The Damned

by Jennifer Snyder

  Maybe this is what shock feels like.

  We paused once we reached a cruiser I presumed was his. The officer leaned against it and folded his massive arms over his chest. I glanced around, unable to look him in the eye. The way I was standing made the sunlight beat down on me, blinding me from being able to see all the neighbors outside their houses bearing witness to the craziness that was my life. It was probably a good thing, because I didn’t need to see the smug sense of satisfaction I was sure was written all over their faces. I was positive each of them felt this moment had been a long time coming.

  “I’m sure this is a lot to take in, but I want to be straight with you about a few things,” the officer started. I shifted my eyes to his and stared. “Your mother is being arrested for prostitution. We’ve been keeping an eye on her for a while and finally had grounds to bust her this afternoon. We also had a tip come through recently about her possibly selling narcotics. When we entered the premises with our K-9 unit, he found a stash of things in her bedroom hidden underneath a loose floorboard.” He paused, and I got the impression he was waiting for me to say something.

  What could I say though? No, none of that was hers, it was all mine? Fuck no.

  My heart hammered in my chest as I continued to stare into the officer’s eyes. He sighed and then continued.

  “How old are you?”

  “Seventeen.”

  His lips drew together into a thin line, leaving me wondering where this conversation was headed. Obviously, it couldn’t be anywhere good. “Is there a relative or someone you could call who might be able to take you in?”

  Take me in? What the hell?

  “Um, I don’t know. Why?”

  “You’re not eighteen yet, and I doubt you’re emancipated. If you were, I don’t think you’d be living in this dump with her. Am I right?” His tone wasn’t mocking or full of hatred; it was sad and concerned, like my home life tore him up inside.

  Fucker.

  Things were bad, yeah, but I knew they could always be worse. My eyes drifted across the street to where Julie’s husband, Nick, used to live. I hadn’t been beaten, not like he had been every day of his life by his alcoholic father. While it was true that sometimes I went without food, and my mother danced around a pole for a living to keep a roof over our head and the power turned on, things could have always been a hell of a lot worse.

  Screw him and his sympathy.

  “You’re right. I wouldn’t be here if that was the fucking case,” I muttered.

  He scowled at my word choice, which only made me want to grin, but I didn’t.

  “The state will want to put you into custody until you turn eighteen if you don’t have a relative willing to take over legal guardianship.” He laid it all out for me.

  Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all; he was just being honest. I could respect a man for not bullshitting me.

  “Ten months, that’s how long I have,” I insisted.

  “Ten months can seem like an eternity in the system, I’m sure.” He scratched his head as though he were thinking of how to get me out of this jam personally. Who knew, maybe he could relate. “Make a few phone calls and see if you can stay with an aunt or uncle, grandparent maybe? Or better yet, where’s your dad?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  I never knew who my father was—Charlotte Porter didn’t keep track of the guys she slept with over the years, so none of us knew who our fathers were. We’d been blessed with her last name because it was the only one she knew to be legit when it came to putting it on our birth certificates. As for grandparents, aunts, or uncles, I didn’t even know if I had any. We’d never had family cookouts, birthday events, or holiday parties, so who knew if those people even existed or knew that we did.

  That left me with two people I could call—Logan and Julie. Fuck, I was screwed.

  I dug my cell out of my pocket and set my Walmart bag on the grass. Flopping down beside it, I stared at my phone. The officers finally dragged my mother outside to stow her in the back of a cruiser. I watched her struggle with them while I debated whom I should call first.

  “I’ll give you a minute,” the officer standing above me said. “I’m gonna go fill out my paperwork and let the others know what’s going on.” He flashed me a sympathetic smile I was sure he’d meant to seem reassuring before he walked away.

  Resting my forearms against my knees, I cradled my cell in my hands while I continued to debate who to call first. I had numbers for both, but it had been months since I’d talked to either. Hell, it could have been a year now that I thought about it. Dread pooled in my stomach, hot and thick, as I wondered if either of their numbers still worked.

  Holy fuck, what the hell was I going to do?

  Scrolling through my contacts, I pulled in a deep breath and exhaled slowly as I tapped on my brother’s name. It rang about four times before he finally picked up.

  “Hello?”

  “Logan? Hey.” Swallowing hard, I fought past my nerves, praying to gather enough strength to ask what needed to be asked. “How’s it going?”

  Logan was the oldest. He was five years older than I was, and it had been that long since I’d last seen him too. The day he turned eighteen, he left Harper without looking back. It was sort of a family tradition, I guess, considering my sister had done the same.

  “Cole? Hey, um what are you calling for?” He sounded confused, and I didn’t blame him. We hadn’t spoken in what felt like forever. He probably didn’t even recognize my voice.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” I managed to squeeze out. Positive he could hear the panic in my voice, I cleared my throat before I continued. “Mom got herself tossed into jail. I don’t know yet for how long, but I was calling because I need a place to stay.”

  There, the words were out. I closed my eyes while I listened to the silence on the other end of the phone, praying he would say he’d come get me. I didn’t want to have to call Julie and go through this again. Logan sighed, and I knew what he was going to say before the words passed his lips. He didn’t want me.

  “We all knew something like this would happen one day,” he started. “I guess I can say I’m glad it’s just jail and not her dead in a damn ditch somewhere, but…”

  And there it was, the inevitable but I had been waiting on.

  “I just, I can’t take you in right now. Marissa and I just had Tyler. It’s not a good time. We’re trying to figure out how to raise a baby, and I can’t be adding more stress to her or me by raising a teenager too. I don’t make enough at my job as it—”

  “No, that’s fine. I get it,” I cut him off. I didn’t need to hear all his lame ass excuses for why he couldn’t let me stay with him for ten fucking months. “Congrats on the baby, bro. I had no idea.”

  I was an uncle. What a shitty way to find out. I stared into the distance, absorbing the fact that my brother was kicking me to the curb.

  “I’m sorry, Cole. I would if I could, but I can’t right now.” His words were more to ease his conscience than to make me understand. I knew this.

  “I get it. Don’t worry. I’ll call Julie. I’ll see if her and Nick can let me stay with them for a while.” Surprisingly, I was able to keep all my bitterness toward him from lacing my words and sound halfway normal. “If not, I’ll just have to go into the state’s custody for a little while. No biggie. Couldn’t be as bad as this place was, right?” I chuckled, but it was forced.

  I was pissed. Hurt. Feeling betrayed.

  “Yeah, that’ll work. I’m sure Julie will let you stay with them for a while,” Logan insisted. “Call me if it doesn’t pan out with her though, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  Fat chance that shit was ever happening. If it didn’t work out, I’d lie and claim I found somewhere to go before disappearing. There was no way in hell I was going into the damn foster system.

  “Sure,” I gritted out. “See ya.” I hung up before Logan had a chance to answer.

  Wiping my nose with the bac
k of my hand, I flipped my phone around between my fingers while attempting to gather up enough nerve to call my sister. What would I do if she turned me away too?

  “Did you get a hold of anyone yet, kid?” the officer who had been standing with me moments ago asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah, I did. I still have one more call to make though.”

  “That’s fine, take your time.”

  As soon as he turned his back to me, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply before tapping on Julie’s name.

  CHAPTER SIX

  EMORY

  The night air was chilly. The tip of my nose was cold, but my insides were burning with warmth. Whatever was in that fruity drink was like liquid heat, and I loved it.

  “Hey, there you are.” Tara sat beside me on the stump I had been sitting on while pretending to follow the lame story Craig Hewitt was telling. “I was wondering where you disappeared to. Did Sam ever come back?”

  “Nope.” I made the P pop as I said the word, and then shifted to face her. My hair fell over my shoulder, creating a curtain to hide me from everyone else’s prying eyes. The plastic smile I forced onto my face out of habit fell from my lips. I didn’t have to pretend anymore. Tara knew that I was upset, and she wasn’t waiting in the wings to gloat over my letdown like all the other girls. “I didn’t think he would.”

  “He will. Don’t worry. He was totally into you.” She nudged me with her elbow.

  Sighing, I sipped the remainder of my drink and leaned my head against her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t have worked between us anyway. I don’t have time for guys. You know that. My mother is a total control freak. She would make sure I didn’t have time for whomever I was dating, especially someone like Sam. Plus there’s gymnastics, which pretty much consumes all my free time anyway.”

  “Why especially someone like me?” Sam’s familiar voice met my ears.

  I flinched and turned to see him standing behind me. His hands were shoved deep into the front pockets of his dark jeans, and there was a sly smile twisting the corners of his lips. Tara stood, giving him access to where she had been sitting.

  “I’ll let you two talk…or whatever.” She wiggled her eyebrows in a suggestive manner at me the moment she crossed behind Sam to leave. I attempted to roll my eyes, but it felt awkward since my face was tingly from the alcohol.

  Sam moved to sit on the stump with me. His arm and leg brushed against mine in the process, eliciting those same crazy feeling sparks from before.

  “You gonna answer my question?” he asked, that smirk of his never once wavering.

  I stared at him, zeroing in on the bright green flecks in his hazel eyes, but I didn’t speak. How could I tell him the main reason my mother would forbid me from dating him was because he was too good-looking—in a grungy, rebellious sort of way that screamed teen angst and sex all at the same time?

  “She just won’t like you,” I blurted, hoping the answer would suffice. The alcohol I had consumed so far seemed to have removed my filter. I chewed my bottom lip and then backtracked. “Don’t take it personal. You’re a great guy. She hasn’t ever liked anyone I attempted to date. Not that we’re dating or anything.” I clamped my lips shut and stared at him, embarrassed by the fact that I had said something so bold. “I’m just saying she doesn’t like me dating. Boys are distracting. That’s her philosophy. I have my whole life to date, but only right now to get a good start on becoming an educated, well-rounded person who is successful. This is the beginning of a forever type thing, and I can’t screw it up by shifting my focus…at least that’s the speech I always seem to get.” My eyes dipped to my empty cup, and suddenly, I was thinking one more round of whatever the red stuff was didn’t sound half-bad.

  “Well.” Sam sighed. “Sounds pretty intense living with her.”

  “It is,” I insisted, still staring into the emptiness of my cup. No other word would better describe my mother than intense.

  Silence built between us. Sam moved beside me to straighten his legs in front of him. The entire upper portion of his leg was now pressed against my thigh. I focused on the heat that spread from the area and charged the butterflies in my stomach with so much energy their wings were flapping rapidly.

  “Sorry I left earlier,” Sam whispered.

  “That’s okay.” It wasn’t okay, but I couldn’t say that. I couldn’t tell him how miserable he had made me feel in those minutes after he walked away with Mallory in his arms. “So, what happened with Mallory? Did you help get her home okay?”

  “Yeah, I did.” He nodded. “Snuck her back into her pool house just fine.”

  “Good.” The word came out sounding soft and sweet. I was glad, because I hadn’t wanted the jealously and hurt I still felt from him ditching me to reflect in my tone.

  “I hated leaving you though.” His words took me by surprise and forced the breath from my lungs, shocking me into a new type of silence. They had been so honest, so raw. “Here I was practically begging Tara to get you here, and then I drop you at the snap of a finger to help my ex get home.” He shook his head, obviously disappointed with himself and his actions.

  While I honestly hadn’t expected him to come back to the party at all after taking Mallory home, I surely never expected him to apologize and mean it.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t mind.” This time the words were less of a lie than before. I felt bad for him, and the way he was beating himself up, but happy at the same time.

  “No, it’s not. Don’t lie. You hated it. You had to have.” That same sly grin from earlier spread across his face. Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, Sam pulled me into him. His finger stroked against my arm, and I wondered where those three girls were now. I wanted them to see me in Sam’s arms again. I wanted them to know that he had come back for me. “Can I get you a refill?”

  Tapping my fingertips against the plastic cup in my hands, I debated whether it was a good idea. I had already rounded the corner of tipsy, and I didn’t want to press my luck by hitting wasted, but when would I ever get this moment again? When would I ever be able to sit in the middle of the night with Sam Preston at my side?

  Most likely never.

  “Sure, I’ll have a little more.” I stood and walked with him to the large bucket near a few coolers sitting in the sand.

  Handing him my cup, I watched his every move like a stalker. He poured one ladle in and then handed it back to me, before moving to a cooler and retrieving another bottleneck beer. Music from a vehicle somewhere turned on, mixing with the station already streaming from the house. Loud shouts of excitement for the song playing floated along the ocean breeze.

  “Wow, that thing was full a little while ago.” Sam nodded toward the cooler. “There’s hardly any left now.”

  This was when things would crank up a notch. Most likely there would be a fight, hearts would be broken as boyfriends with wondering eyes strayed, and girls with a desire for attention would strip.

  My lips formed a frown as I thought all of this, and an antsy feeling swarmed my insides. I was so out of place. Parties weren’t my scene.

  “Let’s move over this way and sit back to watch the show. I’m sure things are about to get interesting around here,” Sam suggested.

  Nodding, I followed him down to some tables and chairs by the shore. The alcohol in my system made it hard for me to walk normal though, and I nearly tripped twice. Sam reached out and wrapped his arm around me, securing me against his body.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten you that refill.” He grinned. “Are you going to be okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Untangling myself from him, I slid into one of the chairs and refused to meet his stare as my stomach churned. I should have eaten dinner, because suddenly my stomach was protesting against all the sweet-tasting alcohol sloshing around in it.

  “You sure?” His words were wrapped in concern.

  I took a sip to prove my case. The liquid felt as though it hit my stomach instantaneously, meeting with the re
st I had already consumed and burning like acid. When my eyes lifted to look at Sam, he was staring at me.

  “Damn, for being such a tiny little thing, you sure can drink.”

  Tiny little thing? Sam thought of me as tiny? I’d gained weight since he last saw me at school. Couldn’t he tell? “I guess I can.”

  My mind was fuzzy and numb. My heart was light and happy. My lips were tainted with the sweetness of the fruity alcohol blend. I couldn’t hold my alcohol; I hardly ever drank. That was Chelsea’s thing, not mine.

  Chelsea, what would she do in a moment like this?

  I leaned forward and pressed my lips to Sam’s, knowing that was exactly what my sister would do if she were in this position. My lips brushed against his in a far slower pace than I wanted them to, but it still was perfect. When I leaned back and glanced into his eyes, I could see just how much he had enjoyed my movement, and it made me dive in for round two.

  Before long, I had lost myself in the feel of his lips against mine. Our breaths mingled as his hands roamed across my scorching skin. My body responded to his touch with a sensation that clouded my mind more than any ounce of alcohol floating through my system ever could.

  Blocking everything around us out, I submerged myself in Sam Preston and allowed his rough, artsy hands to sweep over my skin in ways no guy’s had in months.

  For a single moment, I was free. Thank you, Sam.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  COLE

  The phone rang for so long I assumed it would go to voicemail any second. I was just about to hang up when Nick’s voice answered on the other end.

  “Hello?”

  Snapping my eyes open, I licked my lips before speaking. “Hey, Nick, it’s Cole.”

  “Um, hey. How’s it goin’?” A slight tremor in his words let me know how shocked he was I was calling.

  “Been better honestly,” I admitted with a sigh. I had always liked Nick. Hell, I respected the shit out of him for dealing with the things he had growing up and still managing to turn out as good as he did. “Is Julie around?”