Trapped (Trapped #1)My life has turned out to be such a cliché. And not in a good way.
It’s not exactly Sixteen and Pregnant, but at eighteen my only advantage is a high school diploma. And if that’s not enough, the father—and I use that term loosely—couldn’t have hightailed it out of my life fast enough.
I thought I really knew him. Unfortunately, my boyfriend of three years transformed from Dr. Jekyll to Mr. Hyde once he realized his carefree, childless days would be coming to an end.
I’m over him now though. The real love of my life is chubby, has more gum than teeth, and stands a little over two feet tall. She may not have been planned, but I’ve never regretted having her. She is the center of my world.
A world that’s turned upside down when Mitch returns ready to earn the love and trust of the child he'd abandoned before birth.
Letting him into my daughter’s life is one thing but letting him back into mine isn't going to happen. Because the biggest mistake of my life has a name, and that name is Mitchell Aaron Kingsley.
And he's one mistake I don't ever intend to make again.
Beverley Kendall has lived on two continents, in three countries, two provinces, and four states. She stopped her nomadic existence and settled in the southeast with her young son. All things artistic feed her creative passion, but none more than writing.
“Damn it’s bright,” I mutter, squinting against the glare of the sun. Another scorching-hot day in North Georgia. It’s a good thing I didn’t waste time curling my hair. My hair is thick and straight and would have fallen within seconds of coming in contact with the humidity-drenched air.
Along with car keys, I remove my sunglasses from my purse as I make my way to the car. The sunglasses go on immediately.
I exchange hellos with our neighbor, Mr. Jeffries, who’s washing his van in his driveway as he does without fail every week. He and his wife and two kids have lived next door to us as long as I can remember.
The ding of my cell alerts me to an incoming message. I fish the phone from my purse and notice I have two missed calls from Erin and a message in all caps from her that says, CALL ME NOW!!!
I roll my eyes. Miss Melodrama. I thought she was on her way to the fitting. The sound of a car door opening and closing pulls my attention to the car now parked in front of my house.
Seconds later the driver is striding toward me. The next thing I know, I’m staring into green eyes the exact shade of my daughter’s. I’m staring at the guy I haven’t seen in over a year. The same guy who accused me of cheating on him, demanded a paternity test, and then took off back to New York when I was ten weeks pregnant.
It’s Mitch Aaron Kingsley, my ex, and Brianna’s worthless, no-good, biological father.
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