Can't Stop the Feeling (Whispering Bay Romance 6)

They both turned to find her holding a gun. Ben didn’t know who was more surprised. Him or Curtis. He didn’t even know his mother kept a gun in the trailer. He found out later that it belonged to one of the previous losers who’d left it behind.

This time, Curtis didn’t laugh. “Put the gun down, you stupid bitch.”

“Not…not until you leave.” She pointed the gun straight at Curtis’s head. Her eyes cut to Ben’s. “Call 911.”

Ben picked up the kitchen phone. There was no ring tone, signaling that the phone was dead, probably because the bill hadn’t been paid, but he punched the numbers in anyway and pretended there was someone on the other end of the line. He requested help and hung up quickly before Curtis could grab the phone and discover that no one was coming.

Luckily, Curtis bought the fake 911 call, because he finally began to look nervous. “Aw, Pat, baby, we don’t need no cops. When they come you tell them there’s been a mistake.”

“Either you leave right now or I’ll…I’ll shoot.”

His face screwed up into an ugly sneer. “You dumb cow. Fine. I was outta here anyway at the end of the week.” He plucked the suitcase from Ben’s hand. “So long, kid.” Curtis made a motion to leave, but instead he turned around and backhanded him, sending him sprawling onto the living room floor.

Ben had gotten into a couple of schoolyard fights with boys his own age, and he’d always held his own, but the searing pain shooting through his skull was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

“Ben!” his mother screamed. The gun teetered dangerously in her hands.

“I’m okay,” he said, getting up as quickly as the dizziness would allow. The last thing they needed was for his mother to panic and actually shoot this guy.

Curtis grinned in satisfaction. “I’ve wanted to do that since I first met you, you arrogant little prick.” Then

he winked at his mother and sauntered out the door.

She dropped the gun and grabbed Ben into her arms. “Are you all right?”

Ben nodded against his mother’s chest, hopeful that she wouldn’t see the tears welling in his eyes. “I’m okay, Mom. Really.”

She hugged him tighter than she’d ever held him before in his life. “I’m so sorry, baby. I promise, that will never happen again.”

He sent up a silent prayer hoping that she meant it.

It turned out, she did. After that, there were no other men. A couple of weeks after Curtis left, Mom told him she was having a baby. “It’ll be all right,” she said, seeing the worried look on his face. “I have a good job at the Stop and Go. Carl says he’s finally going to promote me to assistant manager.”

Ben tried to give her a reassuring smile, mainly because he didn’t want her to see how worried he was. She worked twelve hour days, sometimes even double shifts. Who was going to watch the baby while he was in school and she was at work?

Later that night, he snuck into her room and found the worn-out address book she kept in the top drawer of her nightstand. He’d never met his grandparents. He’d never even talked to them, but they had to want to help. Right?

After school he walked to a pay phone and dialed the number. An operator’s voice cut in and told him how much money he’d need for the call to go through. When he hesitated, she suggested he call collect.

After a few rings, a woman answered the phone. “Hello.”

“Collect call from Ben Harrison,” said the operator.

“Who?” Her voice sounded pinched and cold.

“I’m your grandson,” Ben said.

There was a pause. His palms were slick with nervous sweat, making the receiver nearly slip from his grasp.

“I don’t have a grandson. So whoever you are, don’t call again.” Then she hung up.

“I’m sorry,” the operator said kindly, “but the call isn’t accepted.”

“That’s okay. I was just going to prank call the old witch anyway,” he lied. He slammed down the receiver and ran all the way home in tears, hoping that none of his friends from school would see his disgrace. That evening when his mom came home from work he had dinner waiting. Mac and cheese and hot dogs (his favorite). Then he cleaned up the kitchen and put out the garbage.

“What’s gotten into you?” Mom asked, propping her swollen feet up on the rickety coffee table in the living room. “I usually have to beg you to put out the trash.”

Ben shrugged, ashamed that what she said was true. “I figured I’m old enough to help you now.”