Page 138 of A Foster Fling
Blurb
Safe. Protected. Loved.
Three things I've wanted all my life and never had.
Since my mom went to prison and my dad passed away I've been alone. Lost to the system and been shunted from home to home.
No one wanted me.
No one cared.
Until I arrived on his doorstep with nothing more than a backpack of my belongings and the clothes on my back...
Welcomed in with warm arms and loving smiles, I felt like my hopes and dreams of a family had been answered.
But not everything was right with the picture perfect family.
Have I finally a safe haven, or will my life be thrown into turmoil once more?
Prologue
When I picked up my latest foster daughter from the social services office, I found a young woman who was little more than a shell veiled with defiance. It called to my protective urges, and I knew I had to take her. The report I was given when they told me they had another foster child for me detailed a troubled past, the reason she was thrown into the system, along with the history of previous foster parents she’d had.
It’s a game of chance when someone enters the system, whether they’ll end up in a loving, nurturing home, or with someone who does it for the paycheck. I won’t deny that the money isn’t a nice bonus, but it’s more than that.
Ten years ago my wife passed away suddenly from a heart attack, taking with her our unborn child and leaving me with my young son and a half-empty heart. I had a lot of love and care to give, so I applied to become a carer for the unwanted and lost children who needed a safe harbor to reside in.
What I didn’t expect was how deeply I would come to care for her, or how wrongly I would feel. There are boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, and all I want is to hurtle straight over them to the other side.
I’m supposed to be the one offering her safety, comfort, and the love of a surrogate parent, but all I want to do is take her in ways I shouldn’t even consider. That I shouldn’t be dreaming about.
The quiet, reserved girl is calling out to the darker side of me, creating a storm in the harbor I’ve spent years creating, threatening to destroy it. The darkness of her eyes, contrasting with her honey-colored hair and fair skin, made her far more appealing than I had any right to find her.
All my life I’ve given everything in me to those I’ve taken care of, have loved. But when Robyn Wymer walked through the door to my home, with her shaking hand clutching mine, I had no idea what kind of storm was about to be unleashed, and what the lasting effects of that would be.
Chapter One
I’ve been living here for nearly two months now and I still don’t feel like I’m able to settle. My new foster dad—Troy—seems to be trying hard to convey safety and comfort, but most of the time I’ve not really felt it. I’ve put it down to the stress of having to live somewhere new all over again. It’s not a small house by any means. It has two bedrooms, a living room, a large kitchen and dining room, and two bathrooms, but sometimes it still feels like I’m trapped instead of protected.
I know that's the last thing he wants me to feel, but no matter how hard I try to shake it, it’s still there, lurking in the back of my mind, this need to fight or take flight. I’m close to finishing high school. I’m in my final year and only have a few months left til I graduate. I’m so close to getting out of the system now as well that I can almost touch it. A few months more and I’ll be free, for the first time in my whole life.
A part of me wonders if that’s why I feel so trapped now, because freedom is almost within my grasp but doesn’t seem real somehow. Letting out a sigh, I attempt to refocus my attention on what our Classic Literature professor is trying to teach. I know all of this already, having learnt all of this in my previous school, and with finals so close, it’s all just a recap to keep it fresh in our minds. This is one of my favorite classes, so I know these books as well as I do myself.
Glancing up at the ceiling, I roll my eyes and then close them, instead of reading what’s in front of me, even though I desperately want to get lost in the pages of the world that’s at my fingertips. With another sigh, I gently lift the hardcover ofA Christmas Caroland sink into the tale of Victorian London and Ebenezer Scrooge.
I’m jolted from the reverie brought on by the carefully crafted tale I was reading by the end of class bell ringing. Sliding a bookmark between the pages, I realize that I’ve read more than half the story in the time I’ve been sitting here, and haven’t paid attention to a single word that was said by our professor.Oops.I shrug, because at least I used my time usefully, unlike the giggling girls three rows back who spend every class discussing Raiden—my foster brother—who also shares this class with me.
Everything seems to come so naturally to him. He’s an untameable force of nature that no one can control, not even his father. I see a lot of Troy in him, but Raiden lacks the quiet and subtle demeanor that I find so unnerving in Troy. Raiden and I coexist alongside each other, on somewhat friendly terms, but also knowing we’ll never be close. We have different interests: he’s loud, vocal, and alternative, while I’m quiet and kinda bookish, although I do enjoy his music, especially when he’s blasting it through the house. I often find myself tapping my foot or bobbing my head in time with the heavy drumming that’s interwoven with the guitars and vocals.
After school, I jog back home instead of taking the bus with everyone else. With earbuds in and my beat up mp3 player cranked up as high as it can go, I lose myself in the music. My heartbeat thumps in time with the beat, and my schoolbag bounces against my lower back in time with my footsteps. The heavy metal vibrating through my ears is invigorating, and I’m glad I asked Raiden to load some of his music to the device last weekend.
I make it home in good time, a little after the bus has already dropped Raiden off. It’s not a long journey, but he likes to hang out with his friends. I prefer solitude to socializing, but it depends on who’s around a lot of the time. I haven’t yet found a circle to surround myself with at school, but truthfully, I haven’t really been trying that hard.
Why build connections with people when in a few months I’ll never see any of them again?
Chapter Two
Robyn