Page 286 of One More Time


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“There's really no easy way to put it,” he said. “But, basically, my father's last request was for me to give him a grandchild. My inheritance, and my stake in the company, rests on my ability to do that.”

I raised my eyebrows, not sure I liked where this was going. I had an idea what he was going to ask me, and it was starting to freak me out a bit.

Malcolm rushed through the next part. “And while I'm not looking for a relationship or anything,” he said. “I am looking for someone to – well – have my child. As in a surrogate.”

“And you want me to be your surrogate?”

I wanted to laugh, but a white-hot bolt of anger rushed through me. Malcolm nodded, and before I could stop myself, I reached back and slapped him across the face. Hard.

“This entire night, you've been nice to me because you want to buy me?” I asked, almost screaming at him. “You've been nice to me because you thought you could buy my body like – like I'm some whore.”

“No, it's not like that at all,” he stammered. “You've got it all wrong, Casey.”

I opened the car door and stepped out into the street, slamming it behind me hard enough to rattle the glass in the window. Sirens sounded in the distance, and someone's stereo was so loud, the bass thumping so hard, it practically shook the ground beneath my feet.

I hurried toward my apartment building, but Malcolm was on my tail. He grabbed my arm, spinning me around to face him in the middle of the street. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him and I had to fight back the urge to smack him again. “Damn you, Malcolm. I actually thought better of you,” I said. “I thought you saw me as more than just a piece of meat or some poor downtrodden girl you thought you could use. Maybe it's not the same thing as wanting to fuck me, but you still wanted to use me.”

“Casey, just listen to me,” he said, his voice earnest. “I think you're an amazing woman. Witty, smart, strong, and you don't take shit from anyone. Those are all traits I admire. And as I've gotten to know you tonight, I realized that I want to help you.”

“You want to use me –”

“I don't want to use you,” he said. “I just think this is one of those situations we can both benefit from. I'd pay you whatever you asked for. I'd give you anything, I'd make sure you lived a comfortable life. I'd take care of you.”

I pulled my arm free from his grasp. “I don't need anyone to take care of me, Malcolm,” I snapped. “I thought I made that abundantly clear tonight.”

“Fine. Just thought you could use the money,” he said.

His eyes were deep, unending pools of blue fire that burned straight through me. Seeing him looking at me, knowing that he'd put on this charade tonight in the hopes that I'd bear his kid for him, just so he could claim his damn trust fund or whatever – it did more than piss me off. It hurt me. It cut me straight to the bone.

The fact that it hurt me so bad was surprising. But – it did. This whole evening, I'd thought we had a connection. I thought that I'd misjudged him and that he was a good guy. I'd thought there was more to Malcolm than met the eye. I thought he liked me for who I was, not for what I could do for him.

Clearly, I was wrong on all counts.

“There's more to life than money,” I spat. “Not that I'd expect you to understand that.”

I turned and walked away, pissed off, but unsure of what really bothered me more about all of it. Sure, the fact that he was using me – or more specifically, wanting to use my womb for his own benefit – was enough.

But, there was more to it than that. It bothered me in a lot of ways on a lot of different levels. Maybe I'd actually started to like the guy. My heart ached in my chest as I opened the gate to our small apartment complex, slamming it behind me.

I'd actually thought he was different. I’d thought that maybe he'd been interested in me for something more than my body. Boy, had I read that one wrong.

As I unlocked the front door to our place, I tip-toed into the apartment. I looked over my shoulder and out the door, toward the black BMW that was still parked in the street. I was a fool, but part of me hoped Malcolm might come after me. That hope was gone though, after I watched him start the car and drive away.

Shutting the door behind me, I locked it and saw my dad sleeping on the couch, as usual. Good. I didn't feel like dealing with him tonight anyway. I walked quietly through the living room and through the kitchen, stopping outside my siblings’ bedroom door first.

I pushed the door open a crack and glanced inside. I hated that they had to share a room. Teenage boys and girls both needed their own space, and the room was only about as large as a walk-in closet.

Their twin beds were pushed to opposite ends of the wall, but even still, they had to climb down to the bottom of the bed to get out – there wasn't enough room between the beds to form a decent walkway. Not all that long ago, they'd been forced to share a bed, but I'd found another twin mattress at Goodwill and bought it after a good night of tips.

Sharing a room with your teenage sibling – of the opposite gender, no less – was bad enough on its own. But, having to share a bed was too much. For their part though, they handled it with more grace than I probably could have mustered at their age. They were good kids and knew the score of things. They knew the situation we were in and didn't whine or complain about it very often.

Which somehow, seemed to break my heart a little more for the both of them.

I closed their bedroom door and walked to my room – the one I shared with our mother. Mom was fast asleep in her bed as I changed out of the bloody clothes. That's when I realized I still had Malcolm's jacket. I didn't know how I was going to get it back to him, but I'd find a way. I couldn't keep it.

I neatly folded it and placed it on top of the dresser before changing into a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt. My body ached, and I was exhausted, but my mind wouldn't shut off. Mostly, what I kept thinking about Malcolm's offer. Money like his would do a lot for us. It could get us out of there. My mom, siblings, and I could start a new life somewhere else. We could move somewhere more affordable, maybe inland or even to another state. Strictly speaking, nothing was keeping us in California – especially not in Los Angeles.

That kind of money could mean an entirely new start for us. Except, for the fact that I'd have to carry a child inside of me for nine months, of course. After having given birth to the child, I'd then have to hand it over to Malcolm and his family at the end. That was something that could be a little tough to do.

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