Daddy Loves You- NC-17

Chapter One

Marshall Mathers paced his bathroom, sweat running down his face. His legs felt weak. He sat down on the toilet, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He couldn't think straight. He couldn't see straight. His whole world seemed to have been rocked.

His daughter. His seventeen year old daughter. Pregnant. Though he understood him, the words didn't want to register into his brain. She'd just graduated high school- she'd been put in a year early, so she was younger then her friends. She'd had good grades. She never got into trouble.

Pregnant.

He lived in Shreveport, Louisiana and had been since he got out of rehab nine months earlier. Morgan stayed in Detroit so she wouldn't have to switch to a new school.

It was fifteen minutes since he'd found out the news. Through a text. He didn't blame her- she was probably to scared to call and tell her. It seemed so long ago, though. An eternity.

His stomach lurched, and he hopped off the toliet, yanked it up and spilled the remnants of his dinner into it. He sunk to the floor.

He was going to kill that piece of shit. That little boy who destroyed his daughters life...He pictured himself wrapping his hands around that little fuckers throat.

He picked up the phone, numbly dialing his managers number.

"Hello?" Came Paul's voice.

"Book a flight to Detroit," He ordered, his voice high pitch from shock.

"It's midnight," Paul said flatly, "What-"

"Just do it," He snapped.

"What the hell for?"

"Just book the fucking flight!" Marshall snarled.

"Alright, alright!" Paul said, "But I better get a fucking explanation, Mathers, I was dead ass asleep. I'll call you back when its booked."

"Thank you!" He snapped, and slammed the phone back down.

First, he was going to visit his daughter in Michigan.

Then, it was off to see the little fucker that got her pregnant.

Lil Romeo.

Chapter Two

"Did you tell him?" My mother asked as she stood in the doorway of my room. She used the same disgusted tone as she always did when she spoke of my father.

I was sitting on the edge of my bed, my back to the door. Tears ran down my face. My father never texted me back the night before. I knew he' hated me. I knew it.

"I asked you a question, Marie," She snarled, as if she didn't want to speak to me ever but had no choice but to. She then repeated more slowly, as if I were stupid, "Did you tell him?"

"Yes!" I snapped, wiping away my tears. There was no way that I was going to let her see my tears. My weakness. I stood up and turned around to face her.

"I told him, okay?" I yelled, "What do you want? Leave me alone!"

I never got along with her. I never had. But I wouldn't let my father on to the fact that I wasn't happy living with her. I wouldn't let him think that I couldn't handle it.

"I want you to abort that thing!" She screeched. I could smell the alcohol on her, though I was all the way across the room from her. Kim, as she called her mother when she wasn't around, had been drinking since I told her I was pregnant in the first place two days ago.

"That thing is your grandchild and I am not going to fucking abort it!" I screamed.

"Then I don't want you living here!"

"I NEVER WANTED TO LIVE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!"

I grabbed my ipod and stormed past her.

I bought a pepsi, then walked to a nearby park and sat on a swing, listening to my ipod.

Two months along, I was. Thats what the doctor had said. I only had seven months and I'd be a parent.

Seven short months.

210 days.

So, I told my dad. I told my mom. The only person left that I knew I had to tell was the father. I was not looking forward to that. I hadn't really talked to him since...well, since this baby had been conceived.

I shuddered what to think about would happen when my father got his hands on Romeo. And when Curtis got ahold of him. And Andre. And Tony. And Marquise. And..and, well. Everybody.

I thought about the night I had sex with Romeo Miller. I remembered everything about it. Everything. What I was wearing. What he was wearing. What cologne he was wearing.

Abort, abort, abort.

That's all my mother had been talking about since I told her. I'd told her each time. I wasn't aborting. I never could. I'd always been against it. And adoption, I couldn't do that either.

I'd known I was pregnant exactly a week and I already had a connection with this baby.

"Morgan!" Came a sudden, loud voice. I pulled the ipod headphones out of my ears and looked up.

It was my father.

Chapter Three

Marshall had just left Kim's house, furious as fuck. How could she let Morgan out of her sight like this? he thought. He had told her that he was coming, and to keep her in the house, but does that bitch listen? No. He drove around, looking for his seventeen year old pregnant daughter.

He wanted to be mad at her. Oh boy, did he want to be mad at her. But he couldn't. He never had been able to. But that Romeo kid, the son of that rap guy, Master P, oh, he could be mad at him. And he was going to be mad at him. For a long, long time.

Finally, he spotted her at a park. She was sitting on a swing, her hood on her sweatshirt up, her head hung low, listening to her ipod. He called her name, but no response.

"MORGAN!" He yelled. She jumped, then looked up at him. She yanked her headphones out of her ears, shoved it in her pocket and stood up.

Marshall could tell how badly she was stressed out; her hair, usually bouncy and full of life hung limp around her face. You could tell by the bags under her eyes she hadn't slept very much. She had a sad, tear stained face.

Marshall walked up to her, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face in his shoulder, just like she used to when she was younger and was crying.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," She said, practically sobbing.

"I'm not mad, Morgan," He said, his voice strained.

She wiped her tears and looked up at him.

"You're not?" She said very quietly.

"Let's get out of this weather," He said, taking her by the arm and leading her to the car, for it had started raining.

"No, I'm not mad at you," He said finally. He hadn't started the car, but in the small moment they'd been in the car, it had already started pouring rain.

"I wish you would have waited longer," He said, looking out the window, "Much, much longer. But you didn't. And we are going to have to deal with this together."

"Together?" Morgan asked, lip quivering. She'd not expected this. She expected him to turn the other cheek like Kim had, "Kim said she wanted me to get an abortion."

"She wanted you to do what?" He asked, furious.

"Y-you mean, you don't want me to-" Morgan began, studdering.

"Of course not!" He said immediatly.

"She..she said," Morgan began, looking at her feet, "That if I didn't abort it she didn't want me living there."

"Good," He said, "Because you weren't going to be living with her any longer anyways. I didn't trust your mother for shit, and I don't want her anywhere near my pregnant daughter."

"I'm coming to live with you?" She asked, not looking up.

"Yes," He said, "As soon as we get your stuff packed. Then we got to make a little pit stop."

"Where?" She asked, looking up at her father, who had his hands gripping the steering wheel with force, looking straight ahead.

"New Orleans," He said, "We are gonna go pay a little visit to Romeo."

Liking the diverse characters & new ideas. Keep going please. I haven't had time 2 update any of mines because I'm busy with a real novel. I do however throw the news out there Keep reading & writing guys Leave some feedback here too. Alot of effort is thrown into a story

The next few days flew by in a quick, surreal blur; my father took me back to my house, and told my mother that I was going to be moving in with him whether she liked it or not. They proceeded to get in the biggest fight I'd ever seen.

Not over me going to live with my dad; my mother welcomed that. She was happy to be rid of me. They actually fought over the life that was currently residing in my stomach.

My mom blamed my dad.

My dad blamed my mom.

I blamed myself, though I stayed quiet through out the duration of the yelling match. I didn't want to get into the middle of it. I would probably just start crying. Again.

Then we packed all of my stuff and sent it to Shreveport. W

Now, I was sitting in an airplane seat between my dad on my right by the window and Curtis, my dad's best friend, on my left. We were going to pay a visit to New Orleans, where Romeo lived. My head was tipped back on the head rest, my eyes closed, fighting the oncoming panic attack.

I, like my father, had Panic Disorder. I rarely ever had panic attacks, but when I did, they were pretty bad. I had all the symptoms I usually did when I was having one.

I was sweating. I had the shortness of breath. I had a pain in my chest that wasn't heartburn. I was feeling dizzy, and then there was the worst symptom. The feeling of oncoming death, even though I knew nothing was going to happen.

"Are you okay, Morgan?" My dad said quietly from next to me, "Are you having a panic attack?"

"Yes," I murmured, not opening my eyes, "Do you have any Zanax on you?"

"You don't have any?" He asked. Which mean that he didn't have any either. Shit.

"I'm never one to think ahead," I said under my breath. There was another hour until the plane landed; I was screwed. I felt my panic rising thinking of this.

Another hour, no medicine. Living with this panic.

"Don't worry," Curtis said, "I gotcha."

He pulled my prescription bottle out of his pocket. I looked at it like it was gold.

"How did you-" I began.

"I knew this was going to happen," He said, "And I seen it when we were packing, so I grabbed it. Next time, think of this."

He handed me the bottle. I asked for something to drink and took the medicine. I was calm within minutes.

"Thank you, Curtis," I said, finally smiling a little bit.

About an hour and a half later, we were sitting in the hotel room in New Orleans.

"What am I even supposed to say?" I asked, "Oh yeah, Romeo, by the way. I'm having your kid!"

My father and Curtis exchanged looks, but didn't say anything. We were watching videos on MTV. One by Nick Cannon was on. My dad was bout to change the channel when I snatched the remote from him, intrigued.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4AqPRcF7ZC0

Not only was I crying by the end of that video, but I was balling almost as hard as I was when I found out I was pregnant. I was in the bathroom, sitting against the door, eyes closed and crying.

That video really struck a nerve. I wasn't sure how Nick even did that video. I would have cried the whole time.

"Come on, baby, the chauffer is going to be here in five minutes," My dad said gently from outside the door.

I stood up and washed my face, then reapplied my make up and came out looking fresh.

"It'll be okay," My dad reassured when we were in the limo.

"Yeah, until he slams the door in my face," I mused, frowning.

"He's not going to," My dad said.

"He ain't going to be able to have no more kids after that if he does," Curtis said under his breath, looking out of the window.

Curtis was just as overprotective of me as my dad was; sometimes even worse. We got to the house. I was shaking, fighting off tears again. I knocked on the door with Curtis and my dad behind me.

Romeo answered.

"Morgan!" He said, taking me in a quick hug before I could respond. I was stiff; nervous. I could feel the hostility rolling off of the men behind me.

"I need to talk to you," I said, actually managing to be calm and in control. We went into his house.

"You guys wait in here," I said, going into the living room with Romeo and leaving Curtis and my dad in the entrance area.

"Is something wrong?" Romeo asked, looking concerned.

"It depends on how you look at it," I said, crossing my arms nervously and looking down. Romeo was tall, well over a foot taller then my 5'1". I knew he was somewhere around 6'4", because he was about an inch taller then my dad, who was 6'3". His muscles were really big; he worked out a lot.

"Morgan, what do you mean?" He asked, confused.

I bit my lip, unable to fight off the tears anymore. They spilled over for the second time that day.

I took his hand.

"I- I'm pregnant."

Chapter Five

Romeo jerked his hand back, recoiling as if I had slapped him. A look of shock over took his face, and he stepped back about a foot. I struggled to contain my tears. I didn't want my dad to know I was crying.

Again.

"No, you're not," He denied, shaking his hand, "You can't be. I don't want to belive it. I can't be-"

"The father?" I finished, "Yes, you can, Romeo. You're the only guy I've had sex with since I lost my virginity a year ago."

"You're having my baby."

It wasn't a question anymore.

"In seven months," I nodded, wiping away my tears, "I'm two months along."

He walked forward slowly, almost stumbling. I wasn't sure what he was doing until I saw him staring at my stomach, where, already a belly was beginning to grow.

"I know you probably don't want to be in the baby's life-" I said, biting my lip. I waited for the hurtful words to slice through the air, cutting me.

I don't want you.
I don't want your baby.
I want nothing to do with that thing.


The same words my mother had uttered.

"What?" He asked.

"I said I know you probably-"

"No, no," He said, holding up a hand and cutting me off, "I heard you. I just don't know what your talking about."

"What do you mean?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

"I made this baby, didn't I?" He asked.

"Yeah, but most guys-"

"I'm not most guys," He said flatly.

I turned away from him, looking out of the big living room window. It was pouring rain, hard.

"Why are you crying?" He asked quietly.

"I'm scared," I whispered. It was the first time I had said it out loud.

He walked in front of me.

"So am I," He scared, "Shitless, in fact. But I'm here."

He wrapped his arms around me in a tight, much needed hug.

Marshall's Point Of View[/b]

"I'm freaking, 50, man. I am freaking," Marshall said to his best friend as he paced the entrance hall of Romeo Miller's house. Right now his seventeen year old daughter was telling eighteen year old Romeo that she was having his baby.

"I ought to go in there and whoop that little fuckers ass," Curtis Jackson mumbled under his breath. He'd known Morgan for almost ten years; since 2000. They were close. Family.

It's a good thing Dre ain't here Curtis thought to himself He actually would go in there and whoop his ass

Andre 'Dr. Dre' Young had a much quicker temper then the two of them; and he, like Curtis, was very close to Morgan.

She was only seventeen, and having a baby. Marshall pondered quietly.

She's still my baby

Chapter Six

"It didn't go that bad," Curtis said as we sat parked in the near empty parking lot of Buffalo Wild Wings. I had my legs crossed Indian style on the seat and I had a big order of Wings and french fries in my lap.

My dad was at the hotel room, on the phone with Percy Miller. Romeo's father. Better known to the rap world as Mater P.

My curly, light blonde hair hung over my shoulders, part of my bangs covering part of my face and my deep, sapphire blue eyes. From my father, of course.

"It ain't go that good either, Curtis," I frowned, "I would have much rather not gone."

"He would have figured it out," Curtis mused, taking a bite of the french fries, "When you gave birth compared to when you guys..."

"Conceived," I said, putting up a hand to stop what he was about to say, "Please, for the sake of my sanity, say conceived."

It was to embarrassing to talk about sex with Curtis. He was like an uncle to me. Talking about sex with him would be almost embarrassing as talking about sex with my father.

"But yeah, I guess you're right," I went on, slumping my shoulders slightly, "He would have figured it out. But still, I wish-"

"You would have waited?" Curtis finished.

"I wish I would have waited," I whispered, looking out of the pouring rain.

But I didn't.

I didn't wait, and now I was going to have to pay the price. I ran my fingers through my hair, leaning my head against the headrest and sighing deep, hard.

"You ready to go back?" Curtis asked after returning from dumping our empty trash into one of the trash cans. I nodded, biting my lip a little bit.

"I just wanna go to sleep," I said, yawning.

I took a shower when I got back to the hotel room. I turned it up to the hottest it could be, and let some of the stress roll off of me. Pregnant. Pregnant. I still found it hard to grasp reality.

I was going to have a baby. I was going to be a mother. No matter how many different ways I said it, it didn't make it any less scary. Scary didn't even come close to what I was feeling.

Alarming.
Terrifying.
Petrifying.

When I got out of the shower, I dropped the towel and stood in front of the mirror, staring at my stomach. Staring. The more I looked at it, the more I could see the little bump that was already beginning to form.

I shoved my clothes on, not wanting to look at it any longer. I didn't think I could stand to look at it any longer. I crawled into bed and fell into a hard, restless sleep.

An interesting story. Thanks for sharing