Sin Bin (Denver Rebels Book 3)

by Maureen Smith

  Two days later when she showed up at the center to say her goodbyes, there was a large crowd gathered under a banner that read to infinity and beyond! We’ll Miss You, meadow! in bright red letters surrounded by drawings of planets and asteroids.

  “Surprise!” everyone yelled, blowing noisemakers and tossing confetti at her.

  “Oh my God. You guys…” Meadow looked at the sea of beaming faces and promptly burst into tears.

  The crowd rushed forward, showering her with hugs and kisses. Just about everyone who mattered was here—staff members, fellow volunteers, foster kids she’d mentored, their adoptive families and caseworkers.

  “You should have seen your face,” teased fourteen-year-old Zari, who’d spent most of her childhood bouncing between her drug-addicted mother and foster homes before she was adopted by a loving family. “We got you so good.”

  “You sure did.” Meadow shook her head, looking around in amazement. There were space-themed balloons and streamers everywhere. “I don’t even know what to say. This is too much.”

  Lois grinned at her. “You didn’t seriously think we’d let you go without a proper sendoff, did you?”

  Meadow smiled at the older redhead and whispered earnestly, “Thank you.”

  “Thank you.” Lois’s blue eyes were shiny with tears. “We can never repay you for giving so selflessly of your time and talent these past eight years. You’ve touched the lives of everyone in this room, as well as countless others. Wherever life takes you, please know that your generous heart, passionate advocacy and legacy of service will never be forgotten.”

  As more tears streamed down Meadow’s face, Lois pulled her close for a hard hug. Cheers and applause erupted around them until they drew apart, laughing warmly and wiping tears from each other’s cheeks.

  “Come see your cake, Meadow.” Zari grabbed her hand excitedly and tugged her toward the long refreshment table. The centerpiece was a huge chocolate cake decorated to look like the solar system.

  “Oh my gosh!” Meadow laughed through her tears.

  “Do you like it?” Zari asked anxiously.

  “Are you kidding? It’s amazing!”

  Zari beamed with delight. “I picked it out.”

  “Aww. I really appreciate that.” Meadow hugged her around her waist, grinning when the tall teenager slung an arm around her shoulders and rested her cheek on top of her head. Zari had started playing volleyball after she was adopted. With her height and powerful right arm, she was the best hitter on her team. Meadow had attended most of her games over the past two years. Like many others, she truly believed that Zari would receive an athletic scholarship someday. She was that good.

  “You might have picked out the design,” piped up fifteen-year-old Diego, “but the solar system cake was everybody’s idea.”

  “I never said it wasn’t,” Zari retorted.

  “You implied it,” Diego shot back.

  “Did not.”

  “Did, too.”

  “It’s okay,” Meadow intervened, laughing. “I absolutely love the cake, so that’s all that matters. You know what else I love?” She put her arm around Diego’s shoulders and turned him toward the banner that hung from the ceiling. “Did you make that?”

  He smiled shyly and nodded, a blush creeping up his neck.

  She sighed appreciatively. “It’s the most beautiful banner I’ve ever seen.”

  His smile widened with pleasure.

  “I’m taking it home,” she said, “but first I want you to sign it for me.”

  “Really? Why?”

  She grinned at him. “Someday when you’re a famous artist, I’ll pull out the banner and proudly show off your autograph—which will be worth millions, I’m sure.” She ruffled his dark hair and received an adoring grin in return.

  Diego and his younger brother had been orphaned when their parents were deported several years ago. They were torn apart and sent to different foster homes, a traumatic separation they’d endured until a childless couple adopted the siblings and gave them a permanent home.

  “I’ll get the banner down for you before you leave,” Diego promised Meadow.

  She thanked him warmly and hugged him around his shoulders.

  “Here, baby.” An older black woman brought Meadow a plate loaded with barbecue ribs, baked beans and potato salad.

  She accepted the food with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Agatha.”

  Agatha winked as she plucked bits of confetti out of Meadow’s hair. As the agency’s adoption program administrator, she’d taken Meadow under her wing the very first time they met. She always had a smile and a kind word for her. She listened to her, supported her and generously shared her wisdom. Meadow would miss her stories and affirming hugs.

  Everyone wanted to know what she would be doing at Gamenetic. As they sat around eating and talking, she answered their questions and shared some ideas she’d come up with for youth development programs.

  “God, I wish we could have found a salaried position for you,” Lois lamented, shaking her head. “You know I would have hired you in a heartbeat if there’d been any room in the budget.”

  Meadow smiled. “I know, and I appreciate that. But working with all of you has been more rewarding than any salary you could have paid me. I mean that.”

  A chorus of “Awww” went through the group.

  “That is so sweet of you to say, kiddo.” Lois sighed, looking misty-eyed again. “Our loss is definitely Gamenetic’s gain.”

  “Definitely,” agreed Tavvi, a Native American woman who worked as a project coordinator. “I mean, I know you need to pay your bills and all—” She playfully rolled her eyes, drawing hearty laughter “—but I wish you didn’t have to leave us. You’ve been volunteering with the agency since you were in high school. It won’t be the same around here without you.”

  A chorus of agreements went around the group, thickening the lump that seemed permanently lodged in Meadow’s throat.

  Agatha gave her back a comforting rub. “We’re all going to miss you tremendously, but everyone has to understand that God directs our paths through the closing and opening of doors. The reason you couldn’t find a job here is because you’re needed in Denver. Maybe there’s another group of foster children you’re supposed to help. Maybe there are new friends and connections you’re supposed to make.” Her dark eyes twinkled. “Or maybe your future husband is waiting for you in Denver.”

  Meadow blushed as all the women laughed and cheered encouragingly while the men made a strategic retreat to the refreshment table.

  “Maybe you’re right, Agatha,” Tavvi said teasingly. “Maybe moving to Denver will inspire Meadow to start going out on dates. God knows her love life here has been drier than the Mojave Desert.”

  This drew more laughter and good-natured ribbing. Meadow’s nonexistent love life had been fodder for many lunch-hour conversations at the center. She’d been encouraged to create profiles on different dating apps—she never did—and she’d endured more matchmaking schemes than she cared to remember.

  “I’m not thinking about dating right now,” she told the cackling group of women. “My main priorities are settling into my new community and getting acclimated to my new job.” Even as the words left her mouth, she could see the dark pools of Logan’s eyes, could feel him stroking her cheek after rocking her world with that explosive five-alarm kiss.

  Something in her expression must have betrayed her thoughts because Tavvi gave her a sly smile. “Maybe you already have your eye on someone. Did you happen to meet any cute guys while you were in Denver for your interview?”

  “No,” Meadow said so quickly that several eyebrows lifted. She flushed and pushed her glasses up her nose. “I mean, I was only there for three days—”

  Lois grinned. “A lot can happen in three days.”

  Tell me about it!

  “All I know is that when you do find Mr. Right,” Agatha declared, “you’d better invite all of us to the wedding!”


  There was another eruption of laughter and enthusiastic whoop-whoops.

  After they finished eating, Tavvi cut the cake, doling out the first slice to Meadow.

  Cameras flashed as she sank her fork into the moist chocolate confection. When she tasted it, she sighed and gave an appreciative thumbs-up. Logan would so love this cake.

  As if she’d read her mind, Agatha elbowed her in the ribs and winked conspiratorially. “Maybe you’ll meet Logan Brassard in Denver.”

  “The hockey player from Vegas?” one of the adoptive fathers piped up.

  “That’s the one.” Agatha turned back to Meadow with a twinkling smile. “It just occurred to me that you and Logan have very similar backgrounds. You both spent part of your childhood in foster care, and you’ve both done a lot for the community.” She lowered her voice as she added confidingly, “You might not know this, but Logan has donated millions to fund many group homes around the state. He also founded the Children’s Odyssey Ranch for foster youth.”

  Meadow was stunned. “He’s the anonymous benefactor?”

  Agatha nodded. “Not many people know. He insisted on that.”

  “Wow,” Meadow marveled, shaking her head slowly. “I’ve volunteered at the Odyssey Ranch several times. How did I not know that Logan Brassard was the founder?”

  “Well, if I recall, you were away at a summer internship in Botswana when the ranch opened. I met Logan at the ribbon-cutting ceremony. He was just a kid himself, barely twenty-one. Such a handsome rascal with that cowboy swagger and mischievous grin. The kids were so excited to meet him. He signed autographs, gave out a ton of jerseys and toys, played games and rode horses with the children. He made that day truly special for them, and the ranch has been a resounding success ever since.” She smiled proudly. “The only reason I know he’s the founder is because my doctor serves on the board of trustees. He says Logan prefers to keep his philanthropy private. He doesn’t do it for the attention or accolades. He gives back because he remembers what it was like to be orphaned, and he wants to make things better for as many foster children as he can.”

  Meadow’s throat closed up and she blinked hard.

  Agatha touched her arm. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” She swallowed. “That was just…really touching.”

  “I know. He’s a beautiful man, inside and out.” Agatha’s eyes twinkled warmly. “Now that we have a professional hockey team, everyone in my family has become Golden Knights fans. But I’m secretly rooting for the Denver Rebels to win the Stanley Cup. I bet Logan will bring the Cup home and celebrate with the kids at the ranch.”

  Meadow smiled softly. “I could see him doing that.”

  As soon as she finished her piece of cake, Lois grabbed her hand and led her to the front of the room, where she called for everyone’s attention. When the crowd grew silent, Lois once again thanked Meadow for her hard work and dedication. Then she presented her with a silver charm bracelet and a beautiful plaque commemorating her eight years of service.

  Meadow could barely see through her tears as several others got up and paid glowing tribute to her with stories and jokes. She soaked in their words, her heart expanding with love and gratitude.

  When it was her turn to speak, her voice was so raspy with emotion that she hardly recognized it. She thanked everyone for welcoming her into their lives and told them she would always consider them family. “The time we spent together has enriched me beyond measure and left me with so many wonderful memories. Memories that I’ll carry in my heart forever.”

  At the end of her speech, the room erupted in cheers and applause. Then everyone crowded around her, swallowing her up in tearful hugs and well wishes. Plenty more pictures were taken, and phone numbers and email addresses were double-checked and confirmed.

  When the party was over, Diego and Zari walked out with Meadow, helping her carry her stuff to her car. They hugged her tightly and promised to keep in touch, then stood waving goodbye as she drove away with fresh tears in her eyes.

  A feeling of deep melancholy settled over her as she headed home. She found herself wondering if she was doing the right thing by moving to Denver. She’d had a rocky childhood, and everywhere she looked she saw reminders of her troubled past. She needed a change of scenery, a blank canvas she could paint her future upon. But Vegas was the only home she’d ever known. What if she didn’t fit in anywhere else?

  The thought made her frown as she stopped at a red light. She was sitting there when suddenly, without warning, her mind flashed to an image of herself as a little girl lying in a hospital bed.

  The picture was so clear that she gasped, her hands tightening on the steering wheel.

  It wasn’t the first time the image had popped into her consciousness. But she still didn’t know the source of it. Was it a memory? Part of a dream?

  Slowly she reached up to rub the thin surgical scar hidden under her hairline. She must have been hospitalized at some point in her childhood. But she didn’t remember when or why, and she’d never been able to get concrete answers from anyone.

  She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t realize the light had turned green until a horn honked behind her. Embarrassed, she glanced in the rearview mirror and waved apologetically at the annoyed driver.

  And then, acting on impulse, she turned left instead of right and headed west of downtown. She was going someplace she hadn’t been since she was six years old. She’d memorized the address from her records, one of the few pieces of information she’d been able to obtain.

  After half a dozen blocks, she turned onto Rainbow Boulevard and kept going until she reached a road leading into an old residential neighborhood. She drove until she came to the address, her pulse kicking up.

  She parked across the street from the house, under the rustling fronds of a mesquite tree. The desert sun was setting and the street was quiet.

  She shut off the engine, rolled down the window and stared at the one-story house. Like most of the other houses on the street, it was old and shabby, the stucco peeling and in need of fresh paint. The yard was overgrown, the windows were dark and the driveway was empty. No one appeared to be home.

  She had no memory of living there. No memory of walking down those crumbling front steps or sitting under that large tree in the yard. It was like looking at a stranger’s house, not the place she’d briefly called home after her parents died. She felt no connection to it. No sense of attachment.

  But as she sat there looking out the window, a strange feeling came over her. A feeling of fear and dread that knotted her stomach and sent an icy chill down her spine.

  She swallowed hard and licked her lips, her fingers worrying at the scar beneath her hairline. She wished more than ever that she could fill the holes in her memory. But maybe it was for the best that she couldn’t remember the past. Maybe the truth was too devastating. Maybe it would undo all the progress she’d made over the years.

  Maybe it would destroy her.

  The thought made her break into a clammy sweat. As she sat staring at the gloomy old house, she couldn’t shake a growing certainty that something terrible had happened within those walls. Something unspeakable that haunted her to this day.

  As her heart began to beat faster, she thought she could hear the faintest echo of screams. A woman’s horrified screams followed by a man shouting and—

  Pop!

  A car backfired down the street, the loud noise making her jump out of her skin.

  Blood pounding in her ears, she started the car with shaking hands and drove off, suddenly desperate to get away from the house and the secrets within.

  Her heart was beating out of her chest and she could feel her breath starting to hitch. She barely made it out of the neighborhood before the panic attack hit.

  She pulled over to the side of the road and jammed the car into park. She was gasping and choking, trying to get air into her lungs. She clawed her seat belt off and flung the door open, dragging in desperate
gulps of oxygen.

  It had been a while since she’d had one of her panic attacks. She’d experienced them regularly while in foster care and for several years after she was adopted.

  She put her head between her knees and closed her eyes, struggling to remember the breathing exercises the group home counselors had taught her, a soothing hand on her back, a gentle voice at her ear.

  Just breathe. In…and out. That’s good. Memories can’t hurt you, Meadow. Breathe in…breathe out. You’re safe now….

  She slowed her breathing, willing her racing heart to settle. As precious oxygen poured back into her lungs, her chest loosened and she felt the suffocating dregs of panic begin to recede.

  Her mouth was dry and her skin was damp with sweat. Slowly she lifted her head to watch the blur of flickering headlights from passing cars.

  From behind her, she heard her phone buzzing on the passenger seat.

  She pulled her legs back into the car and closed the door, then reached across the seat and grabbed the phone with trembling fingers. Her heart thumped in her throat when she saw who was calling.

  She pressed the answer button and brought the phone to her ear. “Logan?”

  “Hey, Jup—” He broke off abruptly. “What’s wrong?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners. “Nothing’s wrong,” she croaked. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine.” His voice was sharp with worry. “What’s going on?”

  “N-Nothing.” She struggled to sound normal. “I, uh, just left the adoption center where I volunteered. They threw me a surprise going-away party. It got me all weepy and emotional.”

  Logan was silent. He didn’t believe her.

  “I have pictures from the party. I’ll send them to you.” The words came out in a rush. “Wait till you see the cake they got me. It was decorated like the solar system. It was so cool. The detailing was just amazing. And it was chocolate…” She trailed off weakly and took a shaky breath, trying to steady nerves that felt like they’d been scraped raw.