Bad Nanny (The Bad Nanny Trilogy #1) Read online

  “He's a bad boy ... and a nanny.”

  Bad Nanny

  Bad Nanny © C.M. Stunich 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  For information address Sarian Royal Indie Publishing, 89365 Old Mohawk Rd, Springfield, OR 97478.

  www.sarianroyal.com

  ISBN-10: 1938623290 (eBook)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-938623-29-5 (eBook)

  Cover art and design © Amanda Carroll and Sarian Royal

  "Destroyed Aero" Font © Jayvee Enaguas

  "Futurist Fixed Width" Font © WSI

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, businesses, or locales is coincidental and is not intended by the author.

  this book is dedicated to chance meetings.

  because you never know when chance is really just fateful circumstance …

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  “Move for me,” I growl, curling my hands around my new lady friend's hips. She's got almost as many tattoos as I do and the kaleidoscope mind-fuck of her arching her back above me is just about enough to send me over the edge.

  She squeals and giggles as I flip her over and run my fingers through her hair. It's like cotton candy, all pink and soft and shit. I fucking love Las Vegas. Ever since I moved here and got a job as a body piercer, I've had so many opportunities to meet new friends. Friends that smell like body butter, with soft skin, and healthy sexual appetites.

  Oh yeah.

  This is the real “City That Never Sleeps” and there's no way in hell I would ever leave. I don't think this girl, Kitty, and me have slept in three days. Thank God for holiday weekends, right?

  “Oh, Zay,” she moans, running her tongue up the side of my face. I grab her wrists in my hands and slam them into the pillow behind her head, nipping at her exposed throat as I thrust hard and fast, slamming our pelvises together with the sweet sound of flesh on flesh. Oh God yes. “You are the world's fucking hottest nerd.”

  I grin big.

  “Hey, just because I take breaks to shoot rebel soldiers online with my buddies does not make me a nerd.” I put a little extra strength in my next thrust and get rewarded with a guttural groan from Kitty's pretty little lips. If she hadn't walked into the shop to get her tits pierced on Friday, I'd have missed out on all this fun. Lucky me.

  “You have a toy collection, Zayden,” she says, but I don't respond. If she's able to talk, then I'm not doing my job right.

  “What if I asked you to be one of my little toys? Because I want to play all night long with your movable parts.” Kitty laughs and I groan. Ladies, laughter tightens up all those muscles downstairs. Guys fucking love it. Laugh more during sex, pretty please.

  I nibble Kitty's lower lip, tasting cherry lip gloss, and slide my tongue into her mouth. Fuck, do I love women. They always smell so good, feel so soft, taste so sweet. If I had to list my hobbies for a stranger, it'd go like this: fucking, video games, fucking, and listening to pop music. But don't tell anybody about that last one or I'll have to kill you.

  I squeeze Kitty's wrists tighter, fuck her harder, and feel myself on the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm when my phone goes off, buzzing across the nightstand like a vibrator gone rogue.

  The ringtone is the song Toxic, but not the Britney Spears version (even though I secretly dig it). I had to save face, so I put on A Static Lullaby's cover instead.

  There's only one person on my contacts list that has that ringtone and he never calls.

  I pause for a moment, but Kitty wiggles beneath me and I end up dropping my mouth to her freshly pierced nipples. I run my tongue around one and avoid the sore spot, teasing just close enough to make her squirm.

  “I'm coming, Zay,” she groans as my cock drives deeper and harder. I can feel her tightening around me, getting ready to explode. Thank God. I don't think I could hold on much longer.

  The phone stops ringing and then immediately starts up a second time.

  I pause yet again, and Kitty ends up getting her hands free, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  “So close,” she whispers against my ear. “So close. Don't stop.”

  So I keep going and then fucking fuck, there goes that damn phone again.

  “I have to answer it,” I say, because my brother, he only calls if there's an emergency. I stay right where I am, wrapped up inside of Kitty, and lean over to take the call.

  “What the fuck do you want? This better be good. I'm entertaining company right now.”

  My brother doesn't hesitate to rip me a new one.

  “Do you have any compassion at all, Zayden? What is your goddamn problem? It's not like I ever ask you for anything. You never return my phone calls or texts, never come home for the holidays.”

  “Okay, and what's wrong with that? It's not as if we're exactly close,” I say and then sit back in shock when Kitty slaps me across the face with an open hand.

  “I was close,” she snaps at me, shoving me back and climbing off the bed. I watch in stunned frustration as she gathers her jeans and tugs them on. “Enjoy the rest of your Thursday, you dick.”

  The front door slams closed behind her as I tug off my condom with a growl. Great. Just great. And I didn't even get her number or her last name. What a waste.

  “I need your help, Zayden,” Rob says, and I catch the strain in his voice right off the bat. Whatever this is, it really is serious. I feel a little guilty for being an asshole—to both Rob and Kitty—and climb off the bed to dispose of the condom in the trash can under the window. “It's Mercedes' parents,” he continues as I open the top drawer of my dresser and grab some boxers. My hard-on's long gone now, no point in wandering around naked. Feels kind of wrong to have my junk hanging out when I'm talking to my brother, you know what I mean?

  “Okay?” I ask, trying to be sympathetic. I mean, Rob might be a jerk, but his wife, Mercedes, is actually pretty awesome. Sometimes when Rob's asleep and she doesn't think she'll get caught, she gets online and joins my raid group. That girl can take on a red dragon zombie boss like nobody's business—impressive, even if it's all part of a computer game.

  “They were in an accident,” he says, sounding tired and worn-out. Rob works as an insurance salesman, so I can totally see that. If I worked as an insurance salesman, I'd only be at the job long enough to buy a gun and a single bullet.

  “Oh, shit, are they alright?” I ask, pausing in the kitchen. It's a disaster of takeout and pizza boxes, and it smells like my cat's litter box. Well, technically, he's not my cat. One of my girlfriends left him here when she moved out, and I kind of like the little bastard. I spy the cat crouched on my stove, completely hairless, a hideous feline monstrosity, and flip it off. Hubert hisses at me and flicks his tail, glaring at me with creepy white-green eyes. The effect is somewhat lessened since he's wearing a black sweater. Hey, this is Vegas and it gets hotter than hairy balls in a pair of briefs. I keep the air conditioner cranked, and Hubert being a hairless cat and all, he gets the chills.

  Guess I really am a nerd.

  “They're alive, if that's what you're really asking,” Rob says, just before a piercing screech crashes through the phone and I jerk it away from my ear like I've been slapped. Either that's a banshee coming to take my soul to the underworld, or it's Rob's daughter, Kinzie. Yes, Kinzie. Weird name. I know, that's what I thought, too.

  I am so fucking glad
I don't have children.

  I work very, very hard to make sure my dick is sheathed at all times. And I always use my own condoms, just to make sure they're fresh and free of holes. Honestly, if I had to choose between having kids and throwing myself off of a bridge, I'd have to think for a while to give you an answer.

  “Well, that's good, right?” I ask, shooing the cat off the stove and sliding an old pizza box forward. The slices inside are stiff and tough, like chewy cardboard covered in melted plastic. I shove the end of one in my mouth anyway and turn around, leaning back against the counter. “So what do you need me for?” I ask around a mouthful.

  “You know her parents live in South Africa, right?”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “And that's halfway around the world.”

  “Okay?”

  “Zayden, they're in critical condition. There's a good chance neither of them will make it through the week.” I flinch and swallow my bite.

  “Man, I'm so sorry to hear that. Give Mercedes my love and tell her I'm praying for them.”

  “Why don't you tell her yourself?” Rob asks cryptically as I snap my fingers at Hubert who's desperately trying to untangle himself from his sweater.

  “Put her on, I guess,” I say, wrinkling my brow and finishing up my pizza slice. I scratch my belly with tattooed fingers and wait.

  Silence.

  “Rob?”

  “Zayden, Mercedes and I are flying to Joburg to see them. Tomorrow.”

  Joburg. Johannesburg. The city that's home to the tallest building in Africa. That much, at least, I know. Everything else here is a mystery to me. I grab a second slice of pizza and then toss it aside. That one has mold on it. Third one looks fine though.

  “What the fuck are you getting at? You know I suck at word games, Rob.”

  “Zayden, I'm asking you to drive up here. You know, to take care of the kids for me.”

  Holy shit.

  “Um, no?” I say, barely managing to keep from dropping my pizza to the floor. Take care of Rob's kids? I've met them once. Once. And they were little demons from hell—screeching, wailing, squalling monsters. Oh, and that's not to mention the brand-new freaking baby they just had like last year or whatever. A seven year old girl, four year old twins (who may or may not be human based on their behavior), and an infant.

  Oh fuck the fuck out of that.

  “Why doesn't Mercedes go, and you can stay with the kids?”

  “My wife's parents are on their death beds, Zayden, and all you can think about is yourself? Do you think I'd have called if I had anyone else?”

  “That really inspires confidence, bro. Why would you even trust me with watching your kids anyway? I killed two goldfish last week. On accident.” I don't mention the fact that it was actually Hubert who murdered Teensy and Woo-woo, two more pets left over from a past girlfriend.

  “I work a shit job. I have no money, no family in this world other than you. Mercedes has nobody left other than her parents. Zayden, please. Don't send my wife alone to watch her parents die.”

  Aw, man.

  I stand up straight and pad across the cold slate tile floor to the fridge to grab a soda. My brother's using the sympathy card on me right now, and it's working. I might be kind of a douche sometimes, but I'm really a nice guy underneath. I think? I mean, I try to be anyway.

  “The kids don't have passports, Zay. And Mercedes doesn't want to take the baby on such a long flight. Can you imagine trying to care for a six month old in a hotel room? Or how about at the side of a hospital bed?”

  “Dude, it's a fourteen hour drive up there and all I have is my ugly ass Geo. The car is older than I am, Rob. I was conceived in the backseat of the damn thing. I can't drive that piece of shit to the grocery store, let alone into California.”

  I pop the top on my Mountain Dew and down half of it before Rob decides to speak again, his voice low and thick, like he's on the verge of tears. Fucking Christ. In the background, Kinzie screams again, sending a chill down my spine.

  “You're my last chance, Zay. Please. Please do this. What would Mom and Dad say if they were here?” I roll my eyes and run the fingers of my right hand through the hair on the left side of my scalp. The other side is currently shaved like a military man gone punk. “I'll tell you what they'd say: Family is everything and everything is family. This is as much your problem as it is mine, Zay. We're brothers, and even though you can be an irresponsible prick sometimes, I love you.”

  “Gah,” I stick my tongue out at my own reflection and shake my head. I can't take this lovey family shit. I feel myself just about ready to cave in. My buddy runs the shop I work at, so he'd understand. Besides, I could get the new dude, what's-his-face, to take over my appointments for me. I'd miss out on a lot of nipple piercings, but what choice do I have? I can't tell Rob no and not feel like a piece of human garbage, now can I? “Fine.”

  Rob sighs in relief as goose bumps break out over my arms.

  I'm going to hate this. Every second of it. I know that to be a fact.

  “But I want a plane ticket. I can't drive fourteen hours straight, man.”

  “I can't afford a plane ticket for you. I just spent all of my savings on tickets for Mercedes and me. You'll have to drive. If you leave now and take minimal rest stops, you can be here a few hours before our flight leaves tomorrow.”

  I start to protest, but the phone is suddenly snatched away from my brother by his wife.

  “Thank you, Zay,” she sobs, voice thick and sniffly. “Thank you so much. I love you like the little brother I never had, you know that right?”

  Great.

  I'm a sucker for pretty girls in distress.

  I purse my lips so tight that my lip rings stand out like swords on either side of my mouth.

  “See ya in fourteen hours then.”

  Here I am with my hair all mussed up and my kitty cat pajama pants wet from the dew soaked grass. Not exactly the way I had envisioned this night going. Granted, I had known moving back to Eureka wouldn't be pleasant, but I hadn't expected this. Mom had led me to believe that she would be here to help me out, teach me to be the parent my sister refuses to be anymore.

  So much for keeping my life on track.

  I breathe out and my breath fogs white in the cool night air.

  “Grace?” I call, searching the massive backyard for my niece. “Honey, it's not a good time for hide and seek.” I hear giggling and see a flicker of a white nightgown dart between two trees. My skin ripples with goose bumps. Yikes. Horror movie, much? Nobody in their right mind walks around a mist drenched yard at two in the morning searching for a creepy cackling child.

  I suppose I'm not exactly in my right mind then.

  Must not be if I was willing to leave UC Berkeley for my hometown, step into someone else's life like this. It's a life I definitely didn't want. There's a reason my sister had her first child when she was sixteen, and I'm still a virgin.

  “Gracie, baby, it's time for bed. Auntie starts her new job soon and she'd really like to catch up on some sleep before she takes her clothes off for strangers.” I whisper that last part to myself, doing my best not to think about the adult dancing job I just landed at the Top Hat Gentlemen's Club. I still have a few days to find something else, anything else.

  My waist length hair blows around my face in a brunette curtain as I sweep it back and try to slink quietly through the grass toward the back corner of the yard. I think I can see a snippet of Grace's nightgown from here. I'm just about to dart around the tree and grab her when my foot lands in something questionable. One glance down and I see that it's a giant pile of dog crap. Shivers take over me as I cringe and try not to throw up.

  Fantastic.

  My parents are on vacation in Edinburgh, Scotland, so any chance of help is far out of reach. While they're at the zoo gawking at pandas and whatnot, I'll be here trying to figure out how to juggle my new job and my biostatistics classes against a sudden influx of responsibility. How many twenty-t
wo years old inherit two children from their awful, selfish, drug addicted sister? What kind of person just up and leaves the country, abandoning their kids alone at home? Ingrid didn't even tell anyone. She left a note and said good-bye to her girls while they were busy watching Netflix.

  Anyway, I'm here now and I'll figure out how to make things work—and I'll excel at it. I always do. Even if I have to sacrifice some of my dignity and self-respect to do it.

  I light my chin and square my shoulders. I made the right choice in moving back here, in accepting a job that pays well, even if it's not exactly my cup of tea. Even if it sounds like hell. Ugh. Would my parents have still left the kids with me if they knew I was going to start stripping come tomorrow? Probably not. But they've been saving and planning for this trip for years. I can't let Ingrid's choices derail everyone's lives.

  Somebody has to pick up my sister's mantle and forge onward.

  A cold northwesterly wind whips across the yard and ruffles the branches of the redwood trees that loom above us like giants, silent spectators to this debacle of debauchery my sister's created.

  I'm alone. With a three and a seven year old. Crap.

  “Aunt Brooke?” Bella says from the back door, clutching the frame with small hands. Her pale pink nightgown flutters in the icy breeze from the bay.

  “Yeah, baby?” I say, getting myself together, running my fingers through my tangled hair. I pick my way back across the wet lawn and pause on the sidewalk at the base of the deck. “What is it?”

  “Dodger was crying and crying, so I let him out the front door to go to the bathroom.” She shuffles her feet a little. “I keep calling him, but he won't come back.”

  I see where this is going.

  I take a deep breath to calm my nerves.

  Grace and Bella have been through a lot already, and it's my job to bring the beauty of stability back into their lives until I can figure out how to get Ingrid to move her ass back here.

  Okay. Okay, I can do this.

  “Why don't you help me find your sister?” I ask as I move up the steps and brush some of Bella's dark hair from her forehead. “And then I'll go look for the dog.”