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Authors: Jaime Samms

The Foster Family (14 page)

BOOK: The Foster Family
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“Guess not.” I frowned at Malcolm. “What’s going on?”

His expression was so neutral I knew there was something under there he didn’t want Lissa to see.

“A moment.” He smiled stiffly at my boss and took me by the elbow. “Kerry.”

Tugging free, I offered Lissa a reassuring smile and followed him, willingly, to the far end of the perennial displays. “What?” Crossing my arms to better protect the delicate cage my heart was fluttering around in, I squared off to face him.

He didn’t seem intimidated, and I resisted the temptation to slouch and push my glasses up my nose. His face remained a little fuzzy, but I could live with that.

“You understand the concept of cause and effect?”

“Of course.”

“Cause: you swear at me. Effect:” His nostrils flared and his eyes sparked.

I waited, too nervous to drop my arms now. I had to hang on to something, and I needed something hanging on to me. I was used to doing for myself.

“Rules are not broken without consequence,” Malcolm said. “I was very explicit about that one, was I not?”

I nodded.

“Kerry?”

“Yes.”

Still, he waited, watched, lips a firm line.

“Yes, I understand. I broke your rule about swearing.”

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

“Easy?”

His face changed very little, but still, frustration, anger, and forced calm all chased paths through his expression, clear even though my eyesight made him blurry around the edges.

“You are not going to make this easy, are you,
boy
.”

“I’m not trying to be difficult.”

He very nearly rolled his eyes at me.

“Sir?”

He let out a breath, and I only just realized he’d been holding it. Moving slowly, he reached over and pushed my glasses up my nose, clearing my view of his face and revealing a mixture of emotion in his expression. “We’ll deal with the swearing when we get home. For now, I want to know what you need to work on our yard.”

“I told you already. Charlie has more than enough to do what needs doing. I don’t need tools or a shed.” I needed a home, but that was a ridiculous request. And also something I needed to earn on my own, and if he realized it or not, hiring me to work his garden was helping me to do that.

Malcolm’s face tightened and I held out a hand.

“Maybe some gloves. I lost mine in the break-in.”

That got me a curt nod. “Gloves, then. Fine. Let’s go.”

I spent some time fondling my miffed cat as Lissa rang up our purchase. Miss Claire was pissed at me for leaving her alone with strangers who didn’t offer her treats or cuddle with her on demand.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I told her quietly, shielding her from Malcolm’s continuing cool demeanor. “It won’t be much longer, okay? We’ll find something. I promise.”

She purred at me, climbed the front of my hoodie, and nuzzled at my face.

“I know.” I nuzzled back, eyes closed, enjoying her tiny, furry body warmth.

Once we had paid for everything but the shed and Lissa had promised delivery of the plants after the shop closed, I reluctantly set her back on the counter.

“She needs a good brush.”

Lissa sneezed delicately and grimaced. “Don’t look at me, honey. She makes my eyes itch.”

“I know.” I ran a hand down Miss Claire’s back one more time. I promised Lissa I’d call and let her know if I was going back to her place that night.

“You’d better, Kerry. Or I’ll come down there and get you myself.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Malcolm slapped me across the back of my head.

I grinned at Lissa. “Thanks, babe.”

“Anytime. You know that.” She weighted those words down with a bucket load of her best I’m-not-kidding tone.

“I know that. Really I do.”

“Good. Now get going before your keeper blows a gasket or something.”

I half expected another slap, just for good measure, but Malcolm surprised me again. “You take good care of him,” he said to Lissa.

“Someone has to after all this time.”

“Liss—”

She spoke to Malcolm right through me. “He’s had enough people shitting on his parade. I won’t be one of them, and I won’t let you be, either.”

“Lissa!”

But Malcolm was nodding and agreeing with her. “Okay.” He turned to me. “Do you want to come back with me?”

“Yes!”

“We still have the swearing to address.”

“I know.”

“Oh, honey, if you can get him to clean up his potty mouth, I might actually give you a point or two.”

“Oh, this is awesome. Nice to see nobody’s going to ruin my parade.”

“Not ruining. Just keeping it PG,” Lissa said. “Now I have customers. Hang out here with your stash a minute and I’ll send Marcus out to get it.”

“I’ll go bring the car around. You’ll be okay here?” Malcolm asked.

“Sure.” I turned back to Miss Claire.

“Good.” He actually kissed my cheek, which was a bit of a shock because I thought I was in trouble, and tickled behind the cat’s ears. Maybe he noticed the confusion because he stopped. “What is it?”

“I thought I was in trouble.”

“You have some penance to do. That doesn’t change anything else. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

He turned at the door. “Cute cat.”

“Yeah.”

“She’d make a matched set with Georgie.” Then he was gone and I stared at the empty doorway, wondering what that even meant.

It didn’t clear my confusion any, but I was willing to go with it and see where it got me.

Alone with the newly purchased plants for all of thirty seconds, a voice behind me cut into my wonderings and shriveled any good feeling I had left.

“Well. I see you’ve found a new… what would you call him? Sugar daddy?”

“Andy?” Sweat broke out along my back as I turned. Why was I so nervous to see him?

A finger trailed over my shoulder and I tried to move away, but then his hand was on my waist, his body heat amplifying the already flowing sweat. I couldn’t step out of his sphere.

“What do you want?”

“Went by your place last night. Mark… Matt? Whatever his name is”—he dismissed my old roommate with a wave of his hand—“said you moved out.”

I shrugged out from under his touch and took a step away, but he followed, hot and close.

“Yeah. I don’t live there anymore,” I confirmed. “What do you want?”

He snickered, and his hand on the small of my back was strong, shoving me forward a few more steps until I was facing the wall and had to put my hands up to keep some space between me and it.

“Same as always,” he breathed on my neck. “Where you living now?”

“None of your business.”

“Come on.” The buttery tone to his voice used to turn me on. It curdled in my gut now. “Tell me so I can come over tonight.”

Not so long ago, that command would have made me hot and willing despite the twist it did to my insides. Weight and pressure pushed me against the wall, and I felt his cock hard against one globe of my ass. His strength, once a turn-on, now turned my stomach, knotted me up in uncertainty. It was brash and fake next to my memory of Malcolm’s voice and firm touch.

Andrew pushed his erection against me again, and understanding bloomed like a foul-smelling bud. It wasn’t about me, that arousal. It was about the fear radiating off my skin out my pours, making me shake. It was about him being powerful enough to make me feel that way.

“Get off, Andy.”

“Don’t be like that.” His hand curved around the back of my neck, forcing me to bow my head. Where I might have acquiesced to the power before, I strained against it now, and he grunted. “It has been a while, huh?” he asked, exerting more pressure. “A little rough will get us going again.”

“Get off.” Nothing was going to get him and me going again.

“Come on, baby.”

A week ago, I would have done a lot to hear him call me that. Now it burned through my brain and left me feeling scorched and furious. I twisted around to face him. “I said get the fuck off!” The words scratched my throat raw as I pulled them from me to push out through gritted teeth. I pushed at his broad chest.

He grinned. “Now that’s more like it.” He bent, and I had the gut-churning thought he was going to try and kiss me, but he bypassed my mouth altogether and went for my collarbone, scraping his teeth hard against flesh and making me gasp.

“Fuck!” I shoved harder and he pinned me more strongly, back against the corrugated steel covering the wall. “Stop it!”

His knee slammed into my thighs, giving me a charley horse, and I gave just enough for him to pry it between my legs. He almost lifted me off the ground with the force with which he brought it up, and I grimaced.

His mouth did close over mine then, and for that moment, I couldn’t breathe.

Then he backed off just enough to grin again. “I like you like this, Grey. You finally growing a pair?” His grin curled into ugly. “Tell me where to find you tonight so I can get you under me. Good God, I want to spread you open right here.”

I shook my head. “No. No more.”

“Don’t be a jerk. Tell me.”

“Leave me alone.”

“You mad ’cause of that dance thing, baby?”

“I am not your baby.” I glared at him. “I’m nothing to you.”

The grin was no longer a grin. Or amused. It was a flat, emotionless sneer, and it sent a chill right through me. “You’re an easy fuck, Grey. And you like it that way. Where the fuck do you live?” He shook me enough to bang my head against the wall. “Tell me.”

“Leave. Me. Alone.” Each word was an effort. He was bigger, stronger, and there was no chance I’d get him off me unless he chose to let me go. The shaking had knocked my glasses almost off and his face was a blur. Odd because he was close enough I should have been able to see him even without them.

“Oh, yeah.” He gave a hard shove. “Go soft on me now, you pussy. Fuck that. I know you’ll be back, because you love a dick up your ass.” He took a step back and cupped his bulge. “You want this, and you fucking know it, so stop being a cunt and tell me where you live.”

I straightened, prepared to shove past him and get out of there, but he grabbed my wrist as I tried to pass and hauled me against him.

I jolted off-balance. My glasses slipped and fell, and there was a crunch as he shifted his weight. “You won’t need them when I shove your face in the pillow anyway,” he whispered into my ear.

“Not going to happen.”

His grip tightened and a stabbing, twisting pain knifed up my arm, wrist to elbow. I shrank down, shoulder in his side to ease the agony.

“What you think,” he snarled. “I’ll see you around. You know you’ll do it.”

I shook my head. “Not in your fucking glitteriest fairy-tale dreams, you freaky closet case.” I yanked free and almost got by before he hit me.

I’d never really considered how lucky I’d been to get through the foster system without getting hit. You heard horror stories, but I didn’t have anything worse to tell than a few times getting left with a suitcase and a knapsack full of schoolbooks on the group home porch.

A fist to the side of the face hurt like a fucking son of a bitch, and I staggered against the wall. I threw up an arm to prevent another blow, but all I got was a wad of spittle striking my cheek and dribbling down my neck and a “Fuck you,” and he was gone.

At the door he turned to look at me. “You’ll change your mind about this, Grey,” he promised me. “And when you do, I’ll be happy to fuck you until you cry like a little girl before I share you out.” He pointed a finger. “Until then, you stay the fuck away from me.”

I threw a few more curses at him and he laughed. “Don’t call me, Grey.” His snicker was frighteningly cold. “Just watch for me. I’ll be around.”

He stomped off, and I wanted to sink to the ground and cry like a little girl right then. I didn’t, though. I squinted until I found my bent glasses frames. Both lenses were shattered and the frames were useless, twisted out of shape by the heel of his boot.

As I stood there staring at them, Lissa returned from one of the other greenhouses. “Did someone come in here? I thought I saw another car…. Kerry?”

I shook my head and dropped my hand to hide the ruined frames.

“What happened to your face?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled, but obviously she didn’t buy it, and a moment later, she was tugging the collar of my shirt back to stare at my collarbone where Andrew had bitten me.

“Are those… teeth marks? Kerry, did Malcolm—”

“No!” I glared up at her. “I told you he’s not like that.”

“Who was in here?”

“Andy.”

“He hit you?” She gently touched my face and quickly pulled her hand back when I sucked in a breath. “Oh honey—”

“Oh for fuck sake, don’t do that.”

“He hit you!”

“Yeah. I called him a faggot and he punched me in the face.” I pulled out of her reach. “Stop touching. It fucking hurts.”

“What hurts?” Malcolm’s deep voice cut through me, and I jumped.

Lissa put a hand on my wrist, but I yanked that away too. It was almost as tender as my face.

“What happened to you?” Malcolm hurried to my side. He gripped my chin and turned my face to the light. “What happened?”

“His ex,” Lissa spat.

“He is not my ex.” I jerked my head to free myself, but Malcolm held on tight. Gently, but tightly.

“He’s about to have a restraining order slapped on his ass,” Malcolm growled, digging his phone out of his pocket.

“No, please.” I gripped his wrist. “Just leave it.”

“No chance.” He dialed and reported an assault, and I sank back in the dirt on my ass as Lissa snarled and spit, called Marcus to make sure he was good to cover the shop, and decided she was going to the hospital with me.

“I don’t need a fucki—” I glanced up at Malcolm who was staring intently at me. A blush crept into my aching face and I hung my head. “I’m sorry.”

“You do need a fucking hospital,” he whispered, and joined me in the dirt. He wrapped a careful arm over my shoulders and settled back to wait.

It felt good to have him there. It felt good to have them both there caring what happened to me, and it was that more than the fear Andrew had inspired or the pain that brought on the tears.

BOOK: The Foster Family
14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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