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Page 4


  I push open the glass door and hear a bell announcing me. I glance around and notice it isn’t a diner at all—it’s an ice cream parlor. In a row, right by the register, are little windows showing the ice cream they have. I scan the options and decide on some classic chocolate.

  “How many scoops?” the woman behind the counter chirps.

  “Two will be fine.” She dishes out two hefty scoops and puts them into a bowl. I walk to the register and dig the only money I have from my pocket. Three crumbled dollar bills.

  I try to hand them to her, but she doesn’t take them. “No need. He paid for you.” She smiles, then walks to the back.

  I look to my side. “Seriously.” I roll my eyes.

  “I told you we’d be in touch.” Six grins.

  I shake my head and grab the bowl from the counter, then walk to a corner booth. I plop onto the red vinyl bench and push the ice cream around with my spoon. Six slides in across from me and just smiles his devilish smile.

  “What do you want, Silas?” I say his real name the way he said mine. I want him to know I know about him too. At least a little bit.

  “I already told you.” He stretches his arms across the back of the booth. “I want your help. First things first.” He fishes inside his pants pocket, then pulls out a phone and slaps it on the table. “You’ll need this.”

  I look at him with a raised brow.

  “I need to be able to get in touch with you at all times. I know you don’t have a phone, so now you do.”

  “Okay… Care to tell me more? What exactly do you need ‘help’ with?”

  “You’ve been placed with shitty people, right?” he asks.

  I nod. I don’t see what that has to do with anything, but I’ll entertain his questions this one time.

  “Well, I have too. Before the McKinneys took me in as their newest project, I was with the scum of this fucking earth. I’m sure, even though you’re new around here, you’ve heard of the Stones.”

  “Actually, I haven’t. I fly under the radar. Participating in pointless drama and gossip does nothing but put me in a light I don’t want to be in.”

  He chuckles. “And that’s exactly why you’re perfect.”

  “Perfect for what?” I ask.

  “The Stones are fucked-up people. I have some shit on them—that’s why they sent me back to my caseworker.” He shakes his head. “I plan to bring them down. Ruin their whole operation of drugs and… other things. But if they see me coming, it won’t be pretty. I need someone to distract them while I get one last thing, and you’re the perfect distraction.” He grins.

  “So, what exactly do I have to do? What kind of distraction are we talking, and when?”

  “I’m still planning, but you just need to be you. King loves blondes, if you catch my drift.” He winks.

  “You want me to fuck this dude?” I yell. “You’re delusional. Fuck you, Six. It isn’t happening.” I stab my spoon into my half-melted ice cream and stand.

  He grabs my wrist, but I jerk my arm free and slap him across the face. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again. Find someone else because I’m not helping you, you sick fucking creep.”

  I hurry to the door, thankful no one else is here to see what just happened. I pull it open in a rush, letting the bell above it hit a little too hard.

  “I know who your mom is. The one who birthed you, not the scum you’ve been with before. She’s closer than you think!” Six calls behind me.

  I stop and turn to him. He’s holding his cheek and slithering toward me slowly, like the snake he is.

  “Fuck you. You don’t know shit about me,” I whisper.

  “Oh, but I do. Help me, and I’ll help you. And I never said you had to fuck the old pig. Just be friendly. I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” He slips the phone I left on the table into my hand. “Help me, Sonni.”

  The grin on his face is gone, and the seriousness of his gaze has me questioning if I should trust him, or at least use him.

  I roll everything he’s saying around my head. I’ve always had questions. I mean, I’m sure every foster kid does. Why wasn’t I good enough to keep? Does she think about me? Do I look like her? So many questions. Questions I won’t get answered without Six’s help.

  I shake my head. “Fine,” I say, defeated. “I’ll help.”

  “Great. I’ll text you, sugar.” His cocky grin comes back to life.

  I roll my eyes and walk out of the door.

  I decided to do more pointless walking when I left the parlor. I needed to clear my mind and think. Does Six really know who my mom is? I mean, why would he lie? I shake all the thoughts away and walk up the driveway to Safe Haven, then make my way inside.

  The sun is setting, and I’m sure everyone is eating dinner, but I’m not hungry. Instead of going to the common room, I walk to my room, thankful Alex isn’t here. I can’t deal with her right now.

  I fall onto my bed and slip the phone Six gave me from the back pocket of my shorts. I’ve never had a phone, never been able to afford one, but kids at school would sometimes let me play with theirs, before I was forced to quit, so I know the basics. The small green message icon at the bottom of the screen is showing there is already a message. I click it.

  SEXY SIX: You make it home, sugar?

  I roll my eyes.

  SONNI: Yes, and I don’t like how you saved your name. I’m thinking Sinister Six would work better. Or maybe Shitty Six. Hmm… The possibilities are endless.

  Three small dots pop up and dance at the bottom of the screen before another message comes in.

  SEXY SIX: I don’t see why you hate me.

  SONNI: Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the full-of-yourself douchebag attitude, or maybe it’s the entitlement you carry. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’re fucking blackmailing me.

  SEXY SIX: Look, what I have to do is a lot bigger than you. I read your file weeks before you even showed up. If I wanted people to know about you, I would have told them, but I haven’t. Believe it or not, I’m a nice guy.

  SONNI: Nice guy? *laughing emoji* Yeah… Ok…

  The three dots pop up again, then disappear. It happens over and over before another message finally comes in.

  SEXY SIX: Get some rest. I’ll see you soon.

  I don’t even reply. Instead, I go into my contacts and change his name to Suffocating Six. Yeah, that works because that’s exactly how I feel. Suffocated.

  I roll onto my stomach and scroll through the apps and games that are already installed. I click Spotify and go to the library. Sure enough, there is already a playlist started called SEXY SIX. I tap it, but there is only one song added. “She Hates Me” by Puddle of Mudd.

  I click it and let it play, then go through the suggestions of other songs and add more. “You’re So Last Summer” by Taking Back Sunday, “I Hate Everything About You” by Three Days Grace, “Bite My Tongue” by You Me At Six.

  I let all the songs play and look through everything else on the phone. Already there are dozens of pictures. What a self-centered, big-headed dick, I think to myself. All the pictures are of Six.

  I start deleting them one by one, but then I come to a picture of his face. His brown eyes stare at me from the screen, and his smirk sends tingles through my body. I don’t know why, but I keep that picture. It’s a shame he’s such an ass because he’s gorgeous.

  I stare at the picture longer than I should, but when my door opens, I hurry and shove the phone under my pillow, then turn and see Alex.

  “Um…” She raises her brow at me. “Are you okay?” She laughs.

  I nod vigorously. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

  She shakes her head. “Okay… I’m going out with Katie. Do you want to come?”

  I turn to my side and grab one of my books from my nightstand. “No, thanks. I have a date with Charleigh tonight.” I shake the book.

  “Well, have fun with that. See you later.” She grabs a coat from the back of the door, then walk
s out.

  “Jesus, Sonni,” I mumble to myself, opening my book. “Don’t let this prick get to you.” I scan the front page and flip until I hit chapter one.

  “Come on in, Sonni.” Dr. Keller smiles. She’s always smiling.

  I didn’t even have a chance to knock on the door before she opened it. It’s been a week. She said a few days, but that turned into a week. A week of doing nothing, a week of Six annoying me by texts, and a week of wallowing in self-pity.

  I walk into her office and sit on the couch like I have the previous times. Sure, talking about Mr. Barbie got me worked up, but at the same time, it felt good. Good to tell someone who believed me, good to have someone listen and not pry. Maybe if I just tell her everything, I’ll feel even better.

  “How are you today?” she asks with the same smile.

  I exhale a deep breath. “I met a boy.”

  Her eyes widen. “Oh?”

  I laugh. “Not that kind of boy. This boy, he’s a pain in my ass, and I don’t know how to get rid of him.”

  She nods. “Maybe just tell him.” She shrugs.

  “I have. The thing is…” I didn’t want to tell her I was being blackmailed. She would have to tell someone about that, right? I shake my head. “The thing is… I don’t think I want him to leave me alone.” And honestly, maybe I kind of believe that.

  She smiles. “So, you do like him, then?”

  I roll her question around in my head. Six is gorgeous, and I wouldn’t mind rolling around the sheets with him, but he’s also an ass. An ass who has my whole life in a fucking file that he’ll expose to everyone. That’s a risk I can’t take.

  “I guess so.” I shrug. I think it’s better to tell a few white lies rather than get someone in trouble. I’ve already been labeled a killer; I don’t need snitch to be added to that. Not here, when I’m trying to start new and no one knows me.

  “Well, what do you like about him?” She grins.

  I roll my eyes. This is definitely not a conversation I wanted to have. I don’t want to tell her his eyes stare into my soul, and when he touches me, I feel fire. The good kind of fire that goes straight to my core. And the way his lips curve into that smirk I hate makes me lose all sense of reality. When he says my name, I can feel myself getting lost. I can feel him dragging me deep beneath the depths of what’s right. Because I know being with him isn’t right at all.

  No, I don’t want to tell her any of that. It’s something I can barely admit to myself. I’m not sure why I even brought him up, but now, I’m over this conversation.

  “Can we talk about something else, please?” I beg.

  Another thing I don’t want to admit is that I actually like Dr. Keller. She has a certain air around her that puts me at ease. After my last session with her and talking about Mr. Barbie, I felt… lighter.

  “Of course!” she coos. “I’m all ears for whatever you want to talk about.”

  I nod. “Let’s talk about when I was eight.”

  She nods in response and crosses her legs. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  It was just like any other day. All the other kids and I were woken up with a cereal breakfast, then forced to shower in cold water. The orphanage or whatever you want to call it—I called it hell—didn’t have the best hot water heater. It was always going out or breaking, which meant cold showers.

  The caregivers there weren’t too great either. They ignored bruises or the cries they would hear in the night. Most of them were only there for a paycheck.

  Since I had been in the system my whole life, I knew the routine for days like that. Showers meant families were coming. Most kids jumped at the opportunity to “wow” a family, but not me. I was just focused on surviving.

  No matter how hard I tried to keep my head down and leave everyone alone, I always seemed to catch everyone’s attention, good and bad. I’m not sure if it was my blonde hair and blue eyes, or maybe the fact I always sat alone and never spoke, but everyone always noticed me. And being noticed in a place like that isn’t good.

  I mean, families rarely looked at kids over the age of three. It’s like they have it in their minds that once you hit a certain age, you’re ruined. Can’t teach an old dog new tricks, or however the saying goes, and that’s basically what we all were… old dogs with no new tricks. We were all sneaky, cautious, and untrusting. Years of being shown no love and being abused will do that to you. But that didn’t stop them from looking at me.

  Once everyone was showered and fed, we were herded into a room like cattle and forced to wait. I went to the same corner I always sat at and tried to ignore the hype. I never got picked. Sure, the interest was there, but I don’t think families liked my attitude.

  I carried a chip on my shoulder, or at least that’s what I heard numerous caseworkers I had say about me. “You need to get rid of that chip on your shoulder.” “Sonni, you should smile more.” “No one is going want you if you don’t act like a lady.” “Why don’t we put a bow in your hair?” I never responded when they would speak.

  They didn’t need to know that smiling and acting “like a lady,” all prim and proper, did nothing but get me jumped. And a bow? No, thank you. Mr. Barbie liked bows in my hair. Once I was away from him, I refused to ever wear one again.

  I pulled my knees to my chest and put my back to the door. If I was lucky, the family, or families, who showed up would just look right past me. But I didn’t get lucky.

  “Who is that?” I heard a woman ask.

  “Oh,” Clair, one of the caregivers, spoke. “That’s Sonni. She isn’t… right. Maybe you’d like to meet Sara? She’s exactly what you’re looking for.”

  “No,” the woman said with conviction. “I’d like to meet Sonni.”

  I heard her heels click across the floor and stop behind me. I squeezed my eyes tight and hoped if maybe I kept them shut, she’d just go away.

  “Sonni.” Her voice was softer, more caring.

  I opened my eyes and turned toward her. She was a pretty woman. Long brown hair, shiny hazel eyes, and nice, clean clothes.

  “I’m Natasha. How’re you?” She smiled.

  I looked past her and saw Clair shooting warning daggers at me with her eyes. I knew she wanted me to be polite and “act like a lady.” Beside her, Sara stood with a look of disgust.

  Sara was the oldest in our age group. She was ten and losing hope of finding a family. Unlike me, she wanted to find a family, wanted to be saved. But me? I knew there was no hope.

  The last thing I wanted to do was piss Sara off, so I did the only thing I could think to do. Maybe if I acted a fool, they would see Sara was a better choice and I could sleep under her protection instead of in fear.

  I looked Natasha right in her eyes and screamed as loud as I could. I clawed at my face and pulled my hair, hoping it would be enough to ward her off and show her how great Sara was, but of course, no such luck.

  Natasha jumped back startled with wide eyes. She looked to Clair for help, but Clair knew better. She didn’t say anything and didn’t try to stop my fake meltdown. Instead, she hooked her arm with Natasha’s and led her from the room.

  Natasha never came back, and Sara never got her chance. I knew Sara would see me as the problem. Blame everything that went wrong that day on me. I knew it and I was okay with it, but that never prepared me for that night.

  Dinner was nothing but leftover spaghetti, which was great because spaghetti alone was treat. Most of the time all we got was nasty TV dinners. Everyone ate, did the chores they were assigned, then went to their rooms.

  Each age group shared a room, or a few rooms, depending on how big the group was. My room was shared with five other kids. Three sets of bunk beds were set up along the walls, and the dressers that held our ratty, outdated hand-me-downs were tucked into every other free space.

  I was in a bottom bunk since I didn’t get to the place until a couple of months prior. All the top bunks that offered a shred of security were already taken. And wouldn’t you know
, Sara bunked above me.

  I never listened to her insults or tried to fight back when she would shove me. I always let it roll off me like nothing. That was the best way to do things in groups homes like this. Ignore the antagonizing jabs and keep a low profile, but that didn’t always work.

  It was just past lights-out. You could hear the babies crying down the hall and the caregivers trying to settle them and get them to sleep. The mattress I was forced to sleep on smelled like pee, and the air was cool.

  I was turned toward the wall hoping sleep would come soon so I could forget the day. I had my eyes squeezed shut and made sure my breaths weren’t too loud, but that didn’t fool Sara.

  A sharp pain on my back had me turning around. Sara stood with her arms holding on to the top bunk’s bars and one foot on the ground while the other sent sharp kicks into my back.

  “You have ruined everything since you got here!” she whisper-screamed. “That was supposed to be my family, and you ruined it! You scared her away!”

  I didn’t say anything because I knew it would do no good. Instead, I took the kicks and held back my tears. She could hit me all she wanted, but she wouldn’t see me cry.

  The next day when the caregivers asked why I wouldn’t eat and where the purple marks all over me came from, I didn’t answer them. I knew if I snitched, it would just happen again. So, I took a vow of silence and didn’t break it until I was finally moved out of there when I was twelve.

  I made sure to stay focused only on myself and to never let anyone in. I never tried to help anyone either. Everything had a funny way of blowing up in my face, and I was tired of it. Tired of everything.

  I would no longer be known as the quiet girl who took everyone’s shit. From that point on, I would be the me I wanted to be. Confident, uncaring, and cold-hearted.