Pregnant For My Bully

Jason Davenport

I woke up angry. Reaching for my phone to see what time I was, I remembered I didn’t have one anymore.

Just great.

Dad had finally found a way to take my life away from me. Maybe now he’d have the chance to enjoy life with his fucking underage mistress.

I’m sure Ashley would love that.

A knock interrupted my thoughts, irritating me further.

“Who the fuck is that?” I barked.

One of the many servants who worked for us walked briskly inside, leaving the door half closed.

“Mr Davenport demands that you come down for dinner.” He said curtly.

“Tell him to go fuck himself,” I snarled.

He made no sign to show he heard me. Instead he only said, “Mr Davenport insists.”

I’ve never wanted so desperately to smash someone’s head against the wall-well, except Amelia-as I did at that moment.

I contemplated on punching him, maybe take out some teeth, as I clenched my fists. But I knew there would be consequences.

“Get out,” I barked.

After a moment I added gruffly, “I’ll be there in a moment.”

The servant gave a short stiff bow and walked out the door.

Going towards my closet, I grabbed the first shirt my fingers touched and pulled it on. I raked a finger through my messy hair.

Not like I give a fuck if I look presentable or not.

Trudging down the stairs and into the dining room, the scent of potatoes and fried chicken wafted in the air, making my stomach rumble.

I hadn’t realized I was hungry.

The sight of Dad and Ashley exchanging mouth fluids in a heated kiss nearly made me lose my appetite.

I coughed loudly and plopped down on the nearest chair.

Dad looked up, face flushed. “Ah, Jason, you’re here. We can start dinner now.”

Scoffing, I grabbed a drumstick and bit generously into it.

No way was I talking to him after that shit that happened. If he thought we were cool then he had another thing coming.

“Hi, Jace,” Ashley piped up. The sound of her obviously fake accent was enough to tick me off.

“For the last time, it’s Jason,” I said angrily.

“Jason, don’t start,” Dad commanded.

Biting down hard on my lips to keep myself from retorting, I concentrated on my pudding instead.

After a few moments of silence, with only the annoying sound of spoons hitting against plates, Dad spoke again.

“So. . . Jason, your mother came to speak to me on your behalf regarding the ruckus you caused this afternoon,” He said, biting into a piece of celery. Pausing, he looked at his wife. “Ashley?”

I tried not to scowl at him using the word ‘mother’.

Ashley wiped her lips with a napkin and put on one of her plastic smiles.

“Yes, Jace. I must say I’m truly disappointed in you-”

“Am I supposed to give a fuck about that?” I cut in.

I was starting to get pissed. Who the fuck did this bitch think she was acting like my mother.

She frowned, glancing at Dad. “Babe I’m trying to be supportive here aren’t I?” She pouted.

Disgust ran through me.

“Can you drop the act, Ashley?” I said, pissed.

“Jason!” Dad warned.

“But dad, can’t you see-”

“Shut your mouth, boy!” He bristled.

“Now. You will sit quietly, finish your dinner and treat your mother with the respect she well deserves.”This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

“She’s. Not. My. Mom.” I spoke through gritted teeth.

“Is that clear?”

I exhaled furiously for a few moments. Seeing Ashley smile through the corner of my eye didn’t help either.

“Yes dad.” I said bitterly.

Dad smiled and reached for Ashley’s hand across the table. “Baby, you were saying?”

I almost gagged at the pet name.

“As I was saying,” Ashley continued, smiling brightly.

“I am disappointed in you Jace. I expected better.”

If she wasn’t dad’s wife I would’ve smacked her across the face. Instead I stuffed more chicken in my mouth.

“But. . .” She continued, “I think the punishment is a little bit severe. So. . . I convinced your dad to let you have your phone back at least.”

I huffed, acting like I wasn’t interested. Getting my phone back would be a huge relief.

I looked at Dad without saying a word.

“Yes,” He confirmed.

I managed to mutter a ‘thanks’ in reply.

“Good. Now finish your dinner,” Dad said and plunged into an animated convo with Ashley.

I held back a scowl and stabbed my fork into my potato salad.

Amelia Forbes

My mind wandered as I scrolled through Instagram. It had been hours since I’d texted Jason, asking when he was free to start the project.

I was hellbent on plunging quickly into the project. I had even started the work already-not like that would be a problem, because I would be doing all the work already.

Did he really have to make everything hard for me? What’s the big deal in replying a text?

Gulping, I tried to stop thinking of the very obvious fact that I was in trouble.

I wasn’t supposed to contact him unless he contacted me. He’d probably think I was feeling spiteful all of a sudden.

But what was I supposed to do? It’s not like he was going to reach out. I mean, God forbid the untouchable Jason sends me a text.

I sighed.

With Jason Shitface Asshat Davenport you could never win.

Sighing again, I continued scrolling through my phone. I stopped as I came across a photo of Kimberly in a matching red bikini, uploaded hours ago.

My eyes widened and I almost dropped my phone.

The bikini was. . . well, revealing, to say the least.

And as much as I wanted to slut shame her, I desisted from such.

But I couldn’t deny the fact that she was gorgeous; from her tiny waist down to her bellybutton, which was adorned by a tiny piece of jewelry.

Ugh. Weren’t those painful to get?

Taking my mind away from Kimberly’s piercing I scrolled down to see the reactions to the post.

There were likes and worshipful comments from a bunch of our classmates.

I rolled my eyes.

A like from Jason.

Duh. No surprise there.

And one from. . . Adrian?

I felt something stab into my chest.

He didn’t comment, he just liked the post.

But why did it hurt so much?

Adrian was sweet and kind and easygoing-the only person at school that seemed to really care. Perfect guys like that shouldn’t like posts of girls like Kimberly.

Wait, what? Did I just call him perfect?

Where did that come from?

Groaning, I shook my head hard. As if that would take the image of Adrian’s very nice ass out of my head.

“Oh God, Mel. Take a chill pill,” I slapped my forehead.

Scrolling back up to Kimberly’s photo-I almost felt like she could see right through me, laughing at me, planning a stupid new prank to play on me-her stare pierced through me, and I wished with all my heart that she would forget about my existence and stop trying to make my life hell, every single time.

I scoffed. Like that would ever happen. It was probably the best part of her day.

Sighing, I exited the Instagram app just as a notification from Jason popped up.