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Gavin's Song: A Last Rider's Trilogy (Road to Salvation Book 1)

Page 11

by Jamie Begley


  When the sheriff would have reached for the trash bag, Ginny jerked it away.

  “I can carry it,” she snapped.

  “All right.” The sheriff opened the door and went through it.

  “Don’t you want to say good-bye to the boys?” Silas asked huskily.

  Ginny encased her emotions in steel. This wasn’t the first time she had to leave her family behind—Manny, Trudy, her dad, Leah. She didn’t have another good-bye in her.

  Dry-cheeked, she went out the door, determined not to break when her little brothers came out onto the porch, crying for her.

  She didn’t look back, carrying her bag to the car and opening the back door, she tossed the bag inside before getting in and closing the door. She didn’t even look out the car window when Ezra, Jacob, and Jody started banging on the glass beside her as the sheriff got in the car.

  She also didn’t look back when she heard Silas and Isaac tell the boys to get back to let the car pull out.

  “Ginny, it’s going—”

  “Don’t talk to me ever again. I hate you.”

  She did look in the rearview mirror as he drove away to the sounds of her brothers’ yells following.

  Numbly, she stared out the window as the trees passed outside, burying the echoing sound of their childish voices deep in her memory. Like she had the sound of her dad’s and Leah’s laughter. Like she had the sound of Trudy’s voice before the plane had crashed.

  When the car stopped, she looked out at the house the sheriff parked in front of.

  “This is it. Your new home.”

  Unbuckling the seatbelt, Ginny opened the door, then took her bag. She got out as the sheriff came around the front of the car.

  Slamming the door, she didn’t look back at the car, or at the shiny cell phone she left behind.

  Chapter Twelve

  Staring at the bare pink wall, Ginny sat cross-legged on her bed, listening to music as she did her homework. One thing was sure, she wasn’t going to college. She hated school. It wasn’t that she couldn’t do the work, but she definitely wasn’t the brightest bulb in her class.

  Nibbling on her lip, she looked at the jumble of numbers that she couldn’t make any sense of, despite using formulas the teacher had taught them to use.

  Brushing a wisp of her brown hair back, she was about to work on the problem again when her bedroom door was opened.

  Veiling her eyes with her lashes, she hid the dislike she felt for her foster mother.

  “Dinner’s ready.”

  Ginny wasn’t fooled by the plastic smile the woman gave her. Lisa West was beautiful, had a handsome husband, and lived in a gorgeous home, but there was something missing from the woman and Ginny couldn’t figure out what it was.

  As angry as she was the first day, she had been polite when the sheriff introduced her to Lisa and Dalt West. Their smiles had blinded her at first, because they had been so friendly. Lisa had even placed a motherly arm around her as she led her up the stairs to her new bedroom. It had been so long since she experienced a mother’s touch that the simple gesture nearly had her breaking down in tears.

  The bedroom that Lisa guided her into was three times the size of the one she left behind. Decorated in pale pink and white, it had a huge bed with a canopy hanging down from overhead, the white filmy curtain twining around the four bedposts. It was a fairy tale bedroom that little girls dreamed about.

  Ginny hated it.

  The room was picture-perfect. In a magazine, it would get oohs and ahhs, but to live in it was painful.

  “Take your shoes off. I don’t want the carpet to get dirty. From now on, when you come inside the house, place your shoes under the entry table.” The motherly tone she had greeted her with was gone.

  Briskly walking across the room, her heels sunk into the snow-white carpet as she opened the closest. “You can hang your clothes inside.” Flashes of light hit the diamond ring on her hand as she waved toward a bureau on the opposite side of the room. “You can use that for things you don’t want to put on a hanger.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She winced, folding her arms over her chest. “Call me Mrs. West or Lisa. I don’t care for ma’am.”

  “Yes, m—Mrs. West.” Ginny gripped the knot in the trash bag harder at the critical way the woman stared at her.

  “I don’t like clutter, so keep your room clean. There’s a basket in the bathroom for your dirty clothes, and in the morning, I’ll show you how I like the bed made.”

  Ginny couldn’t talk around the lump in her throat that was forming, so she gave a nod, understanding what was expected of her.

  “Dinner will be in ten minutes. Get washed up and come downstairs.” Lisa elegantly walked back to the doorway, pausing before leaving and giving her a stony glance. “One other thing, this is your room. Except the dining room for meals, you are not allowed in any other rooms, even the bathroom. You have your own, so there’s no need to use the guest’s. Do I make myself clear?”

  Ginny finally found her voice. “Yes, Mrs. West.”

  “Ten minutes,” she reminded her. “The sheriff will be staying for dinner. He wants to make sure that you’re comfortable and settled before he leaves.” Her voice got even colder. “I wouldn’t want him to take more time than he needs to assure himself you are. The sheriff is a busy man and has more important matters to contend with than catering to a twelve-year-old. Do you understand?”

  She did. If she wasn’t so angry with the sheriff at making her leave her family, she would carry her trash bag down the stairs and beg him to take her anywhere but here.

  “Yes, Mrs. West. I’ll be right down.”

  Looking back, Ginny realized it had been a stubborn mistake she was now going to have to live with for the foreseeable future.

  She had sat at the dinner table, mutely refusing to respond to any attempt the sheriff made to talk to her. She’d still been sitting at the table, staring down at a slice of pork swimming in apples, wanting to puke, when he excused himself and left her behind. He looked back, giving her time to stop him. Firming her lips, she shot him an angry look that she hoped would hurt him as much as it did her.

  The month she had lived there was miserable. The only good part of the day was school, and that wasn’t saying much.

  She missed being homeschooled by her dad. He would give them a folder at the beginning of each week and, by Friday, she would have worked through it at her own pace. The best part of it was her father sucked at math the same way she did. He had given Silas her folder to grade the math assignments, and her brother had somehow made her understand how to get the answer. The teacher at school couldn’t care less, just slashing a red mark on the top. Every red mark made her heart shrivel a little more each day. Just like the way Lisa looked and spoke to her every day.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  Her foster mother leaned against the doorjamb, folding her arms across her chest in a pose that Ginny was starting to hate as much as her. “Don’t you think it’s time you quit acting like a spoiled bitch?”

  Ginny’s mouth dropped open.

  “That’s right; I called you a bitch. If you act like one, that’s how you’ll get treated by me.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She had never been talked to like that before.

  “I’ve had it with your attitude. There’s only one bitch in this home, and sweetheart, it’s not you.”

  Her harsh remarks cut her like a knife. She wanted to snap back at the woman, but fear held her back. There was a similar gleam in Lisa’s eyes that she remembered seeing when she was younger. She instinctively closed her mouth, deciding not to provoke her, too afraid of what she would do.

  “Your teacher called me to set up a meeting with her. She’s concerned you’re failing, that you’re not making any effort to get your homework done, and when you do, it’s wrong.” Gliding across the room, she came to stand next to the bed.

  Ginny’s body was taut in fear, seeing the fury that she hadn’
t seen when she was farther away.

  Lisa curved her lips in a cruel smile. “Relax, sweetie. I won’t lay a hand on you. I may be forced to live in hillbilly central, but that doesn’t mean I have to act like they do.” Sitting down on her bed, Lisa elegantly crossed her legs as she flipped her book closed, forcing her attention on her.

  Running the pad of her thumb over polished nails, she began talking, and as she did, Ginny wanted to jump from the bed and run from the room. Fear kept her in place.

  “We need to come to an agreement. I became a foster mother for one reason, and that’s because I don’t have any of my own kids. To be blunt, there are certain invitations and functions that only parents are given. I need a child to accomplish that goal. That’s where you come in. If I can’t use you that way, you’re useless to me.

  “I wanted a much younger child. Unfortunately, I let the sheriff convince me to accept you into my home. A decision I am now regretting.”

  “I don’t like it here either.” Arching her shoulders back obstinately, Ginny tried to cover her apprehension. She didn’t want her foster mother to know how afraid of her she was. It was a hard lesson she had learned when she dealt with someone even scarier than the glamourous woman trying to intimidate her.

  “Shut up. When I want your stupid, little opinion, I’ll ask for it,” she said cuttingly, making her feel an inch small.

  “You should be kissing the ground I walk on that you’re going to get the benefit of my guidance. The best thing that ever happened to you is that I am willing to ignore that trashy”— Ginny’s hands curled into fists at her family being called trashy—“background you were born into, and you can now grow up to be a woman who can have a career you can be proud of, unlike the mother who left you to be raised by a man whose only way to make a living was to father as many children as he could. You, my dear, will not be spitting out a brat every year to earn another check.”

  Ginny lowered her lashes, concealing her distaste for the woman who thought she was better than her dad. Her dad had showered her with enough love and self-worth that she was able to see through the thrall of fear that her foster mother was trying to instill in her.

  Sliding off the bed, Ginny went to the chest to take out an armful of clothes and dumped them on the bed. She was going to the closet to get her jacket when she turned around at the sound of malicious laughter.

  “Going somewhere?”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “You might want to think about that,” she said snidely.

  “You can’t stop me. All I have to do is tell the sheriff I won’t stay here anymore.”

  Lisa shrugged. “You’re right. I’m fully aware the sheriff has a soft spot for you.”

  Ginny was feeling afraid again. Lisa was too confident that she could get her to do anything she wanted. Telling herself not to listen to her foster mother, she started edging back toward the door. It might be cold outside, but it was worth continuing without a jacket rather than listening to Lisa. She would make the sheriff get it back for her.

  “Of course, not only will the sheriff be looking for a new place for you but all those small brothers of yours.”

  “Why would he have to do that?”

  “I’ve seen your older brother around town with them hanging on his side. He seems overwhelmed right now, doesn’t he? Oh, I forgot you haven’t seen him since you left. If I noticed how hard he’s having it, then it’s only a matter of time before social services notice it also. Naturally, I would hate to involve myself in these matters, but for you, I would make an exception.”

  Lisa’s veiled threat stopped her in her tracks.

  “The sheriff won’t let you do that.”

  “How can he stop me? He has to do what the judge tells him.” Lisa tilted her head curiously. “You’re very sure the sheriff will step in. Why would he care? You’re not the only child that the court has ordered him to place.”

  Ginny trembled at the way she was looking at her.

  “I’ve seen you in the diner with him a few times after church. Now that I think of it, you also sit by him during service. Maybe I should report someone else to social services.”

  Sickened at what Lisa was implying, Ginny wanted to run from the room and never see her again, but she knew if she did, Lisa would vindictively take it out on the sheriff and Silas.

  “I hate you.”

  The woman lifted her lips in a satisfied smile. “I couldn’t care less. I don’t like you either, so we’re even.” Standing, she smoothed her dress down then moved toward her to tower over her in heels that had Ginny forcing to look up at her.

  “I’m perfectly willing to call a truce. It’s all up to you. Am I going to the kitchen to get you a trash bag, or are you going to try harder to make me happy?”

  There was no way she was going to make Lisa happy unless she admitted the truth. “I’m not any good at math, no matter how hard I try.”

  “I’m not surprised. Your teacher informed me that none of the Colemans have a track record to be proud of in school. Taking that into consideration, I asked a friend of mine to tutor you. I expect you to be on your best behavior around him. Don’t disappoint me twice, Ginny. You won’t like me if you do.

  “Please brush your hair before you come down to dinner. It’s a mess.” Using a rose-tipped nail, she flicked her ponytail off her shoulder. “I’ve made an appointment for you with my hairdresser. I think a shorter cut would suit you much better.”

  Ginny worriedly touched her hair. “I like my hair long.”

  “It makes you look trashy. We’re trying to get away from that, aren’t we?”

  Only the thought of her brothers and Papa Will had her nodding her head acceptably. “Yes, Mrs. West.”

  Ginny turned to watch her foster mother leave. Then she shakily went to the bathroom to brush her hair. Dry-eyed, she looked at herself in mirror. “This all your fault,” she told her reflection. “You deserve having to live with the mean witch. I hate you so much!” She jerkily picked up her brush and pulled the comb through her hair, uncaring if she tore out strands. “She’s right; you’re stupid. So … stupid.” Over and over, she slid the brush through her hair until it lay smooth and could be pulled back into a ponytail.

  Washing her face and hands, she then reached for the hand towel that was neatly arranged by the sink. Patting her face dry, she lowered the towel, revealing her reflection again.

  “Please remember …,” she begged herself helplessly. “Please remember ….”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ginny came out of school, her heart sinking at the sight of seeing Lisa talking to the principal. She wished she could be like the other children who were lining up to get on the school buses, or the ones who were dutifully taking their turns to get in the vehicles that were in the pickup line. Lisa not only wasn’t waiting her turn in her car, but she wasn’t dressed like the other moms.

  Ginny dragged her feet forward, coming to a stop beside Lisa. She wanted to puke at the smile Lisa gave her, but instead she remained silent, waiting for the conversation to finish.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a boy come out of the door, looking as unhappy as she. It didn’t take long for her to understand why. Two older students were making fun of him as they followed him to the bus. Moses was in their class, his thin body a third of the size of one of the bullies pestering him.

  “What’s wrong, crybaby? You forget your paci?”

  Her temper flared at their jeers.

  Ginny saw the teachers in the pickup zone were making no effort to stop the hurtful behavior, so, shrugging her backpack higher on her shoulder, she moved away from her foster mother to come up behind the two bullies who were tormenting her brother.

  “Whew-ee ….” The larger of the two inclined his head within sniffing distance of Moses. “You and your brothers wash your clothes in the toilet or the pigpen?” They laughed jeeringly, both taking opposite sides of Moses to pin him between them.

  Coming alongside
of them, they didn’t notice until too late that she was witnessing each of them holding a foot out to trip him.

  She rushed forward furiously, swinging her backpack at the closest one to her.

  “Ouch!” A freckled face turned toward her in shock, his hand on the side of his face.

  “Stay away from my brother!” Running around Moses, she wildly swung her backpack at the other boy before he could run away. “You big, ugly turd. The only one that stinks is you.”

  “Ginny!”

  “Ginny!”

  Oblivious to her foster mother’s and the principal’s yell, Ginny stomped her foot at the two terrified boys, pretending she was about to hit them again.

  “My big brother will beat the ever-loving hell out of you when I tell him!”

  Stomping her foot again, she managed to whack the freckled one again on the back as he fled up the steps of the bus. She had her foot on the step to chase after him when she felt herself pulled backward from the back of her dress.

  “Stop it!” Lisa hissed in her ear. Grabbing her by the arm, she propelled her toward the school. Ginny made sure not to wince when Lisa’s nails bit into the skin she was forcibly gripping. “How dare you act like trash with everyone watching!”

  Ginny felt her hands clenching into her as they went inside. She knew she was in big trouble when Lisa didn’t stop until they were in the principal’s office and she was roughly set down in the chair facing the desk.

  “I’m so sorry, Ross!”

  Unrepentant, she let her backpack fall to the floor and stubbornly faced the two adults who made no effort to hide their disgust with the way she acted.

  Ginny didn’t care. Moses was the sweetest of her brothers. He couldn’t stand anything being hurt. Ginny couldn’t even count the number of times that he had nursed a sick animal back to health, and the animals returned the natural affinity, letting him touch them despite not knowing the touch of human hand. That two boys were preying on Moses made her sick to her stomach.

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for, Lisa. I’ve dealt with the Colemans before. I have to admit, finding out they would be entering the school system was not one of my better days.”

 

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