to ice.

"I—I—" Keith's face was the color of a tomato.

Marcus closed the gap between them with a few strides, grabbing him by the throat. He was easily a head taller than Keith and my boyfriend looked like a small boy next to his impressive frame.

"Do you believe I have some little honkey come into my house and knock Patrice up?!" Spit was flying from Marcus's mouth and he drove Keith backward until his back hit the wall. "That's all you little motherfuckers think about." He shook my boyfriend, still holding firmly onto his neck.

Keith gasped for air, his lips moving, but nothing came out until Marcus eased his grip.

"I'm sorry, sir." Keith's voice had been reduced to a whimper and tears sparkled in his eyes. "I—I—."

Marcus eyebrows knotted together. "You'd better get out of here before I cut off your balls." He glanced at me. "And stay away from my daughter or I swear you'll regret it."

I had never seen anyone move as fast as Keith  when he grabbed his clothes off the lounger and sprinted out, mumbling some more apologies on the way.

Marcus turned to me next. "Go to your room. You're grounded."

"You can't order me around. You're not even my dad." My glare was challenging.

With narrow eyes, he raised his hand. I cowered, sure he was going to slap me, but only his finger poked straight at me. "You'll do what I tell you, Patrice, or there'll be serious consequences. I adopted you and legally, I'm your father and have the right to discipline you. Don't forget that."

I stomped my foot, the towel slipping through my fingers. For a moment, his gaze lingered on my breasts before I grabbed the bikini top and stormed inside. He would not get away with treating me like a child. I would tell my mom and she would lift my punishment.

~~~~

I stayed in my room for the remainder of the afternoon but ventured outside at dinner time. Marcus was in the kitchen, fixing himself a sandwich. There was no sign of my mother.

"Where's my mom?"

"She's staying at your grandparents tonight." He slowly sliced into a tomato. "She wanted us to join, but I told her what happened and she agreed that you should stay put for the rest of the month."

I gasped. "That's three weeks. You can't keep me locked up in this house that long."

"Oh sweetheart, I can do so much more if I want. Your mom won't be stupid enough to fight me on this. She is well aware of the consequences for disagreeing with me." He placed the tomato slices on his ham in two perfect straight lines, a small smile of triumph playing on his lips. "And you will never see that boy again. Understood?"

"Fat chance. I do what I want."

With a low growl, his fingers got hold of my hair and he jerked me toward him before grabbing my wrist. "I've had it up to here with your smart lip. Don't challenge me again, Patrice, or—." He didn't finish the sentence, instead his eyes stayed fixed on my lips. His thumb ran along my cheekbone. "You know, I can't even blame the little fucker. You're turning into a beautiful young woman."

I was unable to hold his gaze as I tried to wiggle from his grip. He was creeping me out. His eyes drilled into my skull; I flinched when his breath grazed my neck. We were only inches apart.