Page 3 of Bullied Pregnant Mate

"It's in her will," he said, pulling it out and waving the paper at me. "As is all the other details that she wanted. I do hope you followed all her demands or that eighteen is to be given to someone else."

I bite hard on my cheek, tasting blood. I knew damn well I followed all her demands. "What else?" I was seething with rage, but I couldn't let that all go. I didn’t really care about the house here, but it still hurts.

"There is the summer house. It sits on 45 acres of land," I remembered. It was my salvation in this mess. We had gone so many times when I was young, and it always felt like home—a real home.

He pulled out a paper with a picture of the house and information printed: "But the house is only to be given if you're married, which I know you aren't.."

I waved my hands because this was new. Whenever Eddy spoke about the house, she hated it. She honestly just let it rot, so why the hell would she put up a stipulation for it? "Why do I have to be married? That wasn't part of any other demands."

Chris snorted. "You know why you're a lone wolf, Gina. You aren't going to accomplish anything, and they don't want the house and the land to go to waste and be ruined. More than it already is."

I curled my hands into fists, feeling my anger boiling over. I was so sick and tired of everyone looking down on me like I was a waste and of everyone telling me what I could and couldn't do.

"Well, that's fine because I'm getting married."

Chris raised an eyebrow, almost seeming a little surprised. "You?"

"Yes." I yanked the paper from his hands. "And if that's all you need, I'll be leaving. Enjoy the funeral."

I turned, walking away. I felt my face grow hot with rage. In one of the pews were Kathleen and her husband. Kathleen looked perfect with her slim frame and long blond hair. She smiled proudly, and I hated her—I hated everyone.

I walked past her, storming out of the altar and then out of the church. I'd been fucked over, just like every other day in my life.

I felt tears bloom, and I wanted to just fall apart and cry. But I looked at the paper and pulled it up, taking the picture in. The house looked abandoned, with a few busted windows and weeds taking over the yard. I wouldn’t be surprised if animals got inside, ruining it.

But of course, Eddy wouldn't just give it to me. She wanted me to be married, and she knew I wasn't when she died.

This was my ticket. I could finally leave this place and start over, get away from all the hatred, and be happy somewhere else.

I took a deep breath and headed to my car, trying to figure out a loophole to finally get what I deserved.

Chapter 2 - Lucas

I was exhausted, and that didn't even describe how tired I was. These night shifts were kicking my ass, considering I was much more of a morning person. I needed coffee, but the firehouse was out, and the guys were all just getting in. I was in no mood for jokes, so I left quickly and headed to the small coffee shop just a block away.

I rubbed my eyes as I stood in line for my coffee. I really shouldn't have been drinking it since I was going home to get some sleep, but before I could sleep, I had a few other things to take care of, and I needed a little boost to get me there before I crashed.

I walked up and sighed. The barista, July, looked at me sympathetically. "You look exhausted, Lucas."

"I am," I mumbled. Put an extra Expresso in mine, please, as quickly as you can."

"The usual?" she asked, grabbing a large mug and writing my name on it with a Sharpie.

I nodded and handed her my card. She swiped it and handed it back. "I'll be out with it in a moment," she said.

I nodded, taking a step to the side to wait. A mother walked up to order with a toddler attached to her hip. The toddler babbled in her arms, making my already-aching head even worse. I ground my teeth together, took a deep breath, and pinched my eyes.

Then the mother looked at me and then at her son. "I'm sorry, he's such a talker in the morning."

I simply grunted because I was too tired to talk, and she looked at me and made a face. She looked insulted beforelooking back at the barista. She placed her order, and her son opened his mouth, and vomit came out.

It oozed down the front of his shirt, and I sighed. I turned, grabbed a few napkins, and walked over to her. She looked at me, almost skittish now.

"Here," I said, handing them to her.

She made a face, and I pointed to her son. "He just threw up all over himself," I said.

Her eyes widened, and she quickly looked down. "Shit." She grabbed the napkins and quickly started to wipe her son's face.

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