Sugar for the Mobster (For the Mobster #1)

Chapter 1

Daisy Peonia Mary Parker

Silver River, South Mississippi, USA

Fourteen years ago

“Daisy Penis Piggy Parker.” I clenched my fists tightly, lowering my face as far as humanly possible.

My skin felt like it was burning and my vision was blurry, but I tried hard not to give them the satisfaction of seeing my tears.

“Daisy Penis Piggy Parker.” The chant continued, and I desperately needed to get out of there.

I tried to move forward, but several pairs of legs blocked my way.

I staggered to the right, but instead of finding worn sneakers and skinny jeans, I ran into the row of blue lockers. "Piggy Parker. Oink, oink, oink."

I bit the inside of my cheeks and closed my eyes, regretting all my choices.

After sixteen years of hiding behind baggy clothes, I had decided to spend that month's allowance on my first pair of skinny jeans.

All the girls were wearing skinny jeans, and I had seen a picture on Pinterest of the coolest girl ever.

I didn't know her name, I just knew that her red hair and edgy style caught my attention.

Especially the clothes she was wearing: Dr. Martens boots, black skinny jeans, a white sweater, and a black leather jacket.

I thought that if I dressed like that, maybe they wouldn't make fun of me so much.

Maybe I could be the cool girl at school for once.

I was brutally wrong.

I slowly lifted my head, my vision blurred by the tears threatening to spill, and saw my bullies.

Olivia was right in front of me, clapping and laughing while the others continued to imitate the sound of a pig.

Even in that situation, she was disgustingly perfect.

Her hair was black, straight, and long. Her skin was perfectly tanned.

Her eyes were almond-shaped and brown. She had a tall, athletic figure, with the perfect measurements of any cheer captain.

And she was always dressed according to the latest trends: a Chevron-patterned skirt, an owl pendant hanging from her chest, a pink tulle vest creating a beautiful, feminine layer over her white T-shirt, and white Converse on her feet. She was better than me at everything.

I swallowed a sob, and a wave of laughter shook me. “OMG! Now she really looks like a pig! She's pink and everything!” Olivia screeched, hugging Hunter, her longtime boyfriend and my number one bully.

Tears fell and sobs followed. Hunter started squealing like a pig, a scary sound that made me recoil, or maybe he was the scary thing.

He was over six feet tall, played Football, and had more muscle than brains.

And for some reason, he hated me. It wasn't just dislike, it wasn't just mockery, he really hated me.

Whenever he caught me alone, he would punch me in the ribs, and I knew that if I wasn't careful, one day the situation could escalate to something much worse. “Piggy Parker is crying, aww!” He taunted me, stepping closer and wrapping his hand around my arm.

I whimpered in pain as he squeezed my arm until it throbbed. “Look, she thought she could wear people's clothes!” he said, lifting my arm and shaking it. “Didn't you know you have to shop in the whale section?” My body collided abruptly with something cold.

Out of breath, between crying and shock, I felt the surface and realized I had been pushed against the lockers. I looked over my shoulder, back at the dozens of people filling the aisle, but no one seemed concerned. Quite the opposite. They were laughing loudly.

I let myself slide to the floor, curling up as tightly as I could. There were almost two years ahead of me, dealing with these people, and I didn't know how much I could take.

I was so tired...

“What the fuck, dude?!”

Hunter's shout electrocuted me.

I jumped up, flattening my back against the lockers, and watched what was happening. A very tall, black-haired guy was grabbing Hunter by the collar of his shirt.

I didn't know who he was. I had never seen him around before.

“You have to hit a girl to feel like a real man, huh?” The mysterious guy's tone was calm but firm. I felt my heart skip a beat.

“If you like bacon that much, she's all yours, dude!”

Bam! Before anyone could react, the mysterious guy slammed his fist into Hunter's jaw, knocking him backwards into the crowd.

Olivia and the other cheerleaders screamed, and the guys from the football team gathered in front of their friend, shielding him from the stranger who, in that moment, became, in my eyes, the most beautiful guy in the world.

Ignoring the exchange of insults between them and the shouting around me, I stared at the face of my nameless savior. His black hair was neither long nor short, it was perfect for running our fingers through. And in the middle of his tanned skin, a pair of blue eyes seemed to burn. On top of that,

he was dressed like any popular boy on Tumblr. He had Dr. Martens, black pants full of rips, an Arctic Monkeys T-shirt, and several chains decorating his wrists.

When one of the guys from the football team, Matthew, lunged at my savior, puffing out his chest and pressing his forehead against his in a provocation that I knew would end in more fighting, I felt something warm inside my chest. My nameless hero didn't take the bait.

He stood still as a statue, his gaze steady, holding Matthew's, and a smirk on his lips.

How could anyone be so... attractive?

Just as I thought Matthew was about to lay his hands on my hero, I noticed other students beginning to disperse, even though the bell hadn't rung yet.

I looked to my left and saw someone pushing their way through the crowd, drawing some alarmed glances and causing two younger girls to cower.

When I finally spotted a platinum blonde head, my heart leapt into my mouth and I was afraid that if I opened my lips, I would end up vomiting it.

Principal Christina Reynolds. Five foot two inches tall.

Fifty-three years old. Pastor Gregory Reynolds' wife.

She was the most beloved woman in the school, or so they said.

I, on the other hand, knew that Mrs. Reynolds reveled in flattery and had a soft spot for all children from wealthy families.

Olivia and Hunter, for example, were her model students.

Both on the honor roll, both excellent athletes.

.. both children of important people. Olivia was the youngest daughter of Nurse Mathilda and Dr. Robert Goodwin, owners of the town's clinic.

Hunter was the only son of Mayor Geoffrey Caldwell and his wife, Mrs. Allison Caldwell, a landscape architect who occasionally bought begonias from my mother's flower shop.

I knew perfectly well that neither Olivia nor Hunter got their good grades through mere effort.

It was common for a C+ to be miraculously converted into an A.

Or for them to unexpectedly know the exact subject matter of each test. Courtesy of Mrs. Reynolds.

That's why I couldn't help choking on my own saliva when I saw her stand between Matthew and my hero, and instead of scolding him, turn to Matthew and then to Hunter, who was now wiping blood from a cut on his lip, and point an accusing finger at them.

“Is this how you welcome Senator Jones' son? You should be ashamed of yourselves!” I froze, as did everyone else there, most likely.

Senator Jones... There was no one who didn't know who she was.

She'd moved to Silver River not long ago.

After a long career as a judge in Boston, she'd ventured into politics and secured an amazing position here in Mississippi.

I'd seen her countless times on television and remembered the widespread disbelief when she traded Jackson for a small town like ours.

Silver River had less than 12,000 inhabitants, everyone knew each other, everyone had attended the same school, and everyone went to the same churches and restaurants. It wasn't usual for us to have such important people around. Suddenly, I found it easy to understand Mrs. Reynolds' preference.

“Alright, go to your classrooms. Hunter and Matthew, come see me after class. You, your parents, and I need to have a serious talk."

With that, the crowd dispersed, but I couldn't move. I stood glued to the lockers, my palms sweating and my face burning, still staring at my savior. It was the first time a complete stranger had ever defended me.

“Lester, I'm so sorry. Both Hunter and Matthew are some of our most exemplary students. I don't know what got into them!”

Lester. So that was his name. My heart raced.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

“Don't worry, Mrs. Reynolds.” He replied in that voice of his, which sounded like the purr of a wild animal, and I realized that his blue eyes were identical to his mother's, even though everything else was different.

The first thing that struck you about Senator Jones, even on television, was a pair of blue eyes that could look like the kindest thing in the world one moment and a scene from a horror movie the next.

Lester's, however, although almond-shaped and vibrant like hers, did not convey that duality of emotions.

They were... calm. Gentle. And I couldn't tear my attention away from them.

“Do you need me to go to your office after class too?”

“Oh, no, no, dearie. Feel free! I’ll leave you to get acquainted with the school.” Mrs. Reynolds spoke as if she were a schoolgirl in front of her crush. She then rested an overly friendly hand on my hero’s arm and said goodbye with a caress that made the hairs on my body stand on end.

This woman has no boundaries.

As she walked away from Lester, a broad smile was plastered across her face, but that changed as soon as she saw me. Her expression hardened and her chin lifted as if she had encountered an insult to her very existence. “Miss Parker, don't you have class...?” she snapped.