Shift happens family tie.., p.1
Shift Happens (Family Ties Series Book 2), page 1
Contents
Untitled
Shit Happens
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Note from the author
About the Author
Also by Mary B. Moore
Copyright © 2021 Mary B Moore
All rights reserved
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Cover Photographer: Reginald Deanching, RplusM Photo
Cover design: Jay Aheer, Simply Defined Art
Editor: BCO
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This book is intended for mature adults only and contains consensual sexual content and language that may offend some. Suggested reading audience is 18 years or older. I consider this book as Adult Romance.
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Shit Happens
Sasha
Both of my dads were always attentive and loving, but they were also smothering. Leaving for college caused them more anxiety than it caused me. I was excited about having freedom and laying the foundations for my future and my career.
Yeah, I have two of them, so you can imagine the bullying I had as a kid. But I wouldn’t change them for the world, it’s just that I needed to find my own place in it.
How’s this for irony: I tasted freedom, I touched it with my fingertips, then I got a sinus infection, hit by the car he was driving, and now he’s insisting on helping me recuperate in exchange for not telling my dads about it.
He didn’t need to do it, but when I said no, he proved he’d become an adult version of the irritating kid I remembered.
Jackson
I did my parents and their friends a favor and checked in on Sasha to make sure she was doing okay at college. I hadn’t forgotten the little girl who used to come over with her dads, I just hadn’t thought about her. It’s a totally different thing.
I wasn’t a jock, I was here for my education, and I had zero-tolerance for distractions. I got enough of those from my family, so this time at college was my own. So it was only meant to be that one visit, but now I can’t stop thinking about her.
Especially after I hit her with my car and now I’m looking after her. Except, that started as guilt, and now it’s something completely different.
Chapter One
Jackson
Spinning my phone around on the kitchen counter, I thought about what Mom had just asked me to do.
Their best friend’s daughter had transferred to where I was at Northern Arizona University after going through some things at her first one back home in Florida, and they wanted me to check in on her and make sure she was okay.
Checking the time, I figured why the hell not. From what I could remember of Sasha Adams-DeWitt, she’d been a cute book nerd who’d never paid much attention to what was going on around her. That was probably why they’d hazed her as severely as they had at her previous college because she was an easy target.
I hated bullies and the different tactics they used to break someone mentally and emotionally. If checking on her and letting her know I was here if anything happened helped, I could do that.
Making my way toward the front door, I texted Mom back.
Me: Okay, just on my way now. Text me her address.
It was like she was primed and waiting for me with it because my phone binged before I’d even opened the door, making my eyes narrow.
Mom: Here it is. Thank you so much, my handsome boy. Adam and Ryan are really worried about her after what happened, so it’ll make them feel so much better having someone to keep an eye on her.
Wait, hold on a second.
Me: Uh, you didn’t say I was going to be a full-time babysitter. I thought I was just saying yo, and then keep saying it when I saw her?!
I’d just sat down in my truck when she replied, making me sigh. I knew what was coming, I just knew it.
Mom: Jackson Townsend-Rossi, her dads are like uncles to you. She’s been to hell and back recently and needs a friend and some security.
Boom! Fucking awesome.
I was now a babysitter for a teenage girl who’d probably be afraid of everything. If something went to shit, I’d be duty-bound to intervene and sort it out.
Knowing resistance was futile with Mom, I tossed my phone into the cupholder and drove toward the address I had, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.
I don’t think I’d spoken to Sasha since I was about fourteen. She’d gone to a different school than us, and once I hit my teens, I’d grown like a weed and joined the basketball team. When I wasn’t doing that, most weekends, I was either out playing with my friends, attending games, or just doing shit teenagers with brothers did. We were always active and out having fun going boating, diving, and fishing to relax. A little girl never factored into that, especially once puberty hit.
If I remembered correctly, she’d also stopped coming with her dads to the barbecues and get-togethers my parents threw, so I really didn’t know how long it’d been since I’d seen her.
And now I was headed to insert myself into her life because Mom thought it’d help her.
Apparently, when she’d joined her previous college, she’d been invited to join what was labeled a ‘superior sorority.’ The fact it was the sorority themselves who called it that was neither here nor there—although you’d have thought it would have made alarm bells start ringing for her—because these girls were the ‘elite.’ The members had the highest grades, and they were basically what every new student wanted to be, but it was by invite only.
Sasha’s GPA had drawn them in, but they’d had different tasks and challenges for smart nerdy girls. Ones that’d turned out to be brutal.
In short, Sasha had been waterboarded, she’d had rats released into her bedroom, they’d put laxatives in her bottles of water in her dorm, they’d sent love letters from her to one of her professors… and that was all Mom was willing to tell me. It was fucked up.
Their final act had been too much on the girl who was, by that point, fragile. They’d filled her car with pig’s blood and put the head on the back seat. Her dads had gone in and spoken to the dean, lost their shit when he hadn’t taken it seriously, and then she’d transferred as far away from there as possible.
The whole thing pissed me off. One of the sororities here had almost killed a guy, so I’d had it with them acting so irresponsibly. The point of joining one was to have a brotherhood or a sisterhood, a strong family away from your own. They were people you’d have that link with for the rest of your life, with fond memories that you told your kids and grandkids. Why the hell did people always have to go too far?
Pulling up in front of the small apartment block, I looked around the area to make sure it looked safe. Her dads would’ve made doubly sure before they agreed to her renting it, but still.
All of the cars looked nice and well cared for, the small yards and grassy areas were nice, and most people seemed to have potted plants on their balconies—perfect for a young girl.
Hopping out, I made my way over to the front door, smiling when a pretty young lady stopped it from closing behind her and let me in.
Hmm, maybe that wasn’t such a good thing. I’d have to ask her dads to notify the building manager to put a sign up about not letting strangers in. It was for all of their safeties.
I was so focused on my new sur roundings and the issue I’d just encountered that I didn’t realize the girl had stopped until I saw the apartment number I was looking for. To my surprise, she was standing in front of it, rooting in her purse for her keys.
Not thinking, I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder. “Sa—”
Faster than I’d ever seen anyone move, she spun around, dropped down, and punched me full force in my crotch.
More precisely, in the balls.
The consequences were instant—I died a little.
My soul left out of my dick and went straight to hell to scream with all of the other tortured souls. It felt like lava filled with shards of glass and knives exploded from the area and traveled up through my body, all amassing in my throat.
The whole thing made my legs give out, and I dropped down to my knees in front of her, cupping my nuts and trying to gasp in oxygen.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she gasped, fanning her hands in my face. “I didn’t realize you were a neighbor. I thought you were a freak trying to attack me.”
“I’m not—” I croaked, gulping in air. “Not neighbor.”
The fanning—whatever good she thought it was doing—stopped, and she leaned away from me slightly. “Who are you then?”
“Jack—” I wheezed, dropping forward to lean against the wall and trying to focus on just surviving, “—son.”
Tilting her head to the side, she looked around us. “Jack’s son? I haven’t met him yet. What apartment’s he in? I’ll run and get him for you.”
Swallowing harshly, I shook my head and closed my eyes against the bright flashes of light. Probably fireworks from my nuts.
“No, Jackson,” I whispered, hoping the fact I could form words now meant I was going to get through this. “Townsend-Rossi.”
Her horrified gasp had me nodding slowly.
Yeah, tell me about it.
“I’m so sorry. I have fists of steel, and sometimes I get carried away. I’ve just been at a self-defense class, and my head was still in the zone. I was feeling the rage as I imagined an attacker—”
I opened one eye so I could look at her as she explained, figuring I’d enjoy this all at some point later on. Much later on.
“So when you touched my shoulder, I lashed out and did the fists of fury nut crunch.”
Who taught someone a fists of fury nut crunch? Jesus Christ, was her self-defense instructor a sadist?
Ironically, she answered that next.
“My instructor taught us that today, and it seemed immoral at the time, but she insisted we learn it. Apparently, her ex-husband was the reason she invented it in four forms. Between you and me,” she whispered, looking around us, “it didn’t sound like he’d earned it, but what do I know?”
Either the blow to the nuts had done something to my brain, or this really was as surreal as it felt.
Biting on her lower lip, she started fidgeting. “You staring at me with one eye and your hands on your junk is a bit creepy.”
That startled a laugh out of me, which was a huge mistake. Massive fucking mistake. It felt like my balls and gut exploded all over again, and I doubled over with a weird choking gasp noise.
My parents owed me.
And at this stage, that debt probably included a new pair of testicles.
Then, as I was panting, on all fours on the ground, she clicked her fingers. It was probably the same noise my poor balls had made when her fist connected with them. Not that I was bitter.
“Oh my God, I know you. You’re Ronnie and Wyatt’s son.”
Unable to lift my head, I kept it hanging but nodded weakly. In all honesty, the only reason I expended the effort was because I was hoping if I did that, she wouldn’t hit me in the nuts again when I finally got the strength to stand back up.
“Which one are you?”
Blinking at the tiled floor, I felt a new emotion join the pain—offense. How dare she not remember me. I was memorable, damn it.
“One of the twins,” I choked out. “The good looking one.”
People always made this mistake. Marcus and I were identical, but there was always a better-looking twin, regardless, and that was me.
Then, like her not remembering me wasn’t offensive enough, she made a noise like she got who I meant.
“How are the horses? I loved that big black stallion you had the last time we were out visiting. I know we didn’t get to see you, but thank you for letting us swing by and spend the day there. Wait, who’s looking after them while you’re here?”
Usually, when a woman rambled and asked questions with no break between sentences, it irritated the shit out of me. The cute, ditsy chick image wasn’t as cute as they thought it was. It was the total opposite, in fact. But for some reason, teamed with her crazy curly hair and the quick glimpse of her face I’d managed before she cruelly burst my balls, I didn’t feel the normal irritation over it.
No, I was feeling it for a whole other reason.
“Marcus is looking after the stallion and the other horses because they’re his horses,” I ground out, not raising my head and aiming my glare at her toes instead.
Oh, fucking hell, even those were adorable in her Birkenstocks—that looked like they were a child’s size—and her black polished toenails with pink glitter on them.
Confusion swamped her voice when she replied. “But, you said they were yours? You should have just been honest, they’re only horses.”
This time, I raised my head to glare at her. Sure, it was weak, but it was all I could manage. “I’ve never lied to you because it was Marcus’s place you went to and saw his horses.”
Tilting her head to the side, she frowned down at me. “But you said they were your horses?”
“I most certainly never said that.”
Her eyes moved away from me as she no doubt ran our conversation through in her mind. “You said you were the good looking twin.”
“I am,” I clipped. “And you said you liked my horses, not me.”
“Oh,” she drawled, wincing. “I get it. You’re the”—she lifted her hands and did air quotes—“good looking twin.”
Not only were my balls twitching deep inside my body where they were now hiding, but my eye had started doing it, too. “I am.”
“Yes, you are,” she winked exaggeratedly down at me. “How can I help you, ‘good looking’ twin?”
Swear to God, if she didn’t stop doing those fucking air quotes, I’d lose my shit. Well, when I could breathe without wanting to cry.
“Mom asked me to check on you,” I said through my deep breathing. “Your dads are worried.”
Shrugging a shoulder, she jingled her keys in the air above my head, then turned and pushed one into the keyhole on her door.
“I’m doing good, as you can see. My dads worry a lot, though, so I’m glad they’ve got you to put their minds at ease.”
I would’ve replied, except the second her door opened, I came face to face with something that made what should have been an embarrassing noise come out of me, but I was too focused on making sure I was seeing it right to feel ashamed by it.
What in the all hell’s fuck was this?
“Sorry, that’s my cat, Milkshake.”
Blinking rapidly in case my vision had been impacted by my balls, I stared at “Milkshake.”
“Did you call him that ‘cause of his coloring?”
The cat looked at me, twitched its tail, then walked up until it was only about three inches away from my face, giving me a closer view of its face. Unfortunately.
“No, it’s ‘cause he’s so good looking, his milkshake brings all the girls to the yard,” she replied seriously.
The laugh that burst out of me offended the cat if his flattened ears were anything to go by, but it also made me groan in pain. Did that stop me, though? The hell it did.
“His eyes are crossed. It’s like they’re arguing with the center of his head. Trust me, no girls are coming to his yard.”
