by Bry Ann
“We are here sir.”
Logan pulls away with a sigh.
“The joy of being parents,” I mumble.
Logan laughs as we both climb out of the car. Well, let me rephrase. His bodyguard gets out first and checks for paparazzi. Then his driver. Then Logan. Then me. It’s a whole routine every time. The sad part is I’ve gotten used to it. The whole charade I have to go through being engaged to Logan. He makes it more than worth it though. I love him, and love makes you do crazy shit. Like, sit in the car while three men check for cameras that constantly want to take pictures of me at the worst possible angle so they can criticize “Logan’s fiance”. That’s all I am to them. Logan’s fucked up, scarred fiance.
As soon as Logan rings the doorbell at Ms. Arnette’s my heart starts beating a hundred miles an hour. I have the desire to jump up and down like an idiot. Logan looks at me and laughs when he sees me bouncing on my toes like a ten-year-old. I swat his arm playfully.
“I'm excited. Shut up,” I mumble.
That earns another chuckle from him.
He’s pretty contained. His body language doesn’t reflect the excitement I know he feels. It’s always like this when he comes back from Hollywood. He’s extra contained. It’s hard to get him to let loose when he gets back. He deals with my panic attacks, so I wait patiently when he gets back from work as he begins to trust that no one is out to get him. To hurt or expose him. It kills me every time. I just want him to know he’s home and in a safe place, but he’s used to a world full of sharks and he needs his time to come to terms with home. I always give him that.
The door swings open. Logan goes straight to thank Ms. Arnette, while I put all my focus on the adorable squeaking blonde in front of me. She’s getting so big. She’s nine now. Nine! That’s so crazy. It scares me. She’s growing so fast.
“Mom! Dad!” she squeals. She runs straight into my arms and I squeeze her and rock her back and forth.
“I missed you. I missed you so much. I’m sorry you couldn’t stay.”
She pulls away and gives me an incredulous look. “Mom, I love you, but I like being with my friends. Don’t say sorry for that. I know you love me.”
I look into her sharp hazel-green eyes. She may look like Logan, but she is definitely my daughter too. I’m in awe of her independent spirit.
After we spend a few minutes catching up she walks over to hug Logan. Jazmine loves me, but Logan and she have a special bond because they only met four years ago. She waited her whole life for him. She was already five when they met, but she never gave up on him. Not once. She always believed she’d meet her dad someday. As I watch them hug I am so glad she did. I'm so glad I found that newspaper article and stormed into his office that day. It changed everything. It gave Jazmine a father.
I finally manage to step away from Jazmine and shake Ms. Arnette’s hand and thank her again. She has been a godsend in our life between her work with Dana, babysitting Jazmine and helping me with the foster home she has made our life so much easier. It means everything to us to have someone we can trust.
I crouch down in front of Jazmine. “Are you ready to meet your new brother?”
She looks at me hesitantly and then up at Logan. “I mean I’m ready, but I’m not gonna be nice just cuz he’s my brother.”
Her lisp makes the harsh statement sound so stinkin’ cute. “I’ll be nice if he is.” With that, she just struts off to the car. She waits for the driver to open the door for her.
“We are creating a monster,” I whisper as Logan laughs so hard he has to hold his stomach to catch his breath.
“Babe,” he says through his laughter. “She’s you.” He laughs even harder, to the point where tears are coming out of eyes.
“Shit,” I whisper as we walk to the car. I'm not finding it as funny as him. What if she isn’t a good person? What if she’s too spoiled? Logan grabs my hand and squeezes it.
“Sam, don’t worry. She’s a good person where it counts.”
He knows my greatest fear is fucking up our kids. I give him a grateful smile. The whole ride to the foster home Jazmine talks endlessly about her time with Ms. Arnette. I’m grateful for it. Her endless excited rambling keeps me out of my head. She’s always been my medicine. From the beginning. Even when I was a struggling single mother.
The closer we get to the foster home I reflect on that fact that this foster home is probably one of the things I am most proud of in my life. Other than Jazmine. When I die I will feel calm knowing I made this world slightly better with this home.
We pull up to the foster home thirty minutes later. Out front is a little boy in a plain white t-shirt with what I am pretty sure are blood stains on it, even though I know the staff got him all new clothes when he arrived. I make sure all the kids get new things when they arrive. It’s important they feel clean and well cared for.
He is also wearing tan sweats that are way too short for him. His socks are rolled up and sticking out from the bottom of his pants. Despite the dorky outfit and bloody shirt, he looks pretty tough. His arms are crossed over his chest, his foot is cocked to the side and his face is set in a permanent scowl.
I fall in love instantly.
“Oh God,” Logan laughs. “I’m in for it.”
I shoot him a dreamy smile.
“He looks mean,” Jazmine complains quietly.
Logan and I share a look. “Jazmine,” I lean down to her level, “Dusty has had a rough time so you have to be a little patient with him. You know how mom has these,” I point to my scars. “So does Dusty.”
Jazmine’s eyes go wide. “But… he’s so little?”
I feel my eyes tear up and I look to Logan. There is a lump in the throat. I struggle to talk. The world is so cruel. Logan see’s me and takes over.
“I know sweetie.” Jazmine looks at her dad, taking his word as authority. “So he can be a little mean sometimes, I’m assuming. You have to show him how to be nice since he never learned. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes. I’m super nice so I can show him.” She cocks her head to the side and looks at Dusty again.
Logan and I both take a deep breath before getting out of the car. We go through our whole routine, with Jazmine getting out last. I worry about Dusty in this life. Will he be able to cope with Logan’s fame? Fuck. Shit.
“You’re shaking babe,” Logan whispers.
“No, I’m not.”
Logan smiles and shakes his head.
“Okay, whatever. Remember he is an eleven-year-old.”
Right? Logan, good point. He’s eleven. Fucking eleven. I’m in charge here. I have control over how this turns out. It’s not out of my hands. I feel myself harden up, become the mother I know I am.
I walk up to Dusty first. One of our younger staff members is standing next to him. Her name is Adelyn, but she goes by Addy. She’s so adorable. I fell in love with her during the interview process. Adelyn has rose gold-colored hair. I’m not even lying. Her skin is flawless. It’s unfair. It’s the kind of skin every girl would kill for. She has this natural beauty about her. She’s deeply caring and keeps to herself when she’s not with the kids. To say she’s shy would be the understatement of the century. I’ve always suspected she has some kind of past, because she puts everything into her work. Not that working hard is bad, but for her it’s her life. I thought she was going to cry when I hired her. I still remember the moment. I freaking wanted to adopt her. I kind of have. I put her under my wing. If I get to open more foster homes like I hope I can, I’d put her in charge of one.
I sit in my chair, waiting for the next girl. I feel weird interviewing people, but I also have high standards for the people who will work with these kids. The next girl’s name is Addy, Adelyn. She’s super young. Only 21. I didn’t want to even interview this young due to lack of experience, but she put so much heart into her application I knew I had to at least give her a chance. Coming from a girl who would have killed for a chance when I was in my late teens, early
20’s I couldn’t give her a shot. People gave me one.
“Hello,” I say standing as a young girl with lightly curled rose gold hair walks in. She’s wearing hardly any makeup. In fact that only thing on her face is some light eyeshadow, but she literally looks like an angel. She’s so naturally beautiful.
“Hello Ms. Prescott,” she says with a soft, breathy voice. Her voice is shaking. She’s nervous, but I can tell by her posture she’s trying to be brave. She’s determined.
“Call me Sam,” I gesture to the couch. “Have a seat.” She tucks her light pink skirt under her and sits down.
“You’re nervous.”
“Yes. I'm sorry. I… I just really want this. I’m not very good with adults, but I love children.” She stutters and her eyebrows show how panicked she feels about the truth in what she just said. I find myself really admiring that about her.
“I suck with most all people so I get it.”
I knew then I had to hire her. She wanted so bad to have a chance. I’d give it to her. I proceeded with the rest of the interview like she’d didn’t already have the job. I was going to wait a day to tell her she got it but all her limbs were shaking so bad as she walked out I told her right then. Her eyes teared up and she ran into my arms.
“Thank you, Sam! Thank you. I won’t let you down.”
Then she walked out looking more confident. I knew I made the right choice.
“Hi Addy,” I say with a smile.
“Hi Sam, Mr. Prescott,” she leans down, speaking with her same breathy soft voice. “Hi Jazzy.” She sticks her hand out and they fist bump. Addy is a hermit and reads all the time, avoiding most people, but she is stellar with kids. All kids love her. Jazmine is no exception.
Finally, I summon my courage and turn to Dusty. “Hi Dusty.”
“So I’m staying with you now.” His voice cold and detached. Like this is just another day in his miserable life.
“Uh…” I turn to Logan. I can’t speak. This kid breaks my heart.
“Yes,” Logan says. “It’s good to see you again.”
“I saw you on TV the other day.”
Dusty’s eyes narrow and he shifts forward on his toes. When Logan doesn’t respond he looks at Jazmine and then back at me at then back at Logan. For the first time, I see something he so desperately tries to hide, a flicker of vulnerability. Of fear. I knew from the first time I met him his tough guy act was a way to protect himself but seeing his fear first hand is… well, hard.
“Let’s get home. Sound good Dusty?” I force an encouraging smile.
He shrugs, acting like he doesn’t care when he does. He’s so scared. I look over at Addy. She is looking at Dusty like she wants to hug him and fix his heart. Dusty turns to Addy. They’d bonded in the time Dusty has been in our care at the foster home, as much as Dusty is capable of bonding anyway. When Addy see’s Dusty’s eyes on her she crouches down to his level.
“You’re gonna be so happy with Sam and her family. I know you are. They are gonna take such good care of you. You are one of the lucky ones. I promise Dusty.” Dusty watches Addy, his expression neutral, but I see the awe in his eyes. The desire for her opinion and approval.
My ears hone in on a few of her words. “You are one of the lucky ones. I promise Dusty.” At that moment, I grow to understand Addy. Her workaholism. Her desperation to work here. To belong. Her extremely reserved nature.
She was not one of the lucky ones.
“Am I ever gonna see you again?” Dusty asks. He sounds casual like he really could care less either way, but both Addy and I know that’s not true. Addy looks at me desperately. Oh God, between the two of them I’m melting. I see Logan frown, but this is my choice. Well, technically it’s Logan and I’s, but…
“Yes, of course, you will see Addy again. If that is what you want.”
Dusty gives a curt nod, but the slight drop in his tense shoulders gives him away.
“Can we go now?” Jazmine whines. All our paperwork has been signed. We’ve taken care of everything already so I nod, tentivally. Dusty looks back at the home once before following us to the car. He doesn’t even acknowledge the bodyguard. He doesn’t care.
The car is silent for a while. When it starts to get uncomfortable, it is Dusty who breaks the silence. I realize in that moment how much work we have ahead of us.
“So I guess it’s your house I am going to next.”
Like this is temporary. Just another stop in his miserable life. NO. This is home now. His home. He’ll never, ever have to go through this again.
“Our house,” I say through the lump in my throat. “Our house Dusty.”
Chapter 5 (Alex):
So here I am. Alone in a hotel room with Rex. I have no fucking clue why he wants me here. I have never felt more vulnerable or insecure than I do today. Two feelings I do not like to feel! Plus, I’ve felt them enough in my fucking life. I don’t want to feel them because of kind-hearted Rex. Jesus!
First, Rex didn’t just fuck me the other night. I can’t even say the words. He went slow. He was gentle, kind. He knows I can’t handle that, but he did it anyway. Then I have to leave to help to Sam, and the next day he’s totally different. He barely acknowledges me. He barely acknowledges anyone for that matter. He looks tense, angry. I mean it’s so obvious. His fists are clenching at a rapid rate. I can feel the energy bouncing off him, and what hurts is I can’t figure out what happened. What I did wrong. I keep replaying the night in my head. Did I say something to push him away? Did I not please him? Is he over me? What the hell did I do?
He’s said nothing about it, other than to drop the bombshell to everyone in the car that he wanted to take me to a hotel room before we all me Dusty. What the fuck? I hate him, and so that’s where we are now.
Rex is organizing the counter and I am standing here stiff as a fucking board, fidgeting. What am I doing here?
Rex finally turns around to face me, blessing me with his fucking presence. His brows furrow when he sees my demeanor.
“What’s wrong?” he asks gently, looking confused. He reaches out and gently runs his fingers along the curves of my arm. I jerk it away. I feel fury build like a fire inside of me. How dare he make me feel so shameful and then be all nice and act like nothing happened?
“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” I shriek and then scoff. “Fuck you, you asshole! You fucking… you had sex with me. You didn’t fuck me… you were gentle, then you… you get all weird. You won’t talk to me. I don’t know what I did wrong!” Tears prick my eyes and I take several steps backward. “You made me feel shameful and I didn’t even know it was possible for me to feel that way anymore! You asshole. Fuck you!”
I turn away so he doesn’t see me cry. I just… it’s Rex.
“Alex!” he gasps. “Honestly, I… fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck!” I hear a loud crash and jolt. I quickly turn around to see a glass broken on the counter, and Rex’s hand bleeding profusely. My eyes go wide. I have never, and I mean never, seen Rex violent. Hell, I’ve rarely ever seen him angry. Instantly my anger fades and worry takes its place. I sprint over to him, but not before he throws another glass across the room.
“Rex!” I shriek. I grab his hand to stop him. “What’s going on?”
At that moment I feel like a selfish bitch because I realize his mood has nothing to do with me.
“Talk to me,” I whisper, looking into his eyes. His eyes hold so much pain. I’m a little taken aback.
Rex sinks to the floor and puts his face in his hand. I try to wipe the blood off quickly, but it’s no use. He’s bleeding too much. I feel slightly out of my element with the comfort thing here, but I’m worried sick about him and Rex has comforted me more times than I can count.
I wrap my arm around his shoulder and squeeze tight. “Rex, what’s wrong? I’m worried, please talk to me. Please. I’ve never… Please.”
Rex finally turns his head to face me, the pain is radiating off him. “Alex, it wasn’t you. I feel like an asshole. I
t wasn’t you at all. I can’t believe I made you feel that way. I wasn’t thinking. Please know…”
I put my finger over his lips. “I know. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I should have known.”
I look in his eyes, ready to ask what’s wrong, but he is pleading with me not to ask. I give him that. I understand not being ready to talk. Despite my curiosity, I let him have his privacy for a while. We stay just like this for a while. Me simply holding him. I can feel the tension in his body. I was wrong. It’s not pain I’m seeing. It’s anger. Not anger. Rage, and I don’t understand it. Not from him. He was furious with me for a while, but other than that, well, Rex never resorts to rage. I stare at him for a while, trying to understand. He pulls away and helps me to my feet.
“Thank you, Alex.” He looks sad as he says those words. “I don’t deserve it.”
I furrow my brows but don’t comment. “Don’t mention it, but if you tell anyone of my kindness I will have to cut off your dick.”
Rex chokes on his breath and laughs. “Yes, ma’am. Not a word. As far as everyone is concerned you were a cold hearted bitch.”
“Perfect,” I deadpan, but then we both bust out laughing until our stomachs hurt. When our laughter dies down we look into each other’s eyes and smile in understanding. He’s angry for a reason I don’t understand and I feel completely and utterly hopeless to help him. There’s something he is desperately trying to fight and he won’t tell me about it. We are in the same sinking ship, but not alone in it. Drowning isn’t as bad when someone is going down with you.
I’m sick and cruel. I know. I so desperately want a company that I’m willing to drag the one man I’ve ever really loved down with me. The hate I have for myself festers even deeper inside my soul. Rex and I spend the rest of the night watching movies and cuddling. No sex, fucking, or even kissing. We just strip down to our undergarments put on a movie and snuggle. It’s a beautiful break from reality.
