Page 27 of Frank


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Chapter Nine

Claudia

I knew I should have listened to my inner self and just kept walking.

Too bad I was never good at following directions.

Instead, I went in search of the noise.

In any other place, I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing such a thing, but this wasn’t the big city. I lived in Rosewood, Virginia, where nothing, and I mean nothing, ever happened.

Well, unless you snuck out of a bed at the ass crack of dawn, riddled with shame and regret as you left the most delicious piece of eye candy this side of the Mason-Dixon line, handcuffed to the bed.

Yeah, not one of my better moments.

Best not mention that again because that’s opening a whole new can of problems, I wasn’t ready to tackle because right then, my cup was full as I tried making sense of what I was currently seeing.

This had to be a joke, right?

I mean, I read and saw this shit all the time in newspapers or on TV. But those things happened in places like L.A. or New York, not fucking Rosewood, Virginia.

It moved.

Oh, thank God.

It was one thing to find such a thing, but it was a whole other story if it was bad. Bending over, I moved the dirty white blanket and gasped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The small baby looked up at me and grinned like I was here to save it.

“Yeah, kid, I am not your happily ever after. Sorry.”

Standing there, dumbstruck, I rubbed my temple as a growing headache took root and watched the small baby put its dirty hand in its mouth, sucking away. “Shit, kid, don’t do that. It’s not sanitary.”

Looking around, I didn’t know what to do.

Okay. Technically, I knew what to do, but that would mean walking back into the fucking shithole and seeing my ex-fucktard of a boss again. I may be still drunk, but I wasn’t that damn drunk. I was, however, up to date on the procedures of what to do when someone finds a baby in the alley. Turning to see the fire station behind me, I knew I could take the baby over there but when I saw the hot men goofing off, mooning, and fucking around, I thought better.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust those idiots with a potato gun either, kid. Hot as hell they might be, they’re dumber than a box of rocks, the lot of them. Guess that means you get me.”

Look, I know just because I am a female that most people believe a girl should know what to do, but in my defense, I was still three sheets in the wind, tipsy as fuck, and on the verge of a total meltdown. Besides, my expertise with kids was only helping the mothers give birth to the little critters before quickly handing them over.

What the fuck did I know about taking care of anyone? I mean, I knew how to fix them, patch them up, and send them on their way, but to physically care for a human being day in and day out?

Not one damn thing.

I liked kids.

They were great.

Funny as hell, too, but there was a reason I didn’t have one.

Because I didn’t want one!

Okay. That’s not entirely true.

Lately, I’d been thinking, mulling over the idea because my biological clock was like a fucking bitch on steroids!

Still standing there, trying to make heads or tails of what I was going to do, the kid chose me, reminding me why I never wanted kids in the first place.

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