“That’s my favorite, too. Do you like seafood?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never had it before.”
His hands lightly smacks the table. “No.”
“Yes,” I reply in the same condescending tone.
“Okay, you got to try this.” He dishes up a piece of meat that’s bright white. “Lobster,” he says. I take a bite and groan in delight. He smiles. “What about this?” He hands me a shell with something in it that looks like snot, and I already don’t like it. I look up at him. “Come on, try it.”
Hesitantly, I sniff it, wrinkling my nose when the pungent odor hits my nostrils. It smells disgusting. He rolls his eyes. I tip it back and immediately feel the vomit creeping up my throat. “What the hell is that?”
He’s laughing. “Oyster. Sorry.”
I grab a glass of water and down the whole thing. “Gross,” I say. Kingsley is still shaking with laughter.
We continue eating. After a moment, he looks up to meet my gaze. “So, Maddy, what are your dreams?”
I swallow my mouthful of food. “My dreams?”
“Yes, what’re your dreams?”
I think on that for a moment. I have a few dreams, but they are all based off one. “To get into Juilliard, and play the cello for the rest of my life.”
“I like that dream. Would you play in an orchestra, or do you want to perform solo?”
“I think I would like to play in an orchestra. What about you, Kingsley? What are your dreams?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m still in the process.”
“Of what?”
“Dreaming.”
I laugh and shake my head and we fall into an easy flow of conversation with the jazz band playing in the background. I notice he veers the topic away from his family when I ask, so we move onto lighter subjects.
“One of my neighbors, Lydia, called my house to ask if we had anyone we could send over to help her shut off her sprinklers. It was eleven at night, so of course we didn’t. Nick thought it was funny, so he offered my services. When I came home half an hour later, he was in hysterics.”
I have no idea who Nick is, but I’m on the edge of my seat, desperate to hear more. “What? Why?”
“Because apparently he watched it all unfold from his balcony with binoculars.” He shakes his head with a smirk on his face. “Lydia’s the same age as my mom with an old husband that’s never there. Whenever she comes over, she practically throws herself at me. So when I attempted to shut off the sprinklers, I slipped and fell on my ass, and somehow she fell on top of me, and went in for the kiss.”
I burst out laughing. I can only imagine how hilarious that would have been to see. No wonder the Nick guy was in hysterics—I practically am as well.
Kingsley is shaking his head, and his cheeks are a warm shade of red. “Okay, now that I’ve told you an embarrassing story, it’s your turn.”
I rack my brain to think of a good one, and come up with multiple. The one that sticks out in my head, however, is the one I know he won't be able to stop laughing at. “My friend and I were quite young when we first started stealing, and we found this object at a house we’d broken into. Neither of us knew what it was, but it seemed like it was made out of gold. Anyway, when we gave it to the guy at the pawn shop, he burst out laughing and wouldn’t take it. He was still laughing when we left. It was only a few years later when we realized what it was.”
Kingsley’s eyes are fixed on mine, his gaze so intense, as if he’s intensely interested in my story. “Well, what was it?”
I feel my cheeks heat for a moment and quickly berate myself mentally before I answer. “A vibrator.”
Sure enough, the laughter spills out of him and it’s so infectious, I can’t help but laugh along with him.
After I humiliate myself, we have dessert, and sit there for at least an hour, just listening to the jazz band. I was sure the waiters were getting irritated, but Kingsley didn’t say a word until I told him I was ready.
“Did you like that?” Kingsley asks, slipping his hand into mine and guiding me back through the restaurant.
“I loved it, apart from those gross slimy things.”
He chuckles. “But they’re the best.”
When we reach his car, I don’t roll my eyes when he opens the door for me. I slip inside and let out a sigh. This has by far been one of the best nights of my life.
We don’t need to say anything on the drive home, and the silence is filled with the music reminiscing in my head.
We stop outside Cynthia’s house, and I wonder how long I can keep this charade up before Cynthia’s father starts thinking this is weird.
I swallow back the lump that’s formed in the back of my throat and face him. “Thank you.”
One of his hands are still holding the steering wheel, but the other is resting on the center console. “Manners?” he says with a smile.
I scold him. “I say thank you every night.”
“You say thanks.”
I can feel the smile spreading across my face, so I turn away and let my head fall back into the chair. “Same thing,” I mutter, and he laughs. I decide I love that sound. After the cello, it’s my new favorite sound.
I rub the palms of my sweaty hands against my jeans, then grab the door handle. Just as I’m about to leave, I feel his hand on my arm and I stop in place as it ignites that flame again.
I look at him, and my eyes flick to his lips of their own accord before flicking back to his eyes. I’m startled. The expression on his face captivates me. He looks hopeful, hungry. His green eyes are bright, and the corner of his mouth twitches as he stares at mine.
He leans forward over the center console. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my face, and I want to breathe it in, but I can’t move. His fingers burn a trail up my arm, my neck, until they stop just below my ear. He cups my cheek, and his thumb lightly brushes over my jaw. God, it feels too good to make him stop.
If I could breathe, I think I would be hyperventilating.
Our eyes meet and he says softly, “I’m going to kiss you, Maddison.”
I exhale a shaky breath. My tongue glides over my lips in anticipation, and I whisper, “Okay.”
I feel his other hand slide around to the nape of my neck, and my blood boils beneath his touch. Before I can make sense of anything, his lips brush up against mine.
At first, his lips are soft and gentle. They seem to fit perfectly with my own. He tastes tentatively with his tongue as it traces my lips, then enters my mouth. When I don’t protest, the kiss deepens. Hot, fiery, passionate. My heart is pounding, and I don’t even realize what I’m doing until I’ve done it. My hands grip onto his shirt, and I pull him against me. I don’t know what I expected for a first kiss, but this is definitely blowing my mind. When he pulls away, I almost growl at the unexpected loss, but then his hot breath is against my face, his kisses trailing up my jaw. A low moan escapes my lips and Kingsley silences it by capturing my mouth with his.
I need to pull away, but I can’t seem to. My senses are seduced, and I can no longer think straight. I feel him smile against me, the kiss slowing, and when he pulls back, we are both out of breath.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so happy, and I know I’ve never felt like this before. Shit.
He bites his lip, then falls back into his seat with a sigh. “That was even better than I imagined.”
I can’t stop the smile spreading across my face. “You’ve been imagining us kissing?”
He looks back to me with a devilish grin, then arches an eyebrow.
Oh, God. I shake my head and refrain from laughing. I let out a breath and grab the door handle again. “Goodnight, Kingsley.”
His face softens and that grin turns into a delicate smile. It takes everything in me not to lean over the console and touch those lips again. “Goodnight, Maddison.”
I turn and open the door, grateful that the cool air helps clear my head, but it does nothing to my erratic
pulse. My shoulders fall, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get rid of that goddamn smile. His car idles behind me. I have no choice but to follow the footpath up to Cynthia’s house.
Cynth opens the door when I knock, and then I hear the purr drift off into the distance. “Why are you smiling like a fucking kid that just got her braces off?”
I laugh. “What?”
“I’m watching a dentist doccie with my dad—forced to. But now you’re here, yay! Thanks for saving my life.” She grabs my hand, and tugs me behind her. “Dad, Madz is here, we’re going up to my room!” she shouts. When she finally slows down, she glowers at me. “Why do you keep harassing me? What’s going on?”
I’m surprised to see she is sober—grateful, actually. I squeeze her hand and pull her into me.
“Okay, way too touchy-feely. Something’s going on with you, and you have to spill. Now.”
She shoves me off her and slams her bedroom door shut. I’m not about to tell her anything. If anyone hates the richies, it’s her. She’ll despise me and sabotage him. So, I lie.
“Nothing, nothing’s going on.”
“Wait, does this have something to do with Suzie the psycho?”
I laugh.
“You kicked her ass, didn’t you? I wouldn’t be able to wipe the smile off my face, either.”
“No, I didn’t. I nearly did, though.” I think back to Kingsley pulling me off her. If he had waited one more minute, I’d have no shot to get into Juilliard.
She pulls her hands to her hips and scolds me. “What is it then?” I just stare at her, and she raises a finger and taps me on the chest. “I will get to the bottom of this.”
I don’t doubt it. She chucks me a can of coke and sits on her bed. “I got a job today.”
I choke on the gulp of soda I just took, and she pats me on the back.
“Woah, chill out. It’s not that big of a deal.”
When I finally gather my breath, I grab her hands and pull her towards me. “Where?”
“Down at Junior’s Records, just working in the shop. It’s not much, but it’s a start. The owner said if I do well, I might be able to have a position in the studio if one becomes available.”
“That’s amazing, Cynth. I’m so proud of you!” I wrap my arms around her, and she chuckles.
“At least someone thinks so.” She nods her head back out the door, and I know she’s referring to her dad. He’s been disappointed in her ever since she got kicked out of school. When her mom died, she failed classes, got into fights, and stopped going altogether right before she was expelled. Now she has a job—heck, she’s even sober. Maybe she’s finally getting herself together.
“All right, let’s watch Vampire Diaries so that I can drool over my boys for the rest of the night.” She pulls me down onto the bed next to her.
“Only one episode,” I say.
“We’ll see,” she snickers. We can never only watch one, no matter how many times we’ve seen it, but I have to get home. We pull up the blankets. Cynth rips open a bag of chips and hands me a soda, and we lean back into the cushions and turn the volume right up.
When the episode ends, I jump to my feet.
“God, I love Damon! Nothing like a bad boy.” She makes a deep noise in her throat, and I laugh. “One more?”
I shake my head. “Can’t. Have to go home, and you better not watch another one without me.”
She falls back onto the bed, and sighs. “Fine.” She holds out her hand into a fist bump, and I lean over the bed and tap it. “Tomorrow?”
I nod. “Try not to get into too much mischief before then.”
She scoffs. “Coming from you, Miss Scrappy.”
I shut the door behind me, pop my head into the lounge to say bye to her dad, then head out the door and make my way home.
It takes just over five minutes to reach my street, and as soon as I round the corner near my house, I hear it.
A scream.
I’m not sure if it’s coming from my house, but my mind begins to race. I sprint down the street, and the closer I get, the louder it is. My breathing picks up, and everything inside of me tenses. No, no, no. Another scream. The cool air freezes my face as I push myself harder. I almost knock over a middle-aged man walking his dog as I sprint past him. He shouts after me, but I’m concentrating on that horrible sound. That sound that haunts me.
As soon as I reach my house, I jump the small fence, sprint up the steps, and shove open the door.
My heart drops so low, I’m sure it’s getting dragged across the floor instead of Angela. Darren looks up, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrow. Nothing is going to stop him from what he is doing. His hand is gripping her hair, and she is hunched over on her knees. I’m stuck in the doorframe, my gaze glued to them, but what breaks me out of a petrified state is the cries—the cries of my siblings coming from behind him.
All the kids are watching in hysterics. Holy fuck. I’m still frozen when Darren hurls around to Phoebe, who is making the most noise, and I don’t think as I run towards her.
I watch his hand go up as if in slow motion, and I’m just about to reach her when it comes down and knocks the breath out of her. Her cries silence.
Everything shatters inside me. My voice shakes as the anger ripples through me. “Get. The. Fuck. Away from them.” I don’t care that he is three times my size. He inches closer to my face, but I hold my ground. “Just fucking try it.”
His eyes are so far gone, it’s clear he’s high on something. I will my body not to tremble, setting my jaw and digging in my heels. I refuse to show the fear coursing through my body. He snarls in my face, then Angela screams at him. “Don’t!”
He glares at me, then turns back to Angela, grabs her by the hair again and drags her into another room.
I let out the breath I was holding and fall to the floor beside Phoebe. I scoop her into my arms. She’s whimpering. A large red welt is swelling on the left side of her face.
Tears stream down the kids’ faces, and I pull them into me and squeeze them tight. I don’t want to let them go. Their sobs are uncontrollable and their tiny bodies are trembling in shock. I take them into my room and lock the door as I pull out my phone and call 911.
I can’t keep this up. I can’t let them live in this environment. Getting into Juilliard is nothing compared to their safety.
It takes the police ten minutes to get here. Ten minutes of Darren shouting and Angela screaming for help. Ten minutes of listening to my siblings sob, and my heart hammer in my chest, afraid that he’s about to come up those stairs and kick the door down.
Darren is finally arrested. The police knock on my door and I let them in. They check on each of us to make sure we’re all okay, and when the kids have settled, they leave. Angela doesn’t come up and I’m relieved.
My five foster siblings lay on top of one another on my single bed. I lay on the floor, taking ahold of Tilly’s hand that’s hanging off the side. I hope things aren’t going to get worse now. CPS will be here soon, probably tomorrow. They’ll take the kids off Angela, and maybe they’ll let me stay with Cynth just so I can finish the year off and get into Juilliard. I can’t even imagine not seeing them again. My stomach aches just thinking about it. I force my way onto the bed, pulling Phoebe onto my chest, and the rest snuggle in around me.
Maddison
I can’t go to school. Angela is still in bed, and the kids are shaken up. As I’m feeding them breakfast, our social worker arrives. It’s as if an endless pit expands in my stomach and I’m about to fall into it. I want her help, but at the same time, I don’t.
I open the door. She’s holding her clipboard in her hand, and her dark eyebrows are drawn together in concern. “Hello, Maddison,” she says in her low, firm voice.
“Hi, Trudy.” I invite her in and walk her to the kitchen.
“Where’s Angela?”
“Bed.”
She frowns, writes something down on her paper, then looks up. “Would you like a drink?�
�� I ask.
“No, thank you.” She sits down at the table, and gestures for me to as well.
“I can go wake her for you.”
She shakes her head. “Actually, I need to talk to you.” The tone of her voice scares me. Yeah, I knew this conversation wasn’t going to be easy, but the way she said she needed to talk to me sounded as if the conversation wasn’t going to be about what happened last night at all. I sit on my hands and wait for her to speak.
“Do you know what the date is today?”
I pause as I think about it, but have no idea, so I shake my head.
“It’s the 26th of February.”
My heart sinks.
She leans forward and touches my thigh as I sit there speechless. Everything flashes before my eyes. My scholarship. My audition. My foster siblings, and strangely, Kingsley. I panic. “No.” I shake my head, my eyes widening. “No,” I say again and again.
Her hands dart up to clasp mine that are in fisted balls on my lap. “Maddison, calm down. It’s okay.”
I take a few deep breaths but I can feel my eyes stinging.
Today is my eighteenth birthday.
“I was speaking to a few of my colleagues the other day when this came up and I enrolled you in the extended foster care program.”
All that panic comes to a halt as I lean forward in my seat, dumbfounded. “What does that mean?” I say in a rush.
“It means you are able to stay here and finish out your year at school. However, this was before last night’s incident.”
What? How the hell did I forget it was my birthday? And how the hell am I not getting kicked out on my ass right now?
She leans back in her seat and picks up her clipboard. When her gaze meets mine, I can see in her eyes how much she wants to help me. She smiles hesitantly, then says, “I need you to tell me what’s been happening.”
And so I do.
She just sits there, writing, occasionally nodding, and rubbing my hand. When I finish, Angela walks around the corner into the kitchen. “Shit, I didn’t know you were coming.”
Stolen Songs Page 8