by Blue Saffire
The moment she is on the other side of the door, Zhong embraces me in a tight hug.
“How have you been, old friend?” I ask as he steps back.
“Well. I’ve been building your wealth, tracking down Renshu, and searching for your new mate.”
The mention of her causes heat to flood my face.
“She is beautiful, is she not?”
Zhong shrugs. “No more than the others. She seems to come with a lot of baggage this time. I fear she’ll run through her wishes before you’ve had time to make her fall in love with you.”
“I saw the bruises.” My jaw clenches. “I am not worried. I will handle this.”
“You have two more wishes before the time mark fades and you have to give her the ultimatum. Do you really believe you can do it this time?”
I can hear the worry and weariness in his voice. I was not the only one Renshu cursed that day. Zhong takes on the burden as my caretaker. As long as my soul remains connected to that statue, he must continue to walk the earth.
“I believe it will be different this time.” Gods I hope so.
Zhong doesn’t reply. For so many years, we have come close to breaking this curse, only to fall short in the end.
“Tell me, how did you find her this time?”
Zhong lifts a shoulder nonchalantly. “Same as always. I followed Renshu’s trail here until it ran cold. Which means he had found your new mate and planted himself in her life. I let the magic of the statue do the rest.”
It seems simple, but I know how difficult the job of finding my mates is. Even narrowing it down to one place still means checking hundreds of women to find the right one.
“Come, my friend.” I grab the statue off the bookshelf. “I need to get out of these clothes and shower. I’ve been stuck in this statue for two centuries. You must fill me in on this fortune I have acquired.”
Though I am in good spirits as I head out of the office, my mind does wander back to my mate. I already miss her, as her sweet vanilla scent lingers in the room. The longer we are together the stronger my bond with her will grow. Maybe this time, she will feel the same for me.
Chapter 3
Home
Bri
Pulling away from the large house feels like I’m driving away from something. Like maybe I left my phone, or a kidney behind. My hands tighten so firmly on the steering wheel, I have to make myself not turn back around.
From the moment those dark monolid eyes met mine, I was completely transfixed. Longwei is absolutely gorgeous. Taller than my five four height by at least a foot. Hair so dark it looks like ink, pulled back into a low ponytail at the base of his head.
His square face is perfectly symmetrical, with high cheekbones. Just a little facial hair drew attention to his lips, the bottom slightly fuller than the top. Thick dark eyebrows that pull you into those haunting eyes. Not even the slight bend to his strong nose could take away from his perfection. And the thing that topped it all off, was his smile.
I swear my heart stuttered when I saw him. I forgot all about the burning in my hand when I laid eyes on him. I had this crazy stupid feeling when we touched—I was made for him.
It only lasted for a second before reality came back to me and I realized I was being foolish. I was once again looking for something that wasn’t there. Now as I drive further away from the mansion on the hill, I feel as if I’m driving away from something important.
I rub at the tingling mark on my arm. I don’t know what the hell happened there. I guess it serves me right for touching things that don’t belong to me.
The beautiful trees and the nice houses start to fade as I travel away from the Hope Springs side of town and back toward the New Market side. New Market is a far cry from the mansions and large expensive homes where Wei lives. Rundown shops mix in with liquor stores and check cashing businesses. Every other street has at least one wall full of graffiti and gang tags.
This is where I call home. Even before I was placed in foster care at the age of nine, this side of town was where I grew up. I only remember my mother in small snippets of my past.
She would come to my grandmother’s house every now and again. At the time, I didn’t know what was wrong with her, but as I got older, I realized she was on drugs. Her frazzled appearance and violent behavior would frighten me when I was a little girl. Grandma used to tell her to not come by the house until she could clean herself up. I guess she never did.
When grandma died, the social workers tried to search for my mother or other family that could take me in, but they couldn’t find her. Even if they did find her, I doubted she was in any condition to take care of me. I was tossed into foster hell and that’s where I remained until I turned eighteen.
I turn onto the street of brick homes. The houses not as run down as most houses in this area, but still a far reach from Hope Springs. I pull my car into the driveway of my former foster mother’s house.
Even the sight of it turns my stomach. I spent all of my time in foster care in this brick home. Even at the age of twenty-three, it still scares the shit out of me.
I step out of the car walking up to the front door. As always, the front door is open, but the screen door is locked. I knock on the screen, rattling the metal door.
“Who the fuck knocking at my door like that?” a male voice says, one that carries so many humiliating and painful memories. “Well, if ain’t my favorite girl. Hey, chocolate drop.” Robert Sanders opens the screen door and smiles at me.
He once held a smile that I thought was endearing. He was a friendly face in a place that I considered hell. A boy that I foolishly thought I was in love with. I later found out that he was just as sick and sadistic as his mother. Robert is Tasha’s, my foster mother, biological child. He’s nine months older than me and as much of a bully as his mother.
He’s been in and out of the house since he turned seventeen. Always staying with some new girlfriend, only to get kicked out and end up back here.
“Mama told me you were back.” His grin widens as his tongue rolls over his bottom lip, that gold front tooth shining. “Maybe we can catch up, like old times. I even got a new camera.”
Bile rises in my throat and a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. How could I have ever considered what we had as love?
“I told you, never again.”
He fake pouts, sticking out his bottom lip. “Don’t you still love me?” He reaches out a hand trying to touch me, and I smack it away. He laughs.
“Rob, why you got my door open letting flies in?” I’ve never been happier to hear Tasha’s voice in my life.
Still laughing, he calls over his shoulder. “It’s chocolate drop, Ma. We’re just catching up.”
“Mmmm,” Tasha mumbles in the background.
“Come on in.” He smirks, stepping back to grant me entrance.
I step through the door, making sure I keep as much distance between me and Rob as possible. As soon as I step inside, the sound of little feet running from the back of the house greets my ears, and already I’m smiling. I never had siblings. At least I don’t think so. I have no idea who my father is.
However, when I was about thirteen, Tasha fostered two little brothers. Mason was three and Tyrie was one when they first came to live here. Then about four years later, little Kyro was dropped off.
The boys are biological brothers, and though I have no blood relation to them, they’re my brothers as well. They mean the world to me and are the only family I truly have. Everything I’m doing is for them.
Just the thought of my new job has a vision of Wei popping up in my mind. I get that feeling again, the one I had back in the mansion. It feels as if someone is standing right beside me, even the chill is back. And now this mark on my arm is tingling again. I rub at it briefly before Kyro runs into my arms and wraps his around my waist as if he hasn’t seen me in years, despite the fact that he just saw me this morning.
“Bri, you’re back,” he says excitedly.
/> I understand him. I’m only staying here on borrowed time. I have no doubt that Tasha will kick me out again soon.
“I told you I was coming back.” I ruffle his long shaggy hair. “You’re in need of a haircut, kid.”
“Don’t come in here with all that bullshit,” Tasha says from her seat on the couch. “The boy half white, his ass can go without a haircut every damn week.”
Kyro’s large brown eyes—nearly covered by his overgrown curly hair—look up at me with fear. It doesn’t matter that Kyro and his brothers are mixed, their hair still needs to be combed and taken care of often. However, that isn’t something Tasha cares about.
She always did the bare minimum when it came to us. She supplied a roof over our head, weather appropriate clothes on our backs, and just enough food in our bellies. She put in only enough effort so that social services wouldn’t be notified. For everything else, we were on our own.
“As soon as I get my first check, I’ll take you to get it cut, okay?” I whisper to Kyro in a low voice. He nods his head and smiles.
“Where’s your brothers?” I ask, wondering why they all didn’t run to greet me like they usually do.
Kyro stiffens and looks down. The sound of Tasha and Rob laughing from their spots on the couch makes my stomach churn.
“He didn’t mean to do it,” Kyro says, the tears clear in his voice.
“Boy, stop all that damn crying,” Rob shouts at him. “You gone end up a punk with all that bitch ass crying.”
Kyro’s little body shakes as he tries to fight back his tears. I stand there, frozen in fear and powerless to do anything. Fighting back will only make things worse for the boys and Tasha can always tell me I can’t come over anymore.
That’s always my greatest fear. After I aged out of the system, she didn’t really owe me anything. She only still tolerates me because I’m always here for my brothers.
I place my hands on Kyro’s shoulders and turn him toward me.
“Show me.”
Kyro spins around and rushes back down the hall, going to the bedroom he shares with his two brothers. As soon as we walk in, the smell of urine hits my senses. Tyrie’s sheets are balled up in the middle of the floor and Mason is bent over the bed with a bucket and a brush, scrubbing the mattress.
“Mason,” I call his name and he stops, but doesn’t turn to face me. I know that sign. I’ve done it so many times I can read it like a book. I step further into the room. “Look at me,” I insist.
He turns around and my breath catches. His left eye is swollen shut and his lip is still gushing blood. I rush to him and gently place his face between my hands.
“Ro, go bring me the first aid kit.” Little Kyro rushes out of the room to get what I need.
“What happened?” I ask Mason.
A lift of his shoulder. “Rie must have had a bad dream last night, he wet the bed again. I tried to clean it before she found it, but I didn’t do it fast enough. I didn’t want her to put him in there, Bri. I fought back even though you told me not too.”
My body is shaking with rage as I listen to his story. Kyro comes back with the first aid kit and I assign him the job of cleaning his brother’s wounds. I storm out of the room and right back down the hallway into the living room.
My blood is boiling. “Where’s the key?” I say through clenched teeth.
She barely takes her eyes off of the television. She’s watching one of those judge shows she loves so much, a lit cigarette in her hand. “What you need it for?” she asks mockingly, bringing the stick to her lips and taking a long puff before releasing the smoke out her nose.
So many times as a child I wanted to claw her eyes out. I had dreams of being older and finally being able to whoop her ass and make her choke on that damn cigarette. Unfortunately, because of the boys, I’m just as powerless now as I was then.
“You know why,” I say through gritted teeth.
She finally turns to me, those dark eyes covered in her fake long lashes. “He’s not done serving his time.”
So many things come to mind to say to her, but I can’t because, again, she has all the power. My hands fist at my sides as I think of how to win this battle.
“What do you want?” That’s the only language she understands. Not sympathy, not kindness, not even normal human decency, just what she can get out of a situation.
She smirks at me. “My light bill is $150. It’s due tomorrow.”
I don’t even stop to think about it. I spin around on my heels and storm back into the bedroom I’ve been borrowing for the last few days and go into my stash. I’m trying to save money. I have that checklist.
Getting a decent job is one thing on the list. Saving enough money to get a big place is another. However, every time I have to go into my secret stash, I get further and further away from checking that off my list.
I count out one hundred and fifty dollars and rush back into the living room. I walk over to Tasha and hold the cash out to her. She looks up at me and stares. Not making a move to take the money, wasting precious time. I shake the cash in her face, telling her without saying the words to take the damn money.
She snatches it out of my hand and then pulls a single key out of her bra strap. I take the key from her before she can even hold it out to me. I rush into the kitchen and quickly fumble with the large lock on the door.
The closet is meant to be a pantry, but not in this house. In this house, it’s a prison within a prison. Not wide enough to stretch out in and barely big enough to sit down. Plus, its pitch black. No light penetrates the dark closet. For me it was torture, but for someone with Tyrie’s issues, it’s pure hell.
I can already hear his cries and the banging of his head against the back wall. I finally get the lock to work and quickly open the door. Tyrie is having a full-on breakdown.
His arms and legs fly everywhere, one even smacks me in the face. I don’t mind. I gently call his name, making sure not to be too loud. Eventually my voice breaks through his haze, wide doe-shaped eyes focus on me and that smile—the one I love, the one I would die for, spreads across his face.
“Bee,” he shouts happily as he claps.
No matter what this kid goes through, he never lets it keep him down. Always so willing to smile for me.
“Hey, baby.” My voice breaks.
Although Tyrie is older than Kyro, mentally he’s the youngest. Tyrie suffered from mental delays, the doctor’s say it’s a side effect of his mother’s poor choices while pregnant with him.
He’s a tall eleven-year-old, but mentally he’s about five. He has a few sensory issues as well. And things like being locked in confined spaces is hard for him.
“Come on out, okay. I want to put you in the bathtub.” He still reeks of urine and I’m not sure if it’s because he had an accident last night or from being locked in the closet for God knows how long.
“Okay, Bee.” He climbs out of the closet slowly. I back up while he stands to his feet.
All three boys are biracial. That’s obvious by their golden complexion and curly hair, but Tyrie is the only one with blue eyes. And his curls are a lot looser than his brothers’. His are more of a deep wave than a curl and the golden-brown undertone to his chocolate brown hair makes it look as if he has blonde highlights.
I hold out my hand for Tyrie, allowing him to make the decision whether he wants to be touched or not. He happily places his hand in mine as he follows me back out of the kitchen. As we enter the living room, Tasha’s voice stops me.
“I was nice the other night when I let your ass come back here, but don’t get it confused. You need to go back home tonight.”
“I can’t go back there.” She already knows this. But then again, this is typical Tasha.
“Not my problem. Your hot ass never should’ve laid down with that white boy. Now he’s going upside your head and you think you’re going to run back here? I’m not your mama.”
As if I could ever confuse her with any form of motherly
figure.
“If you kept your smart ass mouth shut, he wouldn’t have to put you in your place. Besides,” she pauses in her hurtful speech to take a puff of her cigarette. “You should be glad somebody want you. I don’t know what he sees in your little ugly black ass.” She chuckles at her own insult.
“I know what he sees,” Rob adds, his eyes on my body making me feel like I need a hot shower, in lava.
“Boy, a man can get that anywhere,” Tasha says with a sneer.
Her words, although hurtful, aren’t new to me. Since I first came to her at nine-years-old, she has reminded me of my unattractiveness. It was as if her main purpose in life was to teach me that I was unlovable. My nose is too big, my hair too nappy, my skin too dark, even my lips are too big for her. She takes great pride in reminding me of my inadequacies.
“I just need a little time to find my own place. That’s all I’m asking you for.” I try pleading, but I know it won’t work. “Besides, I got the job today, so I’ll barely even be here. I just need one more night. After that, you won’t see me, and I can start paying a little in rent.” It would be harder for me to save up and get that place I need, but anything to keep me from going back to that house for even a second.
She tosses her head back and laughs. “With that little piece of shit job? Honey, I make more money than you do on my days off. I don’t need your little money.”
“I know that’s right, Mama,” Rob agrees.
At least I have a job. He hasn’t been able to hold one down longer than a few months all his life. Even though I want to tell them both off, I don’t comment.
Of course, she makes more money than me. With her salary job as an RN at the hospital and the money she gets for fostering the boys, she doesn’t need any help. However, poor money management and expensive taste keeps her hands in my pocket.
That’s why I don’t argue with her because I know she will take the offer. “But I guess,” she says just like I knew she would. “I can let you stay. But your first check comes to me.”