The Foster Family, page 11
“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.
Neither of them said anything. Malcolm held me close like that, and Lissa stood guard and watch at the door. The officers that showed up were nice. They took notes, and when Malcolm thought to drop Officer Karl’s name, they assured us they would give him their report to add to what he already had, though I was sure the two incidents had nothing to do with one another. Everyone else seemed to think I was an idiot on that score, but I didn’t feel like arguing.
I protested riding in the ambulance and utterly refused to let Lissa go with me. She had a store to run, and customers, and there was a reason she and Marcus had hired me. It was too much for one person to run alone. Reluctantly, she stayed behind to help her husband, but only after extracting a promise from Malcolm that he would keep her informed.
There was no talking Malcolm out of coming, of course. He gave his car keys to Lissa so she could park his car, and she assured him she’d have his purchases delivered to his place that afternoon. All in all, everyone was efficient and helpful and kind, and I went through the whole thing in a daze.
I was surprised when Charlie met us at the hospital. I hadn’t heard or seen Malcolm call him, but there he was, hovering, doing every small thing Malcolm hinted needed doing until the hospital staff told them they should back off and let me get some rest.
“I just want to go home,” I muttered. And then realized what I had said and blushed.
What was home, anyway? A couch in Lissa’s great room? Or a spare room with a hook in the ceiling and a locked toy cabinet in the corner? I was an employee. A plaything.
“We’ll see about—”
I shook my head at Malcolm. “Never mind.” Rolling over, I put my back to them and let out a soft sigh, trying to keep it unheard. “I’m tired. Maybe I should stay and let them observe.” I didn’t need observation. I was fine. I didn’t have a concussion, hadn’t needed stitches, and the only reason the hospital was letting me use the bed at all was because Malcolm had done whatever he had to do to make sure they got paid.
“Kerry.”
“I’m tired,” I whispered. A jolt of heated pain spiked through my chest as I shrugged Charlie’s well-meaning hand off my shoulder. Maybe the nice nurses could look into that while I was here. Not that they’d find anything for that kind of hurt. “I want to sleep,” I told them.
After a few moments, I heard the shuffle of feet, and the door thumped closed. I could feel the aloneness in the room hovering. It would blanket me before long, weigh me down under a thick mat of chill and emptiness. It was an oddly comforting idea. I had slept under that blanket so many times growing up. It was familiar, and I closed my eyes and rolled to my back, waiting for the stillness, the quiet, to settle over my body.
Moments later, the door opened again. For all of about three heartbeats, I managed not to look. Finally, I opened my eyes to see Malcolm pulling a chair over and sitting down. He spared me one glance, then turned his attention to his cell and began scrolling through whatever he was looking at. He said nothing. I said nothing. Eventually, I got tired of watching him ignore me and closed my eyes again. My face ached. My wrist was sprained and swollen, and the bruises I had on my back from a week ago had been aggravated by Andrew’s visit today. I hurt. I was tired. Eventually, I went to sleep under that blanket that had settled over me. Only it wasn’t so cold or empty this time, and I thought that should have seemed weird and uncomfortable.
It really wasn’t.
I didn’t stay the night or anything. I had a nap, a nurse came in to check on me, and then a doctor came, signed some papers, and I was free to go home. Malcolm bundled me into his car, which someone had brought from the nursery, but instead of driving to his place, he took me to the police station.
“Why are we here?”
“I spoke to Officer Karl. He suggested we come in and file that restraining order now. The sooner we get things in the works, the sooner you’ll be protected.”
“What difference does it make?” I muttered, hunching down in my seat. “Not like he’ll follow it if he doesn’t want to. Rules don’t apply to Andrew.”
“Rules always apply,” Malcolm said darkly. “Stop arguing.”
I clamped my mouth shut. It wasn’t like he was going to listen to me anyway.
The paperwork was simple enough. I gave Malcolm’s address as my current address, told Officer Karl exactly what had happened. Or tried to. It was shocking how unclear most of it was in my mind. What I did say was apparently enough. He told Malcolm to have my attorney get in touch, at which I snorted and Malcolm nodded sagely.
“Of course.” Malcolm stood and held out a hand. “Thank you for your time, Officer.”
Karl glanced my way and nodded. “Anything you need.” He patted my shoulder awkwardly. “I watch my kid deal with this shit every day at school for being different. I’ll do what I can to make sure this doesn’t go any further.”
So Officer Karl had a kid. A “different” kid. Pulling my hoodie tight around myself, I nodded in his general direction. “Thanks.”
He patted my shoulder again. “You know where to find me, Kerry.” He didn’t even care I was acting like an ungrateful prick, so I tried my best to smile at him.
“Yeah.”
“Come on.” Malcolm bundled me out of there, and it was all I could do not to shake his hand off my shoulder. I didn’t need to be treated like Officer Karl’s special kid. I was a grown man. A sore, beat-up, aching grown man who wanted to curl into a ball and pretend the world actually would go away just because he wanted it to.
“Let’s get you home safe,” Malcolm said softly as he led me out to the car.
He didn’t take me straight to his house, though. He took me to Matt’s.
“What are we doing here?”
“Go in and get your things,” he ordered.
“What?”
“Go inside and pick up your things. Lissa called and told him to expect you.”
“I don’t have anywhere to put them.”
“Don’t be an idiot. Go.”
“But Lissa’s and Marcus’s house is really small and—”
“We’ll be stopping there too. Do you have an extra set of glasses?”
I shook my head. “What’s going on?”
Malcolm turned in his seat to face me. His expression was stern, but his eyes, with that almost-glowing blue ring around the irises, were soft. “Did you, or did you not say you wanted to go home?”
I shrank into my seat. “I was delirious, obviously. I don’t have a home.”
“Now you see?” Malcolm said, facing the wheel. “You’re being obtuse again. I’m just not sure if you’re doing it deliberately or not.”
“Huh?”
He let out the kind of sigh you might expect from a mother toward a really small, stubborn child. “You’ll be moving in with Charlie and me, obviously,” he said like it was already a done deal. “I’d dictate you would be quitting that job, as well—”
“No!”
“I know.” He let out another of those sighs. “Obviously. Lissa and Marcus need you. They’ve trained you and you love it, so I won’t. But I don’t like that he knows you work there. It’s a public-access place, and days at least before the restraining order goes through.”
“He wouldn’t follow it anyway,” I mumbled.
“And if he doesn’t, then he goes to jail, where he should be, as far as I am concerned.”
I shook my head. “He’s just a guy. Confused.”
Malcolm turned his head to stare at me. “Do you have any idea what your face looks like right now?”
I shook my head again, though the movement sent an ache through every muscle of my neck and shoulders.
“He’s just lucky Charlie or I didn’t walk in while he was still there. He lays one finger, one glimpse on you, ever again, and—”
“Please don’t.”
“Why the hell would you protect him?” he all but roared.
I flinched. “I don’t give a shit about him.” I reached over and laid a shaking hand over his fist sitting on the armrest between us.
Slowly, his hand relaxed as he loosened the fist, and eventually, he turned his hand over to clasp mine. “He can’t hurt me,” he assured me.
