2018 — Counterparts
Wasn't it just her luck that the kid didn't have a car. And that he insisted on following her to the drugstore to personally watch her take Plan B, because if she did not want to settle down with her fiancé and the man who she though she had loved, why on Earth would she ever want to have a child from a one night stand with a boy who turned out to be only seventeen, not even a full adult yet himself.
She did not share a bed with one night stands. Her mode of operation was fuck and then leave, no strings attached, and let the men go back to their unsuspecting wives and girlfriends while she wallowed in misery. Or maybe they were single like her, not that she ever bothered to ask. Single or attached it did not really matter to her.
After her first round with Hank the night before, she though she was satisfied, but as the bliss started to recede painful memories of her parents resurfaced and she gave him no choice and initiated round two. She took a perverse delight in this time mounting and riding him hard, keeping him firmly pinned to the bed and under her control — both literally and figuratively. She could feel the air crackling with Hank's frustration at not being in control and felt the thrill of dominating him as he had her not long before. Round three and four soon followed, and they were both too tired by the aftermath of five to do anything but collapse spineless back onto the bed and sleep until her phone alarm went off the next morning only three hours later.
That was how she ended up driving Hank home on a Thursday morning. She only ever worked four hours a day and was not expected to be at work for a few hours at least.
"Don't think this is ever happening again. It won't be," Gina warned as she drove, trying to focus more on the road than her passenger. It was tempting to leave him on the side of the road with money for a cab and be on her way and never see him again.
Hank smirked cockily at her. "You're the one who called me, babe," he said condescendingly, and Regina hated him for saying the simple truth. "Whose to say you won't call again."
"What makes you think you were good enough to remember?" Gina smirked, convinced she had gained the upper hand.
Hank was not about to be outdone. "I distinctly remember someone calling out my name at least twenty times. I'd say I was pretty memorable."
And he was right. And she hated him for being right. Cocky, arrogant kid.
Gina expected him to direct her to some squalid neighborhood with questionable looking trailer homes, and when she was instead instructed to turn into a neighborhood with rather large houses, she was quite surprised.
"Rich parents, kid?" she asked. He was above the age of consent at seventeen, but only barely. It was perfectly legal, but she still felt like some kind of pedafile for sleeping with someone twenty years her junior. She was easily old enough to be his mother.
"Something like that," Hank said, not wanting to elaborate on his life. He could have corrected her. Not parents. Parent. Singular. His mom walked out on him and his dad a while back. He did not really remember her, only that one day she was gone and it was just his dad and his dad could not be bothered to pay any attention to him. It was the job of the wife to spend time with and raise the kid — he was a busy business man who did not give one cent about his family other than the reputation it garnered him as a stable individual in front of potential investors — and with the wife gone, the kid might as well raise himself.
His dad could not even be bothered to care the nights he came home high or drunk, or both, but those occasions were rare.
Gina pulled into the driveway of the house Hank indicated and he got out of the car. She was about to leave when she caught sight of someone she thought she would never have to see ever again.
Hank, too, was bewildered that his dad would actually be bothered to step outside of the house to greet his wayward son.
"Where were you all last night?" the man thundered.
Hank snorted in contempt. Where indeed. Were it not for the free rent living at home provided he would not even still be there. Hell, he sometimes wondered if being homeless would be a step up from living with his father.
"Like you care, Tom." His voice was laced with disdain for the pathetic father figure in front of him. The man would never win an award for parenting, that was certain.
"Its dad to you, mister. Show some respect. Now where were you?"
"Like you care. Its not the first time I've been out all night. Why care now?" Hank could honestly not believe his father was furious, and then he wondered if the man even deserved the title of father. The bastard was a screwup. Wealthy but with no soul and no care for his child, it was little wonder Hank scorned his father.
"You're supposed to be in school, mister."
"Like you care about my education."
Hank could not believe what he was hearing. His mother left when he was in third grade. He received his first fail ever that year. His father had not cared. He was held back after fourth grade. His father did not care. He continually failed his classes, and as he grew older and his father paid less and less attention to him, he began acting out. It was not unusual for Hank to make multiple trips a week to the principal's office. At first, he had hoped that a call from the principle would get his father's attention. It did not. Then he started doing worse and worse things, and he then got suspended for a week. His father did not care. Or, more correctly, he did not care that Hank was acting out in school; however, the filthy rich bastard did care that he would suddenly have to pay for a babysitter for the next week, as Hank was not allowed to be alone during his suspension. The man had a jewel encrusted smart phone. It was not like the babysitter made any discernible dent in his wealth.
By that point, everyone at school expected Hank to act out. They expected him to be loud and obnoxious and rude, and though he finally realized that his father did not give a shit about his performance in school and acting out would achieve nothing, by that point he had formed a habit he had little desire to break. People expected him to misbehave and he did. People expected him to be a failure and he was. People expected him to act like a complete and utter ass and he did not disappoint.
"I got a phone call from your school this morning. You've been truant a lot, and it'll be my ass on the line if you keep missing. I don't care what you do at night, but from now on you will be home in time to go to school."
Hank rolled his eyes at his father's attempt at being menacing. He had long since stopped caring about his father's demands. Free room and board. That was the only reason he was still at home. He had nowhere else to go. Selfish bastard, Hank thought, the one and only time the man ever gave a crap about what Hank did was when it reflected poorly on himself.
"Sounds like your problem, not mine," Hank sneered.
From inside the car, Gina witnessed the entire spectacle. She was at first frozen by the sight of the man who she never wanted to see again, and then she realized she should probably leave before the man looked in the car. Before he saw her. She was instead transfixed. Hank appeared to be arguing, and she surmised he was the boy's father. Fan-fucking-tastic.
"Don't you dare speak to me like that," Hank's father shouted and slapped his son across the face, not caring if the neighbors could see.
As much as Gina did not want to confront him, she could not condone violence. She might not like the kid — hate him really, doubly so now that she recognized his father — but despite all her failings she still had a set of morals she followed and she would not let a minor be mistreated by his father.
Hank recoiled from the blow and rubbed his red cheek. It stung like a bitch, but what was new there? Emotional. Physical. Pain did not matter much to him.
When Gina saw the man raise his arm to strike the boy a second time, she finally stepped out of the car to confront her past. "Don't you dare lay another hand on him or I'll call the cops," she threatened. She was being serious. Her phone was already in her hand ready to dial.
The man lowered his arm at the same time Hank said, "I didn't need your help. Get out of here. This doesn't concern you."
"Damn straight, Gina. Git the hell out of here."
Gina knew Thomas King was well and truly pissed.
Had Gina considered leaving before, his demand for her to go would have changed her mind. She was absolutely made up. She would not leave, if only to spite her ex-fiancée who had ruined her life sixteen years ago.
"Not a chance," Gina said at the same time Hank asked them, "You know each other?"
Gina and Thomas King were both silent for a moment before Thomas said, "Used to be engaged to the crazy bitch."
Gina recoiled but her fury at the man who'd ruined her life all those years ago returned full force.
"Just what the hell were you doing with my son?" Thomas King demanded.
Had she been in a normal state of mind, she would have simply ignored him, gotten in the car, and driven away. There was no reason she had to stand face-to-face with Thomas King once more. Unfortunately for Gina, she was not in her right state of mind. "If you must know, we fucked." No need to pull back the punch; she intended her words to cut, and they did. A razor's blade.
Hank was still reeling for the revelation that Gina was once engaged to his father. He wondered what kind of position that put him in.
Gina's cool and calculating words served one purpose: they returned Thomas King to his cunning self. "No one else would sleep with you, ugly," he taunted her. He held a deep-seated resentment for the woman who once refused him. No one refused him. He was attractive, successful and wealthy. He was every woman's dream come true.
"I resent that," Hank protested. A last resort? Seriously? He had to be upgraded to second-to-last at the very least. She could do worse. At least he wasn't married. Wasn't an alcoholic. But he did have his vices.
Gina ignored him completely, the full extent of her hatred focused on the elder of the two men. "Have you looked in a mirror recently?" she asked, her voice saccharine in a way that made her words crack like a whip, more harsh than her anger.
"Get off of my property before I call the cops on you for trespassing," Thomas King returned her threat.
Gina did not want to leave but with his threat and the toxic atmosphere she knew it was best that she did, but she could not resist delivering one last blow to the pompous, arrogant Thomas King.
Rather than directing her next comment to him, she turned to Hank. "Do you seriously want to stay with him, kid?" she asked.
Hank snorted. "No," he said bitterly. Free room and board was his mantra. Free room and board. The moment he turned eighteen and was no longer legally his father's responsibility, Hank was under no delusions that his father would continue to let him live there. He was running against a clock so to speak.
He needed a place to stay and she just happened to have an extra house, and it was the perfect way to rile Thomas King further. The misogynistic man would feel emasculated by the perceived inability to support his child.
Gina texted Hank the address to the house. She then pulled the key out of her purse and tossed it to him. "Stay there as long as you want. Rent's free," she said.
Gina was sure there were two gaping mouths behind her, but she did not look at either of them as she slid into the drivers seat. Horrible. Fucking. Day.