Page 190 of Power Play

“I don’t remember everything he said. I remember his mouth moving and another officer standing behind him. I remember thinking they had the wrong apartment because my mom went for fucking milk.” My jaw locked. “They kept asking if there was an adult they could call.”

“Ryan.”

“I kept telling them my mom would be back.”

Her grip tightened around my hand.

“I argued with them.” The memory lived beneath my skin with a clarity I hated. “I told a police officer he couldn’t take me anywhere because she told me to stay home.”

I finally looked at her. “I waited for her to come through that door for two days after I already knew she was dead.”

Charm’s face crumpled, and I shook my head.

“Don’t look at me like that unless you’re staying with me through the rest.”

She blinked rapidly before lifting her chin. “I’m staying.”

I believed her enough to keep going.

“They put me in a temporary house first.” My thumb moved over her knuckles. “I had a trash bag. That shit is real, by the way. People talk about foster kids carrying trash bags like it’s some fucked-up movie detail, but they really hand you one. You put whatever shit they decide belongs to you inside it.”

I drank before continuing.

“I had two pairs of jeans, three shirts, my mom’s dictionary, one book, and a toothbrush somebody gave me at the station.”

Charm looked toward me. “The dictionary you gave me?”

“Yeah.”

Her hand tightened around mine. That fucking book had been touched by my mom’s hands, and mine had carried it through places I still had nightmares about. Now it sat in Charm’s apartment with her notes folded between the pages.

“That was one of the only things I kept from house to house.”

“Ryan…”

“I’m okay.”

Her expression sharpened. “Now you don’t get to do that.”

I looked at her.

“You don’t get to tell me all of this and then make it easier for me by saying you’re okay.”

Something almost like pride moved through me despite everything. “Look at you getting mouthy.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.” I took another drink. “The first few houses weren’t all bad. Some people wanted kids, and some wanted checks. Then there were the ones who wanted somebody small enough to control.”

My jaw tightened as the kitchen seemed to grow colder around us.

“I learned quickly that adults could say you were safe and still lock the bedroom door from the outside.”

Charm stopped breathing for a second. I continued before she could ask for details I wasn’t ready to put inside her head.

“I learned which men drank enough to forget boundaries and which women would hear something happening and turn the television louder. I learned that getting hit wasn’t always the worst thing an adult could do to you.”

Her mouth trembled while I stared at the bottle.