“They’re not here!” I shout, hovering over Jade, not bothering to look their way.
“Search the place!” Yells the officer I assume is in charge.
“Please they’re just children, you’re frightening them.” Mrs. Presley urges as she appears from behind one of the cops. Well what do you know, looks like the old hag cares. This must be affecting her reputation as well.
The officer in charge walks slowly toward us as Jade and I walk backward until we hit the kitchen wall behind us.
“Sweetheart,” he says, his dark glasses hiding the eyes I assume are looking straight at me.
“I’m Agent Wesley Servite and I’m going to ask you this one more time. Where are your mom and dad?”
“We don’t know,” yells Jade from behind me. “But let me know when you find her because that bitch stole my money.”
“Jade, shut it.” I shout.
He turns to one of the other officers who stayed in the living room while the others moved to search the mobile home.
“Carson, put an APB out for Chandler Wolfe and Lilith Steele, on the run, possibly armed, and extremely dangerous.”
“What are you talking about on the run? What did they do?” I ask anxiously.
“Come, girls, let’s have a seat here to talk.”
I grab hold of Jade’s hand as we slowly walk over to the torn, stained couch in the middle of our living room. The brown suede couch, which smells like vomit on a good day, takes up most of the small living space. Behind it are a few mismatched, dusty shelves and across is a small drawer chest with an old school television set. You know the one that looks like a computer screen that belongs in the 1980s.
“There should be a third party here with you to talk with the girls, Agent Servite, they’re minors,” blurts out Mrs. Presley from the doorway.
“With all due respect, Mrs. Preston was it, this is none of your concern. A child services agent is on her way as we speak, so please do yourself a favor and leave the scene before I have one of my officers remove you.”
Mrs. Presley hurriedly leaves looking over her shoulder before the door is shut on her.
Jade and I sit uncomfortably on the couch while Agent Servite grabs a folding chair from the kitchen and sits in front of us. Now I can see why he stood out from the rest of the officers. His demeanor and well-tailored suit scream money. His blond hair combed perfectly in place, and his clear blue eyes peek out behind dark shades. He sees me eyeing him and removes the dark glasses from his eyes. His stare burns as his eyes rake over my body focusing too long on the thin, spaghetti strap pajama top and shorts I’m wearing. I suddenly feel self-conscious pulling a nearby cushion and placing it on my lap.
“Ladies, I can assume this is quite frightening, but I need you to tell me where your parents are?” he asks, staring intently at me.
“We don’t know,” I say squeezing Jade’s hand.
He looks down at my movement and back up at me. But I keep my eyes on his. I will not be intimidated by him.
“I’m going to ask you once more, child.” He glares at me and it pisses me off.
“It’s Scarlett,” I retort.
“Yes, Scarlett Serena Steele, daughter of Lilith Steele and an unknown male, and Jade Emma Wolfe, daughter of Chandler Zander Wolfe and the late Amelia “Millie” Connor. I know who you are, girls, we’ve been watching you closely since Chaz got released from prison. It was a matter of time before he’d do something to violate his probation.”
“Then you know that they are no parents to us. Only the fucked-up adults that we are burdened with till we turn eighteen and get the fuck out of this place,” says Jade angrily.
“That, my dear, may come sooner than you think. Chandler Wolfe and Lilith Steele are wanted for suspected armed robbery of three Hillcrest Hills mansions and the murder of Hillcrest Hills Mayor Silas Smoak. A child services agent is on her way to remove you from this home and take you into protective custody.”
Hillcrest Hills? If I’m not mistaken, that’s the snobby rich town a couple hours away. What the hell were they doing there?
“No! My brother, he can take us in,” blurts out Jade, causing me to turn my attention back to the conversation at hand.
“I’m sorry, Jade, but your brother is still a minor himself and regardless, we haven’t been able to locate his whereabouts.”
“He wouldn’t help them if that’s what you’re insinuating. If anybody hates Chaz and Lilith more than we do, it’s Roman.”
Suddenly a tall, blonde, and elegantly dressed woman walks through our front door heading straight to us, a deep scowl upon her face.
“Agent Servite, I’m Elena Masters, with the Department of Social Services,” she says in a soft foreign accent handing him a card.
“Ms. Masters, this is Scarlett Steele and Jade Wolfe. Their parents are fugitives of the law and they have no immediate next of kin. They are now under the protective custody of the Department of Social Services and the State of California. I just have a few questions if you would have a seat.” He motions for her to sit next to us on the couch, but she blatantly ignores him and turns to us.
“Scarlett, Jade, my name is Elena and as you heard I’m with social services. Just a few questions, Agent Servite, as I must proceed with the process of getting these girls somewhere safe.”
I recognize the accent now, and it can only mean she must be English. Her eyes, warm and empathetic as she looks to us, turn fierce and cold when they connect with Agent Servite. I have a strange feeling this isn’t the first time these two have met.
“Please have a seat. The sooner we begin, the sooner these girls can go to their new home. As I previously mentioned, your parents are fugitives of the law, is there anything you can tell us about where we can locate them?” he asks, leaning back and bringing his hand to his chin.
“Isn’t it your job to locate them? Or are we now also employees of the Hillcrest Police Force?” sneers Jade as she raises an eyebrow to Agent Servite.
I can’t help but smirk. That’s Jade. The ever so subtle sarcasm queen. She despises authority and our parents. Having never known her mother, she’s been alone with Chaz and her brother until he met my mother. My mother was always jealous of Jade’s beauty and how much she resembled her mother who was Chaz’s first love. I think that’s one of the reasons she always took her anger out on her.
“Jade, just please answer Agent Servite’s question,” says Elena.
“We don’t know where they are.” I say, interrupting Jade. “The last time we saw them was last night. We had a bonfire outside and then Jade and I went to bed around midnight. We woke up right before you guys barged in.”
“We heard yelling right before we came in,” he continues.
“That was me. I was yelling because it turns out that bitch stole my money too,” says Jade defensively.
“What money?” he asks.
“Money my brother was sending me so we could get out of this hell hole.”
“From where?”
“Hell if I know, it appeared in the mailbox twice a month.”
“I think that’s enough, Agent Servite. It’s clear the girls have no clue where their parents are. I must proceed now with placing these girls in a home,” says Elena, moving forward.
“Of course, Ms. Masters.” He stands, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out two business cards. Handing one to each of us.
“If you think of anything else, or ever find yourself needing anything, don’t hesitate to contact me.” His blue eyes once again rake over my body and a small smirk appears as he senses my discomfort. He leans closer to me as Ms. Masters turns and pulls some papers out of her bag.
“We will find them,” he whispers, his hot breath felt against the skin of my neck. “And if we don’t, I’ll make sure the two of you pay for their crimes. Mark my words, sweetheart.”
I stand motionless and terrified by his threat as he moves back and walks out the door. Sw
eetheart. The endearment sounds tainted coming from his lips.
“Girls, I know this is all difficult to take in but since you have no immediate family old enough to take custody of you, and the matter with your mum and dad not being around, I’m afraid we will be placing you in the system. Unfortunately, we don’t have any space here in Providence, but there is a foster family in Pleasant Hills that has room for the both of you until we find a more permanent home. If you’d like to gather some belongings before we go, I’ll give you half an hour.”
Jade and I head back to our bedroom to pack what little belongings we can take with us. Ms. Masters says the foster home we’re going to will provide us with whatever necessities we may need. Apparently, there aren’t many foster families in the nearby area, especially ones willing to take in two teenage sisters, so we may end up staying with this couple till we turn eighteen.
“This is all so fucked up,” says Jade as she grabs a backpack from under her bed.
“Please, we both know we’re better off in this foster home then we ever were in this shithole. With your alcoholic of a father and my psychotic mother, we’d be in worse shape in a few years.”
“All I know is that this Agent Servite better get me my money back. Besides, did you see how hot he was? I mean… for a man like what, thirty,” she says winking at me.
“You’re such a pig, Jade,” she says this unaware of what he whispered in my ear.
But I must admit as creepy as he was, she’s right, Agent Servite is very handsome. Slicked back blond hair, intriguing blue eyes, and a flawless façade. Mix that together with his broad shoulders and impeccably tailored suit, and he’s every woman’s fantasy. But the way he was looking at me proves my first instinct about him was right. He’s dangerous and I’m afraid I’m already on his bad side.
“What did he tell you when he leaned into you? That was pretty creepy.”
I look away from Jade hoping to hide my uneasiness.
“Nothing, just that he thinks we’re lying.” I half lie. There is no reason to worry Jade with his idle threats. Wherever we go we’ll be safe from him, I hope.
“Shit, Scarlett!” she yells, throwing her arms around me. “Happy Birthday, Sis!”
And it dawns on me, it’s my fourteenth birthday. Well it’s off to a hell of a start.
After thirty minutes Jade and I have packed our entire lives into two small backpacks, pile into Ms. Masters Mercedes Benz SUV, and drive the hour and a half to Pleasant Hills. Jade’s been glaring out the backseat window the entire time, while Elena’s tried to do the whole small talk thing. I have to give Elena some credit, she’s tenacious. Neither Jade or I have once responded but she keeps the charade up until she pulls into the driveway of what I assume is our destination and shifts the Benz into park.
We pull up to an abandoned looking, two-story yellow house, with chipped gray shutters and a large white picket fence. The windows are boarded up with metal bars and there is a rusty porch swing on the semi-manicured lawn. A large fence to one side and a small one-car garage on the other. It’s not a bad looking house, definitely bigger than our two-bedroom mobile home, but it oddly doesn’t look lived in. At the top of the small second-story window is a large sign reading THE GRAYSON’S.
“This is where we’re going?” asks Jade with obvious distaste.
“Home Sweet Home,” I say laughingly.
Elena turns her head to us as she grabs her purse from the passenger seat. Her light hazel eyes look warm and comforting as she smiles softly at the two of us who have been nothing but rude to her since we met.
“It was such short notice so I’m not sure your room is ready yet. Stay here while I get all of your paperwork settled,” she says in her posh accent.
We idly wait in the car as she walks down the driveway and up the cracked pavement leading to the entrance. She knocks on the front door a few times, but nobody comes to answer it. Looking down at her watch she knocks again, but still no answer. Deciding we’ve given her enough time on her own, I proceed to step out of the car, Jade following behind me when a tall, thin woman with the wildest red hair I’ve ever seen steps out of the screen door. The lady eyes us warily as we reach Elena by the door standing beside her. I know what she’s thinking as she looks us over. Two teenage girls mean trouble.
Sure, Jade and I are still kids, but we are wise beyond our years. Kids in these rundown neighborhoods grow up without parents and we grow up fast. I can tell she knows we’re no good at following rules, and to anyone giving their generous time to raising kids in the system, that’s a load of unwanted trouble.
“Mrs. Grayson, like I mentioned over the phone earlier today, I’m Elena Masters with the Department of Social Services. These are the two girls I informed you I was bringing. They are Scarlett Steele and Jade Wolfe, ages 14 and 13, sisters from Providence.”
“Yes, of course, Ms. Masters, welcome to Pleasant Hills,” says the red-haired woman looking directly at us, ignoring Ms. Masters who stands before us.
“I’m Alice Grayson, my wife Sarah and I started as foster parents when we first got married fifteen years ago. We’ve seen many kids come and go through our doors, but we assure you this is not your typical foster home. Sarah and I love all the children we’ve housed, and we believe you all are worthy of a fair chance at the life you deserve. Here you girls will be cared for. I must warn you as soon as you step through these doors you become part of our family. You become an honorary Grayson. Mine and Sarah’s daughters. The boys and girls here, your siblings.” She smiles softly at us as she turns and begins walking through the door leading us into the main living area of the home.
We follow the woman, Alice, into a large room painted a light blue color with two large beige couches lined in a L-shape in the middle of the room facing an entertainment system.
“This is the main living room. Where the kids spend most of their time. As for bedtimes and all that, we do have to enforce a curfew by state regulations but other than that you are free to come and go as you please.”
We keep walking down the hall as she motions to the television hanging on the wall.
“This is the only place in the house with a television and it has some cable channels we can afford to have. We do have a small computer lab upstairs, with about four computers, but most of the kids just do their homework at the high school or library.” She continues to walk and talk as we follow her through the house.
“To the right here we have the kitchen and dining room. I usually do most of the cooking, Sarah’s not particularly good.” She turns to me and whispers quietly, “Don’t tell her I said that. I’ll deny it, I swear.”
“We have three meals daily along with various snacks available, our pantry is always stocked. Breakfast is at seven, nine on weekends, lunch is at noon on non-school days, and we have dinner together every night at six.”
I get this eerie feeling we are being watched although there is not a kid in sight.
“Where’s everyone at?” asks Jade.
“Well at school of course. You girls will be enrolling at Pleasant Hills High.”
“Great, a new school,” snickers Jade as she stares at a picture frame hanging in the middle of the hallway leading to the kitchen.
“Is this Sarah?” she asks, pointing to the photograph of Mrs. Grayson with a woman with dark brown hair and brown almond shaped eyes. They stand in what looks like a yard with four kids, three boys and a girl, who look to be about ten years old.
“Yes, that’s my Sarah and our children.”
“You have kids of your own?” I ask.
“All fosters, but those four have been here the longest,” she says, but doesn’t add any more information, so I don’t ask.
“How many other kids are here?” asks Jade.
“Those four, two older boys who are about to turn eighteen in the next few months, and three younger children who are about to turn ten and eight, twin girls and their brother. We never have mor
e than ten kids at a time but since Kayden and Mitchell turn eighteen soon and will be leaving, we have space for you two.”
Elena shrugs her shoulders as she turns to us. “It was either here or five hours away in Lakeview, figured this would be best,” she says, turning to look at Mrs. Grayson who steps into the kitchen leaving us alone with her. “My supervisor has worked with Alice and Sarah before and she has said nothing but wonderful things about them. They are good people. Honest, genuine, and caring. It’s hard to find those qualities in foster families nowadays. Everyone’s either in it for a payout or because they’re too lazy to get a real job. You’ll be much better off here with them than where you were.”
“You don’t know anything about us or our situation,” I sneer, and I regret it instantly. Elena has been nothing but kind. It’s not her fault our parents are criminals, possibly murderers.
“You’re right, I don’t. Either way I have faith that you will find a home here,” she adds, and I turn to look at Jade who simply shrugs her shoulders.
“It’s not like we have another choice,” she says as Mrs. Grayson re-enters the room with a plate of cookies.
“Shall I show you your rooms?”
I guess this doesn’t seem so bad, compared to our alternative.
ONE
SCARLETT
Present Day
In life three things are certain. There are friends, there is family, and then there are those friends that become so much more than family. In our previous lives we had no friends, had no family, but now we have our crew. The foster home my sister Jade and I were brought to three years ago turned out to be the best damn thing that ever happened to us. For starters, here we have the freedom to do whatever the hell we want, and although we may have had that back in Providence, here we’ve finally found our real family. The Grayson’s foster children, Damon Drake, Malachi Saint, and Jaxon Wylde have become like brothers to us. Hell, even Ruby Drake, who I can hardly stand, is just a bitchier version of Jade. And the sweet Mrs. Grayson and Mrs. Sarah, well they’re like those overbearing grandmothers who smother you every time they come to visit.
The Four Horsemen : A Servite Academy For Troubled Teens Novel Page 2
