Pregnant For My Bully

Jason Davenport

The only time I’d ever left Wayne’s county was during the holidays, on trips with Dad and mom. Now I was all alone in a strange town. I’d been spending nights cooped up in dark alleys and abandoned cars, still unsuccessful at finding a job.

Close to death, I’d scavenged through a trash can behind a small restaurants to pick out leftovers for myself.

Today I couldn’t find any abandoned cars to sleep in so I was squeezed in an alley, hands deep in the pockets of my hoodie.

I shivered, the cold chilling my bones. Trying to think happy thoughts I finally managed to doze off.

I woke up to someone shaking me roughly. Instinctively, I backed pushed the figure away, getting prepared to run for my life. These leftovers were my last. I didn’t need anyone trying to steal it from me.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

“Hey, hey, calm down boy. I’m not here to hurt you,” The figure spoke reassuringly, raising both hands as if in surrender. “I was just passing through.”

I squinted, seeing that it was daylight already. The figure was a shabby looking old man. He looked harmless so I relaxed a little. But I was still suspicious.

“Holy smokes,” He exclaimed, peering more closely at me. “You’re just a kid. What on earth are you doing sleeping on the streets?” He frowned.

I backed away, lowering my head. The last thing I needed was someone getting me into trouble.

I looked up at the old man. For the most part he looked concerned. Maybe he could help me. I contemplated on whether to tell him about my situation.

Taking a deep breath, I muttered, “I was kicked out. I did something terrible and I was kicked out. I’ve got nowhere to go now and I’ve been trying to get a job,” I finished, my eyes glued to the floor.

I didn’t want to see the judgement in his eyes.

After a few moments the old man cleared his throat. “I’m not gonna ask you what you did. You woulda told me if you wanted to. So I won’t ask.”

I offered him a grateful look.

“It’s unlikely you’ll get yourself a job ’round here though, looking like that,” He gestured to my clothes.

He scratched his head, thinking.

“Well, I got a small farm a few blocks away and I’ve been searching for someone to help around with some work. I’m getting old ya see?”

I gulped. A farmhand?

“So if you’re interested, you come right on with me. If not, then goodluck in your search. But let me warn you though, the pay isn’t worth shit. But it’s all I can afford.”

I thought fast and hard.

I’d never worked on a farm before. I wasn’t sure I was cut out for that. But I had no choice now. Taking a chance, I asked. “How much is the pay?”

“Two dollars.” He replied simply.

I frowned deeply. Two dollars per hour was almost no pay at all.

“A week,” He added.

“What?!” I nearly staggered to the floor. “Two dollars per week?!”

“Yep.”

I glared at him, hoping he was pulling my legs. But he looked pretty set on. My hope began to deflate. I wouldn’t be able to save up enough to get the cot before Amelia was due.

“Hurry up and make your decision, boy. I haven’t got all day.”

I tried again. “Five dollars. Sir.”

The farmer gave loud guffaw. “If I could afford to pay you that much I wouldn’t be here. Still on two dollars, son. And right now, you need me more than I need you so…”

Nodding and quickly bending to grab my leftovers, I wiped a stray tear and followed quickly behind him.