Chapter 11

Animal

The Benfell Home made a big deal about Christmas. Sister Mary was pretty frigging Catholic, so it made sense.

It pissed me off. To see the decorations taped to the cement brick walls was insulting. I knew the adults were trying—really they were. But the cardboard cheery Santa had a Sharpie dick drawn on him within five minutes.

Merck ramped up his visits, and I took ribbing about it from the other kids and some of the childcare workers.

I didn’t let it affect me. He was getting more and more agitated lately, and finally, when we were driving back from a movie, I asked him what the hell was going on.

He looked at me a few times before he let himself be truthful.

“You’re young, but I feel like I need someone to know this. You’re who I’ve got.”

“Hit me with it. Takes a lot to surprise me.” I wiggled my eyebrows.

Merck sighed. “Remember when I told you about my wife? About the affair? Well, things are escalating. This woman—the one I’m in love with? Well, she’s married, too, but her husband abuses her. Like rough stuff.”

“So, what are you going to do about it?” It was a tricky piece of information. I respected Merck, but he wasn’t perfect. I didn’t think all the cheating would end well. Lies catch up. Seemed that way, which is why I tried to avoid them whenever I could.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s wrong, but I feel like, I mean—I could protect her. She’s got a son—almost your age, maybe a few years younger. I know that bastard hits him, too. He’s one of those that makes sure the clothes cover what he’s done—no bruises peeking out.”

I nodded because I knew what he was talking about. No one ever hit me twice because I walked right out the goddamn door if they did, but I knew it happened to others. “Sounds like the wife should report him to, well—you. I mean, does she want to be with you?”

Merck bobbed his head from one shoulder to the other while he thought. “Yeah. I mean, I’m sure a guy that’s nice to her is a big change, but I’m married.”

“And you shouldn’t be. You deserve to be out of that house. If you want to leave, just leave. Worse things have happened. And if they take your badge, you can do security or something.” I gave him a hard look.

“She’s had a child. A girl. I think it could be mine.”

I whistled. “Shit.”

“No kidding. Kinsey will lose her mind. She’s been trying to get pregnant for so long. But that’s my kid, you know? I don’t want the baby injured. Or her. Or her son.”

“Now what?” I watched as the Christmas lights on the trees in town blurred from the speed of the car.

“I want to get her and her kids out. And get you in the same house. As far as I’m concerned, you’re my kid, too.” Merck looked at me like he was afraid of what he’d said.

“You’re going to have to deal with your missus first. Get past the first hurdle, then you can act on everything else.” I turned my head.

My hope had learned not to act up in moments like this. I kept it firmly leashed. Merck had shit to deal with. He had a merry picture in his head, like T had of her mom when she’d been out of her mind on painkillers.

As if thinking about her brought her fate to mine, Merck got a call on his cell.

I could only hear his side of the call, and he looked at me enough times during the exchange that I knew it had something to do with me.

He agreed to help, and because he turned the cruiser in the opposite direction of the home, I knew I was coming with him.

He answered the question I hadn’t asked, “That’s a call from T’s foster mom. They’re trying to put her in a straight jacket right now. You cool to come with?”

I sat on my one shaking hand. With every action there’s an equal and opposite reaction. T had been attacked, and she hadn’t responded yet. I had a feeling tonight was her reaction.

T

I knew I was surrounded. The nightgown was a trap. It looked soft, but after I put it on, I realized my clothes were gone.

The new fake mom had understanding eyes. “Listen, I just want you to get some rest. I’ve been told that you have trouble staying in one place. I get it. It’s hard to believe that this place is a safe one, but it is. Which is why we do have to keep the windows and doors locked.”

I’d told her I needed a window cracked open. I probably could have done that exact action and she wouldn’t have known, but the other little girl in my room had asthma. I was concerned for her with the cold air. Obviously, I was used to it.

I felt like an explosion was simmering in my chest when the woman closed and locked the window. She apologized more than a few times.

But she wasn’t just closing a window. She was predicting my future. As she tried to close the bedroom door, I bolted.

I couldn’t do it. It was a cage. It was an expectation of acceptance that I couldn’t allow. I saw my mother’s face as I ran down the hallway. The foster person yelled my given name. My name that I only liked to hear from my mom.

“Talon!”

I forgot the layout and ran into the den where there was no escape. No door. The woman blocked the door that I had run through.

“Sweetheart, listen. It’s late. Let’s go have some hot cocoa and relax.”

It was the worst thing to say. She’d never know that in order to love my mother I had to say no. I had to do without. Even without a roof over my head. Even without a meal in my belly. I would love my mother even if it hurt me.

The things I was being offered were too tempting. I felt the tears marching up to my eyes. And those would call to this woman in front of me. Compassion came off of her in waves. Understanding. Acceptance.

She was the most dangerous thing my needy heart had ever felt.

I took to the closest window and opened it. I was crawling away from this. From her. To the cold, where I belonged. I would be loyal even if it hurt. It was how I was made. And I wasn’t changing.