Divided: Divided

By Teigen Harper

The instant I saw Abby, as she stood crying inside my father's office at our family-owned timber mill, my body was drawn to hers. I wanted, nope, scratch that - I needed to know who she was. I needed to be close to her. However, when her beautiful lips parted, and she explained why she came, my entire world came crashing down around me. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teigen Harper
• Release date: Dec 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201232146

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Divided

Teigen Harper

Prologue

Chad

I'm disgusted with myself. What kind of sick fuck falls in love with their half-sister?

Sure, I had no idea she existed, but the moment I saw Abby, as she stood crying outside of my father's office at our timber mill, my body was drawn to her. I wanted, nope, scratch that, I needed to know who she was. I needed to be close to her, but when I spoke to her and I found out who she was, my entire world came crashing down around me. Immediately, I had to leave, but it wasn't because I'd just learned that my father had an affair when I was just a small boy. It was because of the fact that even after Abby announced who she was to me, my attraction for her didn't lessen. Not at fucking all.

Chapter One

Chad

I'm a simple guy with basic needs. Beer, cigarettes, sex, and fun. What more could a twenty-year-old want?

My decision to stay home and not head off to college like most of my peers was a gutsy move. It was one that had my parents in a tailspin, but eventually, they cooled off, and they began to understand why I wanted to stay back, living just outside of Lafayette, Tennessee.

Never had I wanted to move away to be with those I knew from high school. For as long as I can remember, I've never been one to play nice, and I knew how much trouble I'd find myself in if I had ballsed up and moved away for college. I'm not a people person. Yes, I act immature but never when it counts. 

Moving upwards in the family business was a passion of mine, and soon enough, my father saw how hard I was working at the mill, how I was managing the men, and the jobs they were supposed to be doing, so he decided to cut me in. 

He handed over half the business as a thank you for easing his responsibilities and telling our employees to shape up or fuck off. I've fired more men than I can count, and I've never felt bad about it. If they'd put their all into their work, they would still hold their positions.

Out here in Lafayette, not a lot happens. It's a small town with two bars, an old cinema that is well behind the time, especially considering we now live in a world run on electronics and has a couple of cafes where you can grab lunch.

My best bud Ricky and I do our best to fill in our downtime,

but it usually consists of the pair of us getting drunk and causing shit. 

When we're really desperate to get away for a night or two, we pack up my Dodge Ram truck and go on the hunt for fresh pussy to pound in neighboring towns. We've fucked all the decent bitches back home, and our village isn't swimming with tourists to pound.

One day, I plan to travel, but for now, I'm happy to stay put. I'm a trust fund baby, but I won't receive a cent of that until my twenty-first birthday in four months. I don't plan on quitting my job and leaving my father in the lurch when the money is released. I won't be one of those men that doesn't work for a living. I've always despised those that live off of the work of others. I understand that some people have extenuating circumstances, but the bums piss me right off.

As I sit at the kitchen Island in my parent's large, single-story, five-bedroom, six-bathroom home that rests on one hundred and ten acres, I watch as my mother, Mary, opens the oven to baste the chicken she has roasting. 

So, how was work? she asks. My mom is only forty and is in fantastic shape for her age, but I guess forty isn't what it used to be.

She works out in the home gym every morning and watches what she eats. My father, Scott, also looks very young for forty-one. Neither of them wants to grow old, so they do what they can to stay young on the inside and on the outside.

"Work was the same as always. Moving wood and telling the slack assholes what to do. It's getting ridiculous, mom. They do the bare minimum and expect to get paid fair wages. Ricky is the only one who does any fucking work, and that's because he respects both you and dad. I swear

if we didn't live in the middle of no fucking where, I'd fire them all, but the town only has a small population, and none of the young ones want to lift a finger. What the hell is going on?" I question as I take a sip from my icy cold bottle of beer.

Closing the oven, my mom turns around to face me, and she reaches up to tuck her straying, long brunette hair behind her ear. The internet and computers are what's wrong with this world, son. They want everything for nothing. Youtube is rotting the minds of the new generation. They all want to be Jackasses. They want to swap injuries for cash. It's fucking ridiculous, but it's just how it is, she merely shrugs.

Bingo! she's right. They're all morons, now. But as I go to continue talking, the front doorbell rings.

I'll go and get it, mom offers, leaving me to finish my beer. A beer I need to help wash away the day I've had.

Abby

M om, why won't you answer me? I'm nineteen, for god's sake. I need to know who my father is. I swear, if you don't tell me, I'll have to go and do the dirty work, myself. This has gone on for far too long. I've finished school now, and I'm not always at college, so I have the time to go to the courts and get the information I need. This woman has dodged these kinds of questions for years. Recently, I had to enroll in college, and the fact that I couldn't fill in my father's information on the forms pissed me off to no end.

Every child deserves to know the truth. Every child deserves to know their birth parents, at the very least their name. Yes, my mother has done the best she can for me over the years, and she's been able to provide the things most single mothers can't, but I still deserve to know where I come from. Who I come from. I won't do what I always do and give in. No, I will stand my ground until the very end.

As she places her phone down on the hall table, she looks up at me. I've always been fascinated by the fact that my mother and I look so much alike. We both have bright blue eyes, long blond hair, and the same nose and perfect cheekbones. I love it.

Abby, it's not that I want to keep you from your father. It's the fact that I promised him I'd keep his identity a secret, she sighs.

My brows bunch, my anger boiling. Fuck that, mom. Who is he? I don't care what he told you all those years ago! I have a right to know who he is. And I do. For years, my heart would break when my school would have father-daughter dances or bring your dad to school days. I always felt as if I never belonged anywhere. Fuck this shit- it's time I learn the truth. I don't care if he shows me the door when I do finally find him. I just need a name. That's it. I want to see if there's a possibility for me to finally form a bond with the man I share DNA with. Sure, if I find him and he turns me away, I'll be heartbroken, but at least I'll know I tried. I'll know I put in the effort. It's important to me.

My mother's head drops back in exasperation, and it's usually at this point that I give up and let the subject lye, but not this time. 

Tell me who he is, mom? If you don't, I will walk out to my car, head to the courthouse, and get the information I want and need. Please, if I have to do it myself, my respect for you will reduce significantly. I don't know why you're protecting a man you slept with way back in the day. A man that told you to fuck off and never contact him again. Why? Why do you continue to protect him? It's something I've never understood. 

Here I am, her daughter, someone she loves wholeheartedly, yet she continues to protect this stranger.

She lets go of a breath she'd been holding and motions for us to take a seat on the white leather sofa in the modestly sized living room.

Needing to stay calm, I do as she asks, and I take a seat on the sofa, crossing my legs under me, while she lowers herself down beside me and turns to face me. 

You're right, Abby. You do deserve to know, and I should be the one to tell you everything and not a judge, but I'll only tell you if you're sure you're ready to hear it all, right down to the sordid details? She reaches over, taking my hand in hers.

Shit, what the hell did they do? Nope, it doesn't matter. I can't back down now, not when she's ready to spill her guts after all these years. 

Raising my head, I meet her gaze and give her a tight nod. Yes, tell me everything, mom.

Her chest rises and falls as she tries to gain her composure. Okay, first off, I need to tell you that at the time of your conception, I didn't know that your father was married. Never would I have ever gone near him if I knew he was married beforehand, Abby. Shit, she looks like she's about to cry.

I know that, mom. I'm not here to judge you. I just want to know the truth. That's it, so please continue, I clarify. The only detail she's ever given me is that he was married and nothing more.

Giving a warm smile, she begins, "Okay, I met your father here in Santa Cruze. At the time, I was waitressing at a bar in town that's now closed down. From the minute he walked in with his dark eyes, tanned skin, and muscular chest, I was instantly attracted to him, and the feeling was mutual. He kept coming up to the bar and engaging in

small talk throughout the night, and when the bar closed for the night, he was the only patron remaining. Scott, your father, she pauses when she sees my eyes widen. Scott. My father's name is Scott. Wow, I have no fucking idea how to feel or how to react. Yes, sweetheart, your father's name is Scott. Scott Scarsdale, she says, and as she does, I see her body physically relax. As if a ton of weight was just lifted from her small shoulders. I haven't said his name aloud in eighteen years," she admits.

Tell me more about your relationship, mom. I want to know everything, I plead. I will not let her move a muscle until I have the facts.

Well, once I'd finished cleaning down the bar, I joined him at a table where we drank and talked for hours. Scott was such a warm, funny, and kind man, or so I thought, and then one thing led to another, and we ended up back at my apartment. Raising her hand, she continues, I'll spare you the graphic content, but he did spend the night. Her hand drops from mine. The next morning, he confessed that he was only in town for a week on business and that he couldn't become involved with anyone because of his work schedule. I wasn't bothered because I was still young myself, but regardless, Scott opted to stay with me rather than at the hotel his work had paid for located within a few miles from my apartment. The time we spent together was filled with laughter, but when the week was over, he didn't even give me his address so we could catch up, but he did give me his work number, so I could call him just to say hi. She tells me as she rolls her eyes. He was still adamant that there was to be no relationship between us. Eventually, he broke and told me that the real reason he couldn't see me was because he was married, but he added that the marriage was in trouble. I'd never felt so used and filled with rage. I threw him out the door and told him I never wanted to see him again. I felt horrible. I felt like I had taken part in the breakdown of a marriage. I can see it still hurts her to think about. 

Shit. Did she keep the truth from me to save herself having to relive her heartache? Or did she keep it from me not because Scott asked her to but because she feels ashamed of her role in the forbidden romance she shared with him?

Needing to comfort her, I lean in and kiss her cheek. Mom, you have nothing to feel embarrassed or ashamed of. You didn't know what a bastard he was. You are the innocent party in all of this. You would never have touched him if you knew he was married. It's not your fault, I repeat, hoping it sinks in. My mom has always hated people that cheated on their partners.

I know, sweetheart, but it's always played on my mind.

I get that, but I need to hear the rest.

She takes a deep breath and then lets it go before continuing, I put it out of my mind for the next three weeks, but when I realized that my period was late, I had no idea what I was going to do if it turned out that I was pregnant. And since you're sitting here, you know how that ended, she chuckles, and so do I. Anyway, I decided that I should do the right thing and call Scott to tell him the news, but immediately after the call, I wished I hadn't.

I'm beginning to hate this asshole, I confess. How much of a lowlife can one man be?

Shaking her head, she says, He could have changed over time, my sweet girl.

I hope you're right. Now, don't let my current feelings get in the way of you finishing the story, I press. I'm so close, I can't let her shut down while giving me the rest of the details.

"Okay. So, when I called him and told him I was pregnant and that the baby was his, he began screaming down the phone at me, telling me he would send the money for me to have an abortion. I explained that it would never happen. That I would never abort a child, regardless of the circumstance, but he kept pressing the fact that he had only just managed to get his marriage back on track and that he couldn't have his wife find out about me, about you. He even went on to tell me that he'd be disconnecting the number I'd called him on, so I couldn't even contact him again, and that's when he hung up on me. It wasn't until a week later that I received an envelope in the mail, and all it contained was five hundred dollars. To this day, I've never spent a cent of it. I still have the envelope with the money tucked inside,