PROLOGUE

Dear Baby Daddy,

I thought I will never see you again. I never wanted to meet you ever again. That one night stand we had seven years ago in one of my failing times, I always prayed to never meet you again but as you stood infront of me, checking into the hotel I work on and more still, I am the one attending to you. I felt like I am on a tightrope. I was sweating profusely, I didn't want you to recognize me. You can't show up in my life now, not after I managed to raise my son. Not now that I managed to get by every hardship, not now that I am finally settled into life. I don't want you to come and ruin my future all over again.

I didn't want you to take my son away from me...that thought, I dreaded it so much but as you looked at my face and smile, my heart didn't help but thump greatly. I clutched my skirt trying not to act nervous. I was sweating. Real bad. I am already done for. But as you opened your mouth and said; "Hey, you look familiar..." I was relieved. I breathed out. "You look very familiar miss..."you repeated and I was highly elated. You just gave me a chance to lie my way out....

Dear Baby Daddy,

CHAPTER ONE

Seven years ago, my dad was my problem. He always comes home drunk, hit my mom as he wants and go to bed. Sometimes, he do come home, mess up his clothes and then lie on the cold floor of our living room till morning.

Since I was born, my daddy's lifestyle tormented me. All day and all night, I was faced with a nightmare of seeing my dad hit my mom.

It got worse each year. I even had to plead with my mom to get a divorce but she never listened. She always said no to it. She didn't want us to be separated from each other, but that's what she needed. A break from her abusive home. A break from this man. To an extent, I was so scared that she might die. And I was so afraid to be the one to raise my two younger siblings.

But that red day, on my eighteenth birthday, seven years ago, I came home from my part time job, to hear the screams and yelling of my little brother and sister, I rushed in.

As usual, my dad lay on the cold floor of the living room snoring. But my mom was nowhere to be found. I turned to the kids immediately, my heart beating really fast.

"What's wrong? Where's mom?" I asked and my brother pointed to the direction of the kitchen. I nodded and hurried into the kitchen and there my mom lay in the pool of her own blood.

My heart stopped. I clutched my chest. Maybe she's not dead yet. I shook her. She was lifeless. I came around and felt her neck, blood was oozing out from there. I began to tremble. My body began to shake.

Finally, what I always feared, what I've been so much against, have happened. I froze. All I did was to keep moving. I was so numb. No tear came out of my eyes. I was so emotionless. I wanted to feel pain. I needed it. I wanted to feel that pain so badly but it wasn't happening.

I didn't know when I walked into the streets, but I kept walking. I never wanted to come home again. I never wanted to see anyone again. I'm so done for. The only woman that meant everything to me is gone. She's lifeless. She's never gonna live again and I'm never gonna see her again.

I began to breathe heavily, I stopped walking, my eyes were fading out. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. I can't stop now. I must keep moving.

And all of a sudden, it all hit me. It's my fault. It's all my fault that my mother is dead. I killed her. I did it. If only I had taken action earlier, if only I didn't turn a blind eye to everything that happened. If only I had reported my dad once or twice to the police. If only I was a boy, If only I looked my father in the eye and warned him to stop. All this won't have happened.

Instead, I did nothing!!! I did absolutely nothing! I just let everything happen. I cower in shame and fear until now. What have I done? I can't blame anyone but myself. Yeah, I really can't because I'm the murderer.

I killed that woman, I put a knife to her neck and slit her. I must be jailed for this. Murderers like me don't deserve to live at all.

I held my chest. Tears was coming, the pain...I have began to feel it and how much it hurts. It hurts like hell!! I squatted. My legs have failed me. It have stopped moving. It can't. Even if I tried harder.

I wanted to cry but no, only the tears flowed. I couldn't even scream. Remembering the sight before me earlier made goose pimples fill my skin.

And just then, I met you. You came standing infront of me. At first, the only thing I saw, was your shoe, I thought death have come to visit me too but, as I looked up and saw a handsome face staring into mine, I knew that I've met a savior or a server of pain.

You stretched out your arm to me and I didn't hesitate to take it. Yeah, I didn't hesitate to follow you either.

"Are you okay?" you asked me and I only nodded my head, no words. Yeah, my lips couldn't even form that.

But you led me away, you led me into a motel and paid for it.

“Best you’re gonna get ’round here,” you said referring to the cheap motel and the cheap key which the attendant offered to you. But I smiled and told you that it was just fine.

Now, I opened the door, went inside, wedge a shoe between the door and frame. And my heart beat much too fast. It was almost falling off. All I wanted was to crash into that cheap bed and maybe try and get some sleep and maybe tomorrow, everything would've gone back to normal. My mom will be back to life and all this would be just nothing but a nightmare. A scary one at that.

I turned on the bedside lamp, took in the patches of worn carpet, scuffs and scratches all over the corner desk, the coarse blanket on the bed, its off-olive shade hiding age and use.

I took off my other shoe, while I listen to the air conditioner hum like a factory and I thought this place was perfect. I feel a little calmer now.

Just then, I heard you come in. Scared. I didn't turn around. But you grabbed my arms and pulled them behind me and pushed me to the bed.

Tied them with something rough, could be rope, but I’m too busy breathing. Too busy panicking. Am I sure? Really sure?

I don’t know, but I don’t give myself a choice.

I laid on my stomach, hands bound, nose full of the stale smell of the blanket, and felt you lift my skirt. Your hands gripped my thighs, pushed them apart, and through my panties, your finger began to stroke my crotch.

I heard you breathing hard. Slowly, you pulled my panties down, stuffed them in my mouth. I gagged at the cloth in the back of my throat, something instinctive telling me it shouldn’t be there, and I felt you hesitate.

But I shook my head. "No. Go on. Let’s do this now, before I start thinking about what happened earlier. Before I lose my nerve. Before I start crying!!"I screamed, while you made a little noise as if you didn't quite believe me, you flipped me over glaring into my eyes.

Why am I here? Why am I doing this? My mom is dead, murdered in cold blood by my own father and I am out here, my hands bound together by a stranger who was looming over me. But I don’t have answers. All I know is that I have to be here, with you, in this small-town, godforsaken motel room or else, I will jump off a cliff and kill myself.

And what you were about to do was what I wanted right then, I wanted it so badly. Because it will distract me from thinking or crying.

Your gray eyes alighted with pleasure as you unbuttoned my shirt and unhooked my bra. Squeezing creamy flesh between thick, strong fingers. Bared teeth on my nipple, pulling at the flesh until I moaned. Flicking the dusky red flesh with your tongue and your finger. While I panted and stared at what you did. I felt my muscles clench, thighs wet with sweat and need.

Yes, I do want this. I need this...I keep telling myself as I drowned my sorrows away with you...