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Maggie blushes. “Not so sure about that. Up until now, I’ve put everyone else’s wants and needs before my own.”
“As in your mom?” I ask, indicating that she should dive into the tacos. We’re all seated close together so that we can reach the huge metal platter in the middle, and it feels intimate.
Maggie nods, taking a bite of cheesy taco. She licks the grease from her lips, and my cock starts twerking in my jeans. Shit, I should’ve worn sweats. An eight-inch dancing boner is no fucking joke in unforgiving denim.
“Yeah. My dad died when I was seven from a heart attack,” she replies. “He was only thirty-eight. He drank, smoked, worked too hard. I only have vague memories of him, but they’re good ones. I know he loved me. My mom? Not so much.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, reaching across to squeeze her hand.
She squeezes back, linking her fingers with mine as she continues.
“After he died, things were tough. I can’t remember a time when Mom didn’t drink. She re-married less than a year after my dad died. That one only lasted three months. Then she met husband number three. Mike was a decent guy with a job in finance. Life was pretty good for a while,’ she says wistfully. “They were together for five years until he came home and found my mom in bed with another woman.”
My eyebrows lift in surprise. “Your mom is bisexual?”
Maggie laughs hollowly. “I have no idea what my mom is. I don’t think she does, either. I just know she likes sex. Don’t get me wrong, I think people should be able to have sex with whoever they want as long as they’re not hurting anyone. But Mike didn’t sign up for an open marriage. Which is why he became ex-husband number three. Then, there was Larry. He was a piece of work. Brought drugs into the house and was an addict himself. Twice he tried to force me to have sex with him, but I told him if he ever laid so much as a finger on me, I’d castrate him in his sleep and choke him with his own cock.”
Anger wells in my chest as I listen to Maggie’s story.
“You’re one ballsy chick,” Theo says admiringly. “No excuse for a man to force a woman. Please tell me Larry got what was coming to him.”
Maggie nods. “He did. He was arrested for supplying Class A drugs and went down for seven years. That was three years ago. I’ve lost count of the number of people Mom’s been involved with since then.”
“And I thought we had it rough,” Tanner says thoughtfully.
“You guys were in foster care, right?” Maggie asks, looking between us. She notices as Tanner’s face closes up. “I’m sorry. It must be tough having your personal lives splashed all over social media.”
Tanner shrugs. “It’s okay. They know what we want them to know. We don’t talk about our time in the system, but fair’s fair. You shared your story with us,” he says, giving me a slight nod.
“Tanner and Theo were already in the foster home when I turned up,” I begin, recalling the first day I walked through the doors of the group foster home. “We all come from broken families, drugs, alcohol, violence, you name it. We were all allocated the same social worker. She was a manipulative bitch,” I say bitterly.
Maggie looks surprised at my outburst. I’m pretty quiet as a rule. I learned to keep my real thoughts and emotions to myself from a young age. Growing up in the foster system will do that to you. But remembering the injustice Tanner and Theo suffered gets me riled up.
“What did she do?” she asks, sensing this is not a happy story.
“She forced Theo and Tanner to have sex with her from the age of fourteen. Said she’d mark herself up and cry rape if they refused. I think she would’ve forced me too, but I was two years younger, and Theo and Tanner protected me. It went on for years. That’s why we’re so close. They’re both annoying assholes, but they’re my brothers,” I say, shooting them a wry grin. “The people you call family don’t have to be related by blood. Some bonds go much deeper than that. I’d lay down my life for either one of them.”
I look up to see Maggie wiping away tears. “I’m so sorry,” she chokes, knowing better than anyone how inadequate those three words sound. She reaches out for Theo and Tanner’s hands, too. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I feel privileged.”
I swallow hard, fighting down emotion. Theo and Tanner aren’t doing too well, either. We sit there in silence for a minute, our food forgotten, our hands linked in the middle of the table.
“Writing poetry and song lyrics was my therapy,” Maggie says, breaking the silence. “Everything I felt, all those crappy experiences, I poured onto the pages of the notebook I showed you this morning. Music was my favorite subject at school. I tutored my music teacher’s son in Math in exchange for piano lessons with her. When I wasn’t at home, you’d find me in the music room at school. It was my safe place, somewhere I could lose myself for a little while.”
“Music is life. That’s why our hearts have beats,” I say, remembering having read that quote somewhere.
“Where words fail, music speaks,” Tanner adds.
Maggie smiles. “Hans Christian Andersen.”
“It is,” Tanner says, looking impressed.
“My turn,” Theo says. “Without music, life would be flat. Get it? B flat?” he snorts, cracking up at his joke.
“Fucking hell, bro, that was bad,” I groan, shaking my head in disgust.
