Bad Company

Chapter 35: Claimed

For the first time in a long time, I shut my God damn mouth.

My lip began to quiver and I found myself silently sobbing again as I turned and faced the window. For the rest of the drive to wherever it was that he was taking me, I remained silent. It didn't take long for me to realize that Billy was taking me to his 'new' house. I swallowed hard as he pulled up into a driveway. The grass was dead and long, needing to be mowed desperately. The house was three stories, nothing fancy but definitely wasn't a complete shack - surprisingly. With a little T.L.C, I think this place has potential... besides the fact it's located in the shittiest, roughest part of inner city Boston and there's crackheads and thugs roaming the street.

Mmm, lovely... definitely family orientated.

Billy climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him. Wincing, I was forced to help myself out of the car and stagger behind him as he led me up the driveway and over to the front door. I whimpered with every step, wishing that he'd help me but I knew better than to waste my breath. Billy glanced over his shoulder back at me as I slowly made my way up the front steps and stood face to face with him. His eyes burned right through me and his expression stayed cold before breaking the gaze we had on one another and unlocking the door.

"Deal with that ankle." He siad boldly as I followed him inside the house.

Billy didn't say anything else and just stomped up the stairs, leaving me standing at the front door like an idiot. I sighed loudly and shut the front door before holding onto the wall and making me way through the main floor of the house to the first room I could find, which to my advantage just so happened to be the bathroom. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I flicked on the bathroom light and hopped over to the ledge of the bathtub where I sat down and stared down at my ankle, wondering what I was going to do. I mean, sure I could go and get some ice from the kitchen but frankly I feel safer and more comfortable in this secluded bathroom.

Gently, I touched my ankle and instantly regretted doing so. I carefully pushed myself up to stand and grabbed a face cloth and ran it under cool water from the sink. I let out a shuddery breath as I wiped away the tears from my face. This was my life now and I had to accept it... after all, I knew what I was getting into. I just never thought for a minute that Billy would do what he did infront of me - especially while I'm pregnant and an emotional mess - like he had tonight.

Tears started to pour out of my eyes as I mentally told myself to stop and be strong. I hunched over and tried to press the cool, damp rag against my ankle but somehow managed to tumble forward, nearly smacking my head off the toilet bowl. The tears streamed freely out of my eyes and down my raw, tear stained cheeks. I should have taken everyone's advice and stayed away... Surely I knew what Billy was really like but yet I still allowed myself to get involved. I have no one to blame but myself.

"Get up." I heard Billy say from the door way.

His cold, bitterness and lack of sympathy towards me only made me cry harder. When I didn't do as he said and instead just buried my face in my hands and sobbed uncontrollably, Billy grabbed me by the arm and pulled me up to my feet.

"Amber." He said my name firmly, trying to pull my hands away from my face.

I struggled against his touch, trying to get away from him. I began to cry out "No" repeatedly. Billy grunted and managed to pull my hands down from my face. He wrapped one arm around my back and used the other arm to scoop my legs up off the ground and carry me bridal style out of the bathroom and up the stairs. I didn't want to risk being dropped by Billy so I stopped fighting against him and just continued to cry like a helpless child as he kicked open a door and stepped in, placing me down on the bed. A bad that use to be our bed.

Sniffling, I stared up at Billy who was towering over me. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed into a glare and his chest was heaving in and out. He raised his eyebrows and cracked a smug smirk, "Welcome home."

With that, he left the room. I listened to the sound of his footsteps making their way back downstairs and out the front door, slamming it shut behind him and locking it. I groaned as I listened to the sound of his car start and peel out of the driveway and down the street. I had no way to contact anyone or anything as Charlie had smashed my phone. I felt like a prisoner here... that was trapped to this stupid bed because of this stupid fucking ankle.

Sighing, I gathered my thoughts and drifted off into a deep sleep.

It wasn't until I heard an ambulance's siren go whipping by down the street that I woke up. I groaned and sat up in bed, taking in my surroundings realizing that this wasn't a bad dream after all and that it was in fact, all real and all currently happening. My mouth was dry and my lips were cracked, I swallowed the hard lump that had formed in my throat and glanced over at the nightstand seeing that I had passed out for a few hours.

Slowly and quietly, I forced myself out of bed and reluctantly applied weight to my ankle. To my surprise it didn't hurt nearly as bad as it had earlier. It probably wasn't even sprained to begin with, I was probably just being dramatic and of course, blowing it out of proportion. It still hurt like a cunt, however. So I was careful when I made my way over to the window and peaked out the blinds, seeing that Billy's car was still gone.

"Fuck...." I sighed, running my fingers through my messy, unwashed hair.

Curiosity got the best of me, leading me out of the bedroom and slowly down the hall. The first door I opened revealed an empty room. I frowned, shut the door and slowly made my way to the next door. I bit the inside of my cheek absent-mindedly as I turned the knob and opened the door. A gasp escaped my mouth as I stared at the room, definitely not expecting to see what I was seeing.

The room was painted a light, lime green. A cherry oak wood crib was set up with safari crib bedding and bumper pads, a safari mobile hung above the crib. Beside the crib was a matching cherry oak wood change table with a couple packs of diapers and a box of wipes underneath. A rocking chair was in the far corner of the room next to a pile of 'babies-r-us' shopping bags full of baby stuff.

My heart sunk to my stomach as I looked around the room in complete awe. Could a monster like Billy really be capable of something like this? Apparently so.

I made my way over to the rocking chair and sat down, running my hands under my shirt against my bare stomach. At a time like this, all I wanted to do was pick up my phone - but couldn't since it's smashed and who knows where it is - and call Christy or Meg... hell, I even have the strange urge to call my family... which, probably would be a bad idea so fuck that.

Fuck, everything I've been doing lately is a bad idea... what's one more mistake?