Page 54 of A Foster Fling
“Oh, child,” she shakes her head and wipes my release off her face with a towel. “Do I not keep you satisfied? Safe? Healthy? Am I not a wonderful mother to you?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts,” she cuts me off with a growl. Her strength pumps out of her as her anger grows, leaving the air around us potent with her aura. “Stop being a brat.”
Her words silence me to the core, like a hard slap to the face, and I can’t help but to gasp through the pain. I love Pearl, more than just my mother. I love her like a lover.
It’s clear to me, as I stand here in front of her, my love pouring out in jealous waves, and her anger gripping my heart, she doesn’t love me like that at all. I don’t even know if she loves me like a daughter. Maybe she’s getting something from me she can’t get anywhere else and that’s why I’m locked up in here.
I’m a prisoner; not her daughter.
“What is that look, Zel?” The red anger coating her cheeks slowly fades, and she tries to give me a coy look. But it’s too late. I’ve figured her out.
“You can leave now.” I turn and head toward my tiny bathroom here in my cell. “I would like to be alone.”
“I always thought I lucked out by not having a moody teenager, but now I see it’s just hitting you later.”
Her words are like sharpened swords sinking into the soft flesh of my stomach, slowly bleeding me out. I shut the wooden door, locking myself in the small room, and hoping she’s gone by the time I come out.
“Make sure you lock this door,” she calls out just before I hear the loud boom of the tower door.
Maybe I won’t lock it, maybe someone will get past her wards and come to take me away. Whatever essence I have coursing through my blood is also a curse. It seems the one thing my foster mother is protecting is also what she’s keeping me here for.
I’ve been stupid.
She was never making love to me. She was siphoning my energy for herself. I could see it each time she arrived in the tired bags under her eyes, to the glowing youthful shine when she leaves. All the evidence was there for me to gather, and yet I was blinded by my feelings.
After a few minutes, I leave the washroom and head down the large stone staircase to the iron door. Instead of locking it, I throw it open and let the sun shine down on top of my head as I step outside. My bare feet curl into the cool blades of grass, and I take in a deep breath, letting the scent of wildflowers absorb into my senses.
I hold out my arms and let my skin soak up the sunlight, then spin on the spot. I giggle through the motion, continuing until my feet slip from under me, and I land to the ground as the sky twirls overhead.
The tall grass cushions my back as I lie down to look up at the sky. I stay there until I hear the familiar sounds of horse hooves in the distance. I’m on my feet quickly as my heart spears up into my throat. As angry as I am with Pearl, I still know the dangers of being out here in the open, and the allure my energy could have on men.
I reach my doorway just as that same man comes through the thicket, his regal pose on the horse sending my heart into overdrive. He’s so handsome.
He’s startled to see me standing here. I can see it in his features as his eyes roam over me. My fingers grip into the stone surrounding the doorway, the tips becoming numb the longer I hold my grip.
His horse slows as he hauls on the reins, his actions becoming tentative as if he’s approaching a feral animal. And maybe he is. For years, I’ve only ever interacted with Pearl. No other person has come near this space, or close enough to it for me to notice. Until him.
Maybe this is meant to be?
He stops when he’s about fifty feet in front of me, enough of a distance that if he were to charge, I could have the door shut and bolted before he even touched it.
“What’s your name?” he calls out.
“What’s yours?” I counter.
His smile brightens his entire face, sending a wave of shock through me.
“Abbe Heinz,” he says.
“Why do you keep riding by here, Abbe?”
“It’s the easiest route to town,” he states as his horse shimmies on the spot, eager to keep moving. “Is this private property?”
He doesn’t seem dangerous, and he has no idea what this tower represents or why I’m here. At least it doesn’t look that way.
“No,” I shake my head, not wanting to chase him away. I enjoy seeing him come by the tower. “What’s your horse’s name?”