Page 3 of Sinful Desires

Anger flared through me once again. My fingernails bit into the skin of my palms as I applied an immense amount of pressure on them. “So, in other words…you’re just a judgmental bitch?”

What happened at my old school shouldn’t have even entered the conversation. Just like every adult I met before her, she wasn’t willing to listen; she was sure quick to point fingers though. At my old school, some dude named Tanner had a serious issue with rejection; he couldn’t take no for an answer. When I turned down his advances, he responded by pressing me against the wall in the middle of the hallway and groped me. I kneed him in his baby maker and when he moved to clutch himself like the pussy he was, I grabbed him by the back of the neck, turned him so that it was him against the wall, and smashed his face into it.

Tanner ended up going to the office and told them that I attacked him because he turned me down. Nobody cared about my side of the story; they hadn’t even bothered to check the cameras, which were well within their rights. It made sense though—Tanner grew up there and his parents were involved with the school. They funded several of the events that took place, and money was more important to them than what was right.

“Aspen—”

“You’ve said enough,” I snapped. “I’ll wait outside for my ride.”

I didn’t bother letting her say another word before turning on my heels and stalking back out of her miniature office. When Kamryn smirked at me, I flipped her off and didn’t stop walking until the cool breeze of autumn nearing bit into my skin.

Relief engulfed me as I took in my solitude. Cars littered the parking lot, the nicer ones parked up front. Rolling my eyes, I dropped onto a red bench off to the side of the building.

Even the rich weren’t exempt from the horrors that went on within the school. From a young age, kids were groomed to become successful in any way possible. Sometimes that meant stealing from others, buying your way there, or having shitty parents dictate your future through blood, sweat, and tears.

It didn’t take long for Natalie’s Ford Explorer to come into view, coming to a halt beside the curb in front of me.

Might as well get this shit over with.

Bringing myself to my feet, I started toward the car and slipped inside. I dropped my bag on the floorboard, not caring to fasten my seatbelt.

Natalie’s hands rested on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white from the amount of pressure she was using. Neither one of us said anything for a while. The silence stretched over us uncomfortably as I thought of ways to break the tension.

“Have you ever heard of a group home?” She asked me, not even sparing a glance in my direction.

“I’m eighteen,” I reminded her.

She shrugged in response as if that held no weight whatsoever. “Sometimes they make exceptions. It depends on the situation.”

I was pretty sure that wasn’t how it worked. If I really wanted to, I could tell everyone to fuck off and go work at a strip club or something. As appealing as the idea was, I wasn’t sure how I felt about doing that at this time.

“Fine. Is that where I’m headed to next?”

She shrugged again. “I’m not sure, but I can assure you that it’s one of the last places you’ll want to be.”

I snorted for the millionth time today. “Then why the hell would I go there?”

Her head snapped over in my direction. “Your options are limited, Aspen. You can either do what Rebecca told you to do—which is act right, keep your head down, and try to succeed, or…jail is also an option. If you go to jail, that charge will be placed on your record, following you everywhere you go, for the rest of your life. There’s also the fact that they may just leave you on your ass now that you are eighteen and force you to fend for yourself. This was your last chance. I have no clue what they’re going to do.”

I bit down on my lower lip as I mulled over her words. She was right. Time was limited, and there were things I had planned. Things that didn’t involve me sitting in a jail cell or sleeping under a bridge somewhere.

I was so focused on my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed when she put the car in drive. My chest ached as my mind drifted to my sister. Avery had been my rock. From the time we were infants, we’d been in the adoption center together. They permitted us to share everything while we were there, not wanting to break us apart. Unfortunately, fate had other plans when she was adopted at the age of nine, and I wasn’t.

Eventually, I got too old, and no one was showing any interest in me, so I ended up in foster care. The first family I’d been placed with was abusive. The woman, Mary, made me do all the household chores and her husband was a lousy drunk who yelled a lot. They were only in it for the money, but eventually, they decided that the amount of money they were making off me wasn’t worth the amount they had to pay to take care of me. So, back into the system I went.

I slept at Rebecca’s place for a week before I was thrown headfirst into another household. Caroline and Thomas had just lost a baby, a little girl. They thought they could fill the void with another child but couldn’t afford to adopt. So, taking in a foster kid was the next best thing; they thought I’d be the answer to all their problems. But in the end, all I did was remind them of what they’d lost, and they decided it had been an impulse decision.

People continued to pass me off like I was some kind of disease, just because I either wasn’t what they expected, or because we didn’t share the same blood. By the time I entered my third family, I was thirteen. This was when life started getting to me, and I started acting out.

Every time I was put back into the system, I grew colder and colder. It was like a piece of me disappeared with every rejection. At fifteen, luck seemed to be on my side when the family I was placed with treated me like one of their own. They also had children of their own. The oldest was Myles, and he just so happened to be the same age as me. He had a little brother named Vince, and a little sister named Shasta. Myles intimidated me from the beginning. He was always sneaking around, wearing dark clothing, and staring at me with this intense look. He hung with a few other kids that unnerved me just as much.

My throat tightened as a memory resurfaced.

My fingers curled as they threaded through Shasta’s long caramel-colored hair as I braided it. She had an innocence that radiated off of her and she reminded me a lot of my own sister. My fraternal twin—who I might never see again.

Laughter sounded from the distance as the back door of the house opened and closed, followed by heavy footsteps. Shasta’s shoulders tensed, forcing my brows to bunch together. Was she scared of her own brother?

Myles and his two friends came into view. Ethan and Maverick were seventeen and contained the same darkness as their younger friend.