by Amy Marie
Amy Marie and Lisa, SaSS was not only my first signing as a reader and author, it has become my favorite and my must attend every year. You put on an amazing event. You encourage authors and support us, and I love you for that. Thank you for including me in this anthology and for taking the chance on an author who in 2016 had one book published.
Maggie and Linda, my friends and the Thelma to my Louise. Thank you for your encouragement, your talks, and for beta reading for me. I can’t wait to see what trouble we can get into together at SaSS!
Ashlee, my #pic4ever. Thank you for listening to me and allowing me to vent. You’ve been in my corner and I’m so glad we’ve met. You are fabulous!!
Joyce, my best friend. Thank you for always being there. These last ten years haven’t been the easiest for me, but you’ve always stuck by me, and kicked my butt when I needed it too. Thank you. I love you. Here’s to 30 more years as friends.
My readers, wow! You rock!! I wouldn’t be here doing this if it wasn’t for you. I love all of you, and I can’t wait to see what happens next. Are you ready?
Bloggers, thank you for everything. It would be so much harder to spread the word without you. Your support is greatly appreciated.
Love Seekers, I love you guys!! Let’s keep up the party.
About Maria Vickers
Maria Vickers is an international bestselling and award-winning author who currently resides in St. Louis, MO with her pug, Spencer Tracy. She has always had a passion for writing and after she became disabled in 2010, she decided to use writing as her escape. She believes that life is about what you make of it, you have to live it to the fullest no matter the circumstances.
From a young age, she has always loved books and even dreamed of being an author when she was younger. Growing up in the Navy, she used to weave tales for her siblings and her friends about anything and everything. And when she wasn't creating her own stories, she had a book in her hand. They transported her to another world. With her books, he hopes her readers have the same experience, and that they can relate to her characters.
Getting sick changed her life forever, but it also opened doors for her that she thought would always be out of reach.
AUTHOR LINKS:
Reader Group:
https://www.facebook.com/groups/1362108480474447/
Also By Maria Vickers
MF Novels
Another Chance
Love Seekers Series
Exposed: Book One of the Love Seekers
Redeemed: Book Two of the Love Seekers
Claimed: Book Three of the Love Seekers
Siren’s Song
MM Novels
By the Book
Off-Campus Setup
Unbreak Me
(see With Love From New Orleans, Found You, for the side story to this book)
Anthologies
Live Again (An MM contemporary romance novella)
Appearing in Tempting Fate Anthology
Benefiting Cancer Research Institute
A Flashy and Frosty Christmas
(4 flash fiction stories)
Benefiting Cancer Research Institute
Kisses in the Snow (An MM contemporary romance novella)
Appearing in With Love From London
Found You (An MM contemporary romance novella)
Side story to Unbreak Me
Appearing in With Love From New Orleans
Irish Wishes (An MM contemporary romance novella)
Side story to Kisses in the Snow
Appearing in With Love From Dublin
All I Want Is You (An MM contemporary romance novella)
Appearing in With Love From Venice, Christmas
Whiskey Love (An MF historical romance novella)
Appearing in Feisty Heroines
The Brauds (A comedy about three old women who know how to have a good time)
Available on Book Funnel, but you must preorder Feisty Heroines to receive
Part Sixteen
Diamond in the Rough by M.E. Montgomery
An Aladdin Retelling
Chapter 1
Oli
"Please, can't I come home with you, Oli?"
I looked down at the sweet face that matched the voice. "Soon," I promised. Hell if I knew what "soon" meant, though.
"Leave him alone, Jilly. He didn't want us then, and he doesn't want us now. Besides, he's an orphan just like us, and a thief. They’re never gonna let him have us."
I saw the blaze in his eyes and knew he was trying to buy into the lie he told. It was defense mechanism 101.
Jilly looked up at me, her teeth biting into her lower lip in a way that I knew meant she was fighting tears. But she knew that tears didn't make a difference in a world like ours. It showed weakness, even at her tender age of eight.
"You shut up, Jack. You're a meanyhead, and you're wrong. Right, Oli?"
I glared at her older brother, but he just shrugged and stared at the ground. Jack was already more cynical than most adults five times his age. Then again, one didn't often reach preadolescence with a positive outlook on life after living on the streets or being bounced from foster home to foster home every few months.
Kneeling in front of Jilly, I pretended to squish her soft cheeks with my palms. "I'm trying, Jillybean. Hopefully, soon." I poked her belly, making her squeal. "Remember what I promised you last time?"
A smile broke through, like the sun on a cloudy day. She bounced on her toes. "Show me! Show me!"
I reached into the pocket of my sweatshirt and pulled out three spongy red balls and placed them in her outstretched hands. "Okay, watch close." I bit back a grin as Jack moved closer, too. "I'm going to make them disappear one by one."
I picked them up one at a time in my right hand. "Here's one, and here's two. I'm going to put this third one in my pocket." I used my left hand to put it in my pocket. Then I spread my right fingers open.
"There's all three!" Jilly shouted, all bug-eyed.
"What?" I looked at my hand, perplexed. "Let's try that again," I repeated the count, including putting one in my pocket again. Then spread my fingers.
"There's still three! Your magic is growing, Oli!" Jilly's enthusiasm spread through me like a warm drink on a cold day. "Do it slowly."
I pretended to ponder the idea, then nodded. I repeated the illusion, slower. This time, only one showed in my right hand. Both kids leaned in close, noting one red ball in my pocket.
"Hmm. You lost one. You must have done something wrong," Jilly said, frowning. Her hands perched on her hips. "You just need to practice some more."
I raised my eyebrows, allowing a red ball to come out of my mouth. I scratched my head. “Hey, how’d that get in there?”
She giggled, and even Jack cracked a smile.
Jilly wrapped her small fingers around my hand and rested her head against my stomach. "You're the best, Oli."
Heartstrings that I thought were severed long ago grew back when I'd met these two kids a couple of years ago. Her words tugged at them now. I wished harder than ever that I was able to do more; that I was more than just a street kid so I could give them a better life. But it seemed no matter how hard I tried, I could never get far enough ahead—one step forward, two steps backward, and all that.
The front lights came on at the house behind us. Jilly froze. Jack frowned. It was the signal that our time was up.
"Hey," I said, squatting down again in front of the young girl. "Would you rather have a monkey's tail or an elephant's trunk?" I asked, relying on a game I played with her and Jack anytime things got a little tough, or they needed a distraction. It was easy to let your imagination fly when you had nothing else to play with. I hoped nobody was watching as I flung my arm in front of my nose and brayed like an elephant. Her laughter had me follow up by tickling my armpits while I hunched over and danced in a circle.
It worked. Jilly clutched her tummy laughing, and even Jack gave me a crooked smile, the gap between his teeth showing. I made
a mental note to ask Lorena if the kids had been to the dentist lately.
"A monkey," Jilly cried. "So I can climb out my window and swing by my tail in the trees, and no one could catch me."
I laughed for her sake, but her honesty killed me just a little. If I could grant her that wish so she could be free of the home that she was in, I would.
I'll work harder, Jilly. I promise. Hopefully, soon I won’t have to leave you.
'Your turn," I reminded her.
"Hmm," she put her finger to her mouth and jutted her hip out with one hand perched upon it. "Would you rather have a jelly doughnut or a chocolate eclair?" she asked.
I grinned. Jilly’s questions often revolved around sweet treats that they rarely received.
"That's easy," I said. "A jelly doughnut."
Her nose wrinkled. "I'd rather have the eclair. Chocolate always wins."
I tapped her nose. "And that's why I'd rather have the jelly doughnut."
She beamed as she wrapped her thin arms around my legs. "You'll visit again soon, won't you, Oli?"
I made myself smile despite the fear I heard in her voice. "You know it. Next week, okay?"
"Jack. Jill. Inside now, please."
We all turned toward the flat voice that called from the sidewalk that led from the grassy yard to the house. It looked nice enough from the outside, and I supposed it was, considering it was a residential house for kids who had nowhere else to go.
I fist-bumped Jack. "Later, dude."
"Later," he mumbled and headed down the sidewalk, but turned back quickly to give me the fastest hug on record. I loved it anyway.
Bolstered by the rare show of affection, I followed them down the sidewalk to the front door where Lorena, the headmistress, stood aside for Jack and Jilly to move in, then blocked the door with her arms crossed, her usual scowl as my greeting.
"You know you can't come in, Oliver. You've got zero rights."
I wasn't intimidated. "You don't have to remind me how it goes."
"Then you'll be on your way." She stepped back, but she's no match for the arm I put up to prevent her from closing the door.
At her alarmed look, I softened my tone. "I just want to make sure they're doing okay, keeping their grades up, and behaving. Have they been to the dentist?" All my worries rushed out in one breath.
Lorena glared. "I know what I’m doing. I don't need you to tell me how to do my job."
I rubbed my hand through my hair and hoped my frustration got carried away on the long breath I blew out. "I know you do, Rena. I care about those kids, okay? I'm all they've got outside of this place."
She relented. "They’re doing fine, Oliver. You did the right thing reporting them." She gave me a pointed look. "They're better off here than other places, like the streets. You should know that of all people. They’re lucky to be here."
I coughed back a snort. Still, I couldn't afford to piss her off and have my visiting days revoked.
"Okay, Rena. Thanks for keeping an eye on them. Have a good evening." I turned and headed back to my beater of a car, wondering just how much "luckier" any of us could get.
Chapter 2
Oli
Defining moments. We've all had them.
I'm not talking about simple choices, like where to go for dinner or what college to attend. Those are choices we create. No, I'm talking about the kind we have no control over. The profoundly personal type that forces us to choose a path, a path that might mean deciding between the greater of two goods or the lesser of two evils. Those are the moments that define who we are.
I know I'm not the smartest person. Hell, I only got my GED a couple of years ago. I'm also no philosopher. But living a nomadic life has given me a lot of chances to see things from a different—I'd even say unhindered—perspective. It's taught me more than I ever learned from any school or book.
So, here's my two cents. I think we all start off life like diamonds found in dark, dank mines; stones so rough, raw, and unrefined they'd be given little to no notice by most people. But defining moments sharpen and shape us, much like a gemcutter grinds and polishes the dull stone until the final sparkling gem is produced—or cracked.
We all began our life journey with such a moment. We didn't have a choice in who our parents were, what kind of home they had, how much money they earned, or even if we were born to people who wanted us.
No choice. Boom. It's just there.
For me, that meant being born to a single mother and left orphaned when I was only eight. That sucked. But the event paved a new path that allowed me to learn what endurance and determination were at an early age.
The next moment came when at seventeen, I decided I’d had enough of being my foster dad’s whipping boy and determined I was better on my own. I took off across the country, hitchhiking, or just plain old hiking until I needed to work for some more money. Eventually, I saved enough to get an old Jeep Renegade that took me even further.
I’d learned a lot over those years: how to lay flooring, paint houses, replace roofs—anything that allowed me to be paid in cash and didn’t require anything other than a good work ethic and strong muscles. When I got the urge, I moved on to somewhere else.
Most of my life at that point was just a series of choices—drive right, turn left, stay, go…until a buddy I’d made at my latest stop found out his mom was sick. I made the journey back with him to Boston, and that’s where my next significant defining moment happened.
2 years ago…
“What’s wrong, Abby?”
Anytime I was away, Abby stayed inside the tent, an excellent deterrent to anyone who thought to help themselves to either it or my thermal sleeping bag inside. Anything else that was of value, like food and my propane cooking supplies, stayed locked in my Jeep. Today when I’d returned from my job moving shit around in a warehouse, she’d skipped over my usual greeting of licks and wrestling to dart to a cardboard box a few yards from my tent that hadn’t been there when I left this morning.
Abby pawed at the box. I heard a small whimper from inside. Thinking it might be a pup that had gotten trapped or even trashed with the box, I gingerly unfolded the flaps in case it was some other kind of critter.
“Whoa! What the hell?”
Nothing could have prepared me for the kind of critter it was—kids. Two of them, huddled inside, staring back at me with wide eyes.
Shit. I didn’t need this kind of trouble. Part of me wanted to just close the flaps and disappear in my tent. I wasn’t equipped for this. Rescuing a pup was one thing. Rescuing kids was another. My first thought was to call the police, but I lived in a tent community under a bridge on the outskirts of the city. We did our best to stay off the radar of the authorities. In return, they did their best to ignore us because even though camping here wasn’t legal, it was a lot of paperwork and a PR nightmare for them to clear us out.
But I remembered my own situation, part of a foster family that didn’t “foster” anything kind. Calling the police might mean sending them back to a similar situation. The other thought was that they were just a typical young runaway kid scenario—mad at the parents, a little pissy, a lot pouting—and they'd head home before nightfall.
I looked at the ground and scratched my head, thinking through all of my potential options.
“You may as well come out. No point in hiding if someone knows where you are.”
They crept out, never taking their eyes off of me. Each was careful to cling to backpacks that looked stuffed, probably with clothes and some food. But obviously not enough to last long.
Sighing, I decided to handle first things first. I turned and went into my three-man tent and pulled my chair outside as well as my camping table. Two pairs of eyes watched as I unrolled the table and deliberately set it up within their view. After grabbing some food from my car, I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, hoping they weren’t allergic. PB&J was my staple since it was cheap and lasted longer than most other options.
I made two more while I took a couple bites of mine. I held one out toward them. “Mmm. So good.”
The girl was so focused on the sandwich I’m not even sure she realized she was moving toward it. When she reached my table, I pushed the paper plate with the offering toward her. “Go on. It’s really good. Promise.” I grabbed a bottle of water and opened it for her as she chowed down.
I picked up the second plate and held it toward the boy. At first, he scowled and refused to take it. He had pride. I understood that. But pride didn't fill an empty stomach, and if he wanted to be stupid and stubborn, that was on him. He’d learn soon enough. I was about to offer it to Abby when he snatched it out of my hand and wolfed it down, probably faster than Abby could have.
They didn’t talk much in the beginning. After they’d eaten, the girl kept inching closer to my dog.
"Her name's Abby," I said as if it was no big deal to have two kids drop by my tent.