Chapter Two

Trig

It takes a little talking but I get Miss Goth Badass to get into my truck. She holds onto her backpack like it’s a life preserver and she’s floating in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle. I pull the truck back onto the highway.

When I told her that I didn’t want Wes and Jane to take her in, I was only telling part of the truth. That’s what I said at first, but when Wes showed me her picture, I changed my mind. The picture was attached to the file the agency sent. Maggie looked so small and lost, I couldn’t help feel bad for her.

“Where are you heading?”

She flinches, keeping her gaze dead ahead. “Las Vegas.”

“Great. That sounds like a good place for a teenager.”

The sarcasm has no effect and she keeps her eyes straight ahead.

“I’ll be nineteen soon.”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

She shoots me a sour look. “And I care why?”

“I might know a thing or two.”

“Great. How far can you take me?”

“I’ll take you all the way.”

She jerks to face me, her expression stricken.

“To Las Vegas,” I add, frowning.

Her alarm fades but she keeps her gaze on me. I can feel it and I’m sure she’s trying to size me up. She’s trying to assure herself that she’s a good judge of character and can tell if someone’s going to treat her well or not. Who knows what she’s experienced in the other foster homes. Wes and Jane sure don’t. All they know is that she’s been to a bunch of different places.

Her mother taught at a bunch of ritzy, east-coast schools. A professor.

I’m told her mother came all the way from Ireland. When her mom died, Maggie was left with nobody. Wes explained all this when he came to the garage. “We want to give her something she hasn’t had since her mother died. A loving family. And a chance to graduate from high school.”

Neither Wes or Jane can stop talking about how smart she is. Straight A’s.

Maggie has them both snowed, but not me. There’s a reason I’ll never be a foster parent. I’m cynical as hell. Plus, I’ll never marry. I don’t even want a steady girl-friend, much less a wife. Steady sex? Yes. Commitment. Hell no.

What Wes and Jane have is cool, for them. It just wouldn’t work for me. The boys are all right. They’re good kids and I’m sure they’ll turn out fine. If things go as planned they will soon leave the foster system… Wes and Jane want to adopt all four of them.

This girl, though, is a bundle of problems and looks like she wouldn’t think twice about burning my brother’s house to the ground. Maybe that’s a little harsh, but I’m sure she’s trouble and they’re too tender-hearted to do anything about it.

Me, I’m not tender-hearted. Not at all. I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen when my parents were killed by a drunk driver. My twelve-year old sister was in the back seat and died too. I was left alive, barely. Wes never left my side for the two weeks I lay in a hospital bed. Our family went from five to just Wes and me.

I dropped out of school and took over my father’s garage and did my best to help Wes. He’s older than me but he was even more messed-up by my parent’s death than I was. Despite it all he finished college. It took him five years but he did it, graduating with a degree in Accounting. In his final year, he met Jane. She helped him move on from the loss of our parents.

After years of trying to have their own baby Wes and Jane decided to be foster parents. It’s been cool to be part of that. Michael came first, then Thomas and finally Seth and Jimmy. They arrived scared, terrified really, clutching little grocery sacks with all their worldly belongings.

Those boys had rough starts, but their luck turned around the day they got taken in by my sister-in-law. Jane’s funny, a great cook, with a big heart. She’s the only person who calls me by my given name, Tristan. She’s too trusting and naïve, but that just makes me want to protect her, which is why I’m not going to allow this little trouble-maker to fuck things up for her and Wes.

Jane wouldn’t approve of my methods, but that’s okay. She’ll never know what I’ve done. When she asked me to look into the best phone for Maggie, I immediately said, Happy to do it. I didn’t really give a shit what phone Maggie had, so long as I could track it, and so long as Maggie couldn’t deactivate the tracking. I knew Maggie was getting ready to leave. I just didn’t know when. Stealth GPS Tracking. Problem solved.

She wants to go to Vegas? They’d love her there. Little under-aged smart ass. No fucking way. She’s not breaking both Jane’s and Wes’s heart. I just need to make her see things my way.

“Is this the first time you’ve bailed on a foster family,” I ask, keeping my tone light.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m not bailing.”

“You think you can handle it out there on your own?”

I wait for an answer but she’s got her arms folded over her chest, looking like a five-year-old with an attitude.

“You seem pretty street-wise, but it can’t be easy. What do you weigh, a hundred pounds? You think you can make it by yourself?”

“My mom died when I was thirteen, and I’ve been in foster care ever since, but just because I had foster parents doesn’t mean I wasn’t on my own. So, yes. Dr. Phil. I can make it just fine on my own. If you’re going to lecture me all the way to Vegas, I’m going to have to bail on you, the first chance I get.”

I tighten my grip on the steering wheel. Her little sneer makes my blood boil. I bet everyone she meets feels sorry for her. Pity doesn’t help anyone. Mercy doesn’t either.

What helps? Consequences.

I’m going to take her inside my home and give her a hint of what sort of evil lurks out there, just waiting for clueless little girls like her. I’ll scare the hell out of her. She’ll hate me for it, but if it keeps her safe it will be worth the hard feelings.

Totally.

“You plan on letting Jane and Wes you’re doing all right?”

She shrugs.

“Well? Aren’t you at least going to let them know you’re okay.”

“Want me to shoot them a text? Tell them my Uncle Trig is taking me to Vegas?”

I grit my teeth. Clenching my jaw brings a flash of pain that shoots across my skull. Ever since the accident, I’ve had to avoid getting pissed off and tensing my jaw or neck. I let out a deep breath and tilt my head from side to side. The release is gradual and slowly the discomfort ebbs.

“You won’t be able to send a text from here. It’s too remote. I wasn’t suggesting anything, just curious if you care that people would worry about you.”

“I don’t.”

“Right. I’m getting the picture.” I grip the steering wheel with a little more force than I need. “Did you know Jane cried when she found out you were coming to live with them?”

Something behind her eyes shifts and I can tell she has no idea how strongly Jane feels about her. How Jane’s determined to fix Maggie’s life. I wait for the hard look to return to Maggie’s eyes, but it doesn’t. She’s uncertain, second guessing all her great ideas.

“Don’t you want to finish school? Be a professor like your mom?”

She scoffs. “So I can live on ramen noodles anytime the car needs a repair? No thanks.”

Nodding to the dirt road up ahead, I lift my foot from the gas. “That’s my place up ahead. I need to grab a few things.”

She shrugs. “Whatever.”

Whatever… I hate it when kids say that. But I shake it off. The irritation isn’t worth the stab of pain to my skull. Besides, I know how to instruct her on manners. ‘Whatever’ is going to be the first thing she loses from her vocabulary.