We walked inside, and right away, I felt myself relax. Kids of all ages were everywhere. I laughed as a little girl of about four ran up to me and threw her arms around my legs.
Sax laughed. “That’s Emilie.” He knelt down and smiled at her. “Hey, Emilie. How’s my favorite girl?” He glanced up at me and grinned. “Second favorite girl now, I guess.”
I giggled as little Emilie moved away from me, throwing herself into Sax’s arms.
“Saxth!” she squealed as he picked her up. I laughed as he kissed her on the cheek. He set her down on the floor, laughing as she ran off over to the other side of the room.
“Are they the same kids each week?” I asked.
“Mostly. You get a few that might only show up once a month. And then there are some who you’ll only see once or twice. Some think they are beyond help, others are grateful that places like this exist.”
I wished there had been something like this for me.
“Do all the kids learn music?”
“No. There are heaps of different activities. Some just like sitting down for a few hours and watching cartoons. Simple things like that can change their whole day.”
“This is amazing,” I mumbled. This place was really affecting me. I could really feel how much it meant to him, and knowing that he cared so much about these kids made me like him even more.
“Come over here,” he said, taking my hand. He led me over to the back of the room where three young girls were sitting. They looked about thirteen. All three of them smiled shyly at Sax.
“Hey girls, how’s it going?” he asked easily. He crouched down next to them and nodded at me. “This is my friend, Micah. She sings in a band. Micah, this is Lisa, Jem, and Renee.”
“Which band?” Renee asked me.
“Resurrection,” I replied, sitting down on the floor. I crossed my legs and smiled at her. “You like music?” I asked her.
She nodded.
“Who’s your favorite singer?”
“I like Adele.”
I grinned and began to sing “Rolling in the Deep.”
“Come on,” I encouraged them. Slowly, they began to sing along with me while Sax just sat there, his eyes on me. We sang a few more songs, and chatted about movies and music until they had to leave.
I really liked singing with you. Will you come visit us here again?” Renee asked softly. The other two girls nodded in agreement. I watched as they wandered off, a funny feeling in my stomach. They weren’t much younger than I was when I’d left home.
“What’s their story?” I said, turning back to Sax.
“Lisa and Renee are living in a group home. Jem has been in and out of foster care all her life. The kids here have had a hard life. I find coming here puts my own trivial problems into perspective.”
“It makes me realize how lucky I am,” I mumbled.
“I know. Some of the boys I work with have been in and out of care and juvie most of their lives. They’ve made some bad decisions, but they still have time to make things right, you know? And if I can be a part of that, then that’s great.”
I smiled. This guy couldn’t get any more perfect.
I was about to reply when I heard my name. My real name.
“Mikayla?”
I whirled around. There was no way.
I had to be imagining this.
But I wasn’t. He was older, dressed in faded jeans and a worn blue tee shirt. His dirty blond hair looked in need of a cut, but it was definitely him.
“Nate.” I swallowed hard as the room began to spin. I thought about denying it, pretending he was mistaken, but there was no point. The way his dark eyes were searching mine, he knew it was me.
“Wow, you two know each other?” Sax asked, surprise resonating in his voice.
I nodded. What the hell was I supposed to say here?
“Yeah. I haven’t seen her for years,” mumbled Nate. He glanced around the room, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looked nervous. Did seeing me bring back the same bad memories for him?
Of course it did. How could it not?
“I have to go,” I blurted out. Before either he or Sax could respond, I was out of there. I rounded the corner of the old building and fell to my knees, breathing heavily.
Holy shit. Bringing my arms up to my head, I held my face in my hands, trying to block out the memories that were flashing through my mind.
“M, are you okay?”
Sax knelt in front of me. His hands rested on my knees, waiting for an answer. Was I okay? No. But I couldn’t tell him that. I couldn’t tell him any of this.
“Come on.” He helped me to my feet and walked me over to his car. “Get in.”
I did, falling into the seat as he strapped the seatbelt around my waist. I closed my eyes and thought back to the last time I’d seen my brother.
“Just leave me alone, Pete,” I muttered, pulling the covers over my head.
“But you promised you’d take me to get some new shoes.” He flipped the covers back and shoved his foot in my face. “See?” he pointed to the huge, gaping hole over his big toe in his only pair of shoes.
“Later,” I mumbled.
He stormed off, swearing at me under his breath. “At least mom gave a shit,” he spat out, slamming my bedroom door with a bang.
“Yeah, well, she obviously doesn’t give enough of a shit to keep us out of foster care,” I replied, not caring that he’d already left.
Four hours later I learned my brother had been beaten to death on his way home from the mall. He was attacked by a gang—some of them younger than he was—for his new shoes.
Nate had been a part of that gang.
“What’s going on, M?” Sax’s gentle voice cut through my thoughts.
Wiping my eyes, I turned to him and shook my head. “I can’t…just give me a few minutes,” I mumbled.
“Sure.” He leaned over and squeezed my leg. “Take all the time you need.”
The rest of the drive back to his place was silent, with me lost in memories of my brother, and Sax doing his best to give me space.
He pulled into his driveway and shut off the car. “Will you come inside?” he asked, reaching for my hand.
“I can’t. I need to do some things. I’ll call you later,” I mumbled. I couldn’t even look at him as I was getting out of the car.
He watched me as I walked to my car and got in. No sooner had I shut the door than the tears really began to flow. Holy crap, of all the people in the world for me to run into, it had to be him?
I started the car and shifted it into gear, taking off down the street without looking back at Sax. If I looked back, I’d want to stay, and if I stayed…there were so many things I was hiding from him that I could not let him find out about.
***
I called in sick the next day—partly because I couldn’t face Sax, and I also just felt like a day in bed. I snuggled under my covers listening to the sound of Nelson getting ready for work and then leaving. I reached over and switched on the TV, unable to stand the silence.
My phone buzzed for the fourth time in ten minutes. I picked it up and checked the screen. Sax again.
I’m worried about you. Please let me come over.
Oh God. The last thing I needed was him here. I texted a response.
I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just got the flu or something. I’ll call you later.
I let the phone fall out of my hands and onto the floor. Rolling over, I turned over my pillow, which was soaked with tears. I’ll be fine. I just need some space to get through this.
Closing my eyes, I hoped like hell that was true.
***
“Mom,” I sob.
She looks at me. Even through the tears, there was no mistaking the coldness of her expression. Her steely gaze held mine as she pushed a loose strand of rusty blonde hair from her face.
Three weeks had passed since Pete had died. Social services had finally decided it was safe for me to return home. I don’t kn
ow how they came to that decision—and I wished they had kept me in the group home—but apparently I didn’t get any say.
Mom blamed me for his death. I blamed myself too. If only I’d gotten off my ass and taken him to the shop. I’d have done anything to be able to go back and change things. I was having nightmares every night. I kept seeing him everywhere.
“What?” Her voice holds no emotion. “What do you want me to say, Mikayla? Do you want me to pretend this wasn’t your fault so you can feel better?”
“My fault?” I snarked. “How about you take some responsibility, Mom? It was your fault we were in that stupid group home in the first place. And you haven’t changed at all. How long will it be till I’m shipped off again?” I asked, motioning toward the half empty bottle of gin that sat next to her.
My heart thumping out a frantic beat like it was trying to leave my chest. God, I hadn’t had a nightmare in a couple years. Shaking and trying to calm my breathing, I reached for my phone. It was just after three, but not only that, the message I had typed to Sax was still sitting there, unsent.
“Shit,” I muttered as someone pounded on the front door. That must’ve been what woke me. Grabbing my robe I threw it on and headed for the door and wrenched it open, squinting against the intrusion of daylight.
Sax.
“What are you doing here?” I asked quietly.
“You missed rehearsal.” He leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, a concerned look on his face. “You told me once if you don’t show up for rehearsal I should come looking for your roomie, Nelson.”
“No, you said that to me,” I grumbled. “Do you want to come in?” I stood back and let him through the door. His hand brushed past my bare leg, making me shiver.
“You’ll catch a cold,” he murmured softly.
“I was in bed with the electric blanket on,” I replied, a small smile playing on my lips.
“Then let’s go back there.”
I took his hand and led him into my room. Shutting the door behind him, I moved around the bed and shrugged off my robe, climbing under the covers. He unzipped his jacket and laid it over my dresser.
“What’s going on? Are you sick?” he asked. He pulled back the covers and climbed in next to me, pulling me into his arms.
I closed my eyes and focused on his fingers as they drew circles on my back. “I’m fine,” I mumbled. I wasn’t. But I would be. Eventually.
“No you’re not. Talk to me, M.”
“About what?”
He tilted my chin, so that my eyes would meet his. “Tell me what’s wrong. Something happened at the refuge. You raced out and you’ve been down ever since. You know you can tell me anything.”
Can I?
Taking a deep breath, I let the words form in my head. There was so much to tell him. And I had to do it carefully. Because one slip of the tongue and everything would change.
“Nate…seeing him was a shock.” My breath caught in my chest, and every breath brought with it a burning pain. Sax waited patiently for me to continue. “I told you I had a brother who died when I was younger. He was beaten to death by a gang of kids for a pair of new shoes. Nate was a part of that gang. He was so young that he got a pretty light sentence. And I guess now he’s out.”
I let out a huff of a laugh. It was an odd reaction considering I didn’t find any of this funny, but the only reaction I could have to keep from bursting into uncontrollable sobs and breaking my heart all over again.
“Holy shit, Micah. I don’t even know what to say.” His arms curled around me as he pulled me against his chest.
I could feel the tears coming, but I needed to get all this out. “We were in a foster home. Mom had addiction issues and we’d been placed in this home with seven other kids. I was supposed to take him shopping, but I was in one of my ‘I hate the world’ moods and I told him to go on his own. So he did.”
I wiped my eyes, the memory burned in my mind forever. If only I could go back and fix things. If only I’d taken him. If only…
“Micah, it’s not your fault. Please tell me you don’t blame yourself.” He gripped my face with his hands and forced me to look at him. His eyes burned with anger.
“I did for a long time. But the worst thing was, I was hurting, and Mom wasn’t there for me.” That was the moment in my life when I’d realized things were not going to get better unless I did something to make them better.
“And now?”
“I don’t blame myself. But I still wonder what would have happened if I’d been there with him. Maybe I could’ve stopped it, or maybe I could’ve gotten the ambulance there faster.”
“Poor girl,” he whispered, leaning his head against mine. He reached up and wiped away my tears with the tip of his finger. “My poor, sweet girl. You’re stronger than you think, Micah. You’ve been through so much, and look at you. Look how far you’ve come.”
I closed my eyes and rested my head against his chest, focusing on the beating of his heart.
I don’t feel very strong right now. I felt weak, and ashamed. But most of all, I felt afraid that I was on the verge of losing everything.
I woke up before him. Still entangled in his arms, I watched him sleep. I watched as his chest rose and fell in sync with the beating of his heart. Every now and then the edges of his mouth would twitch into a tiny smile. What’s he dreaming about? I reached out and touched his hair. He stirred, but didn’t wake. My heart ached as the gravity of my feelings for this guy began to hit me.
This had gone beyond me liking him. I was falling in love with him, and I was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. But every thought of how much I felt for him was underlined with the worry of what I was hiding from him. If he found out, how much would that change things? If he could get past the age difference, could he move through my deception? Could I if the roles were reversed?
His eyelids fluttered open. He smiled and reached out, his fingers grazing over the softness of my arm.
“Hey, beautiful,” he muttered.
“Hey,” I smiled. I bit my lip. It was impossible not to feel happy when I was around him. He lifted his arm and I rolled over, letting him spoon my back, his skin warm against mine. We were both naked, but last night had been nothing but him being there for me.
“I like waking up to this,” he mumbled into the back of my neck and then kissing me there. I giggled, squirming against him. His erection pressed up against my back and I laughed even more.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he whispered in my ear. “One of the hazards of being a guy is the morning hard-on.”
“Harsh,” I giggled, turning over to face him. “You could’ve at least pretended that it was all me.”
“Do you really want our relationship to start on a bed of lies?” He sighed dramatically and drew me in for another kiss. My heart raced, both at the feel of his lips meeting mine, and at the mention of lies.
There it was again, that gnawing in my stomach. What if he found out? Was it better to just come clean? No. If I told him the truth, I’d lose him for sure. He had issues with the four-year age difference. Eight years would surely push him over the edge.
“That comment made you go awfully quiet,” he smirked. “Was it the mention of a relationship? I know we haven’t really talked about what this is. I haven’t scared you off, have I?”
“Hardly,” I smiled. “I was just thinking about how lucky I feel right now.”
“You’re lucky?” He laughed. “I’m the lucky one. I’m in bed with a hottie. And she’s a damn good kisser.” He lifted my face and pressed his lips against mine. “Among other things,” he muttered, running his tongue over my mouth.
I laughed, wishing we could stay like that all day. It would be some kind of heaven to not get out of bed, and just lie there in a tangled web of arms and legs. I reached for my phone to check the time. Holy shit, it was nearly one in the morning.
“You got a bus to catch?” he mumbled, nibbling on my ear.
/> I laughed and dropped the phone, falling back into his arms. There was nowhere I wanted to be other than right here with him.
***
“What?” I finally asked.
We were sitting on floor of the balcony, drinking coffee. He hadn’t stopped staring at me and it was making me nervous.
“Tell me more about Pete,” he said.
I lay back, resting against him, and thought about my brother. Even after all this time, it still hurt. Seeing Sax interact with Stace made me sad because I knew I’d never get to experience that.
“He was three years younger than me. We had it pretty rough growing up, in and out of foster homes. When I was six and he was three Mom left us alone for three days while she went on a bender with her boyfriend at the time.” I wet my lips and shook my head. “The neighbor realized something was up when she found me crying, so she called the police, who called child services.”
“Shit, M,” he whispered, running his fingers through my hair.
I smiled at him and shrugged. “Most of the foster homes were okay. The worst that happened was the lack of the love you get—or expect to get—from a family.”
I ran my finger along the concrete floor below me. It was hard to explain it to someone who had never been through it.
“When you’re six, being dumped into a home with half a dozen other kids, having a roof over your head is about as good as it gets. Having your own bed to sleep in was a bonus. They kept Pete and me together, so we always had each other and I think that made it easier.”
“You don’t speak to your mom anymore?”
I shook my head. “Not since Pete’s funeral. She blamed me for his death.” I let out a shrill laugh. “Never mind the fact that she couldn’t keep her own kids out of foster care. I was fourteen. I was just a kid myself.”
“So on top of you blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault, your own mother blamed you. Fuck, M.” He kissed my head. Reaching down, he tenderly wiped away the tears that had formed.
“She was about to send me back into care. So I left. And I haven’t spoken to her since.”
His arms curled around me. Holding me close, he kissed my neck. “I hate that you’ve been through so much, M. I wish I could take away all the pain.”
Wicked Innocence Page 13