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His Baby Girl

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Worth It

*Monroe’s POV*

After the treadmill ticks into the 6th mile, the sun has completely risen and I decide it’s time to get ready. I head upstairs to my room for a shower.

Stripping off my clothes and stepping into the white marble shower, I turn on the water with the golden faucets and let the stream from the rainfall shower head wash away the sweat that clings to me. Just as I am towel drying my hair, my phone pings.

Tommy: Have a good first day kiddo :)

I smile and reply: Thanks, I will <3

Tommy owns an MMA gym with his best friends Ryan and Dylan and they practically raised me when I started going there after my mother died. I spent almost all of my waking hours outside of school with them. They not only taught me how to fight, but about the value of hard-work and about controlling my emotions; all of these things were instrumental in me becoming the person I am today. Not many teenagers can go through what I did and come out stronger and I owe most of that to these guys.

Of course, spending my formative years with a bunch of 30-something year old bachelors who own an MMA gym did produce other side-effects like my appreciation of a good glass of whiskey, the casual smoking and my love of body-ink. By the time I was 17 I had covered a fair amount of my skin with many pieces; some with meaning, some without.

Still wrapped in my towel, I walk over to my closet contemplating what I should wear. I don’t want to attract attention, but I have a feeling what I wear isn’t really going to make a difference in that regard; I’ll be the new girl either way. I pick up black skinny jeans and a dark purple long sleeve t-shirt with a v-neck that hangs off my right shoulder, showing the top part of my intricate sleeve tattoo. Heading back to the bathroom to dry my hair, Bear and Kobe follow my movements with their eyes but still show no signs of actually getting out of the bed.

Once my hair is dried, I let my long chocolate colored waves loose around my shoulders and back. Thankfully, I inherited my hair from my mother; it always seems to cooperate with me. No matter the circumstances or weather, it falls into nice beachy curls with no frizz in sight. Actually, I inherited most of my features from my mother; her slim face, defined cheekbones, full lips, and a nose that curled up a tiny bit right at the tip. I also got her height and slim build; now, of course, having spent so many hours at a gym, my body is more toned than hers was, but it’s still hers. The only thing I inherited from my dad was his eyes. I got his big blue, almost grey eyes. They’re my constant reminder of the monster that created me.

After putting on some mascara and some tinted lip balm (the extent of my make-up abilities) I head out to the kitchen to make some breakfast. I start the coffee pot and then get to work on my breakfast smoothie. While my smoothie blends, I grab the dog bowls and fill them up from the bin in the cupboard under the island. As soon as that cupboard opens, I hear 8 paws rushing towards me. Food is the only thing those two rush anywhere for. I set the bowls down and they start munching away, tails wagging happily.

All three of us finish eating and the two dogs run down to the basement and through their doggy door into the fenced off 2 acre property I call my backyard. I’m glad that while I’m at school all day the dogs have each other and can run around to their heart’s content. I go brush my teeth, quickly fixing the white duvet and throwing on the fluffy dark green decorative pillows on my way by. I find Bear and Kobe running back up the stairs so I kneel down to scratch behind their ears.

“You two be good today, okay?”

They wag their tails and lick my face in response. Wiping off the slobber, I stand up and make my way to the front entrance. I check my backpack, making sure I have everything, even though I already know I do since I checked at least twice last night. I find some notebooks, various writing instruments, my wallet and a pack of cigarettes and a lighter (just in case).

I sling it over my shoulders and head out into the driveway, locking the door behind me. I open the first door to my three-car garage which contains my black Ducati Streetfighter; my favourite toy. To the right of it sits my black 4-door Jeep Rubicon with custom off-road upgrades (done by yours truly) and beside that, my white BMW M850i.

My love of vehicles and mechanics is another thing I picked up from Tommy, Jake and Dylan. I went a little wild when the money from selling my dad’s business first came in, but after my initial splurge, I promptly hired someone to handle my money and invest it properly.

If I wanted to, I could quit school now and just live off my inheritance, but I so desperately want to be successful in my own right so I’m going to work hard, become a lawyer and then dedicate my life to helping children get out of fucked up situations. If I could help even one child avoid what I went through, it would all be worth it.

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