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“No. It’s just a frog in my throat. It’ll pass,” I lie, trying to bury the memories of last night down to the darkest corner in my head.
Well, not all the memories.
The time I spent in Gray’s arms as he fucked the very life out of me will be something I want to remember until my dying day.
“Ah, good. Looks like you’re regaining some color in your cheeks. I was getting worried you got that flu that’s been going around lately, especially since Tim told me you spent most of yesterday sleeping.”
“Tim?” I parrot back in confusion.
“The other guidance counselor who works nights. You’ve met him before. He’s the one who broke up the fight you had with Britney on your first day here.”
“Oh, right. The stiff. Yeah, I remember him,” I reply on autopilot, penciling his name down for future reference. “Nope. I’m as healthy as a horse.”
“Glad to hear it,” she says, steering the wheel of the car to turn right into a busy street.
“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask, feeling antsy with Gray following us.
“I will, but first how does lunch sound?”
My stomach instantly makes itself known with its loud growling. “It all depends. It’s not going to be the same slop you guys give us back in the home, is it?”
“I was thinking burgers.” She laughs.
“Definite improvement.” I giggle along. “But seriously, is there any way you guys can feed us real food? It’s atrocious what we eat on a daily basis.”
“Oh, I know. Believe me, if there was a way that we could get better food, we would. I hate to say it, but government funds can only stretch so far. If we rely purely on the government’s share that is given to us, then we wouldn’t even have the slop you’re complaining about now. Luckily, we do have some Good Samaritans who give to the cause. You’d be surprised how much we lean on other people’s charity to get by. It wouldn’t have to be that way if our country put our kids’ lives first. Better education. Better health services. Better counseling. All of it could be so easy if someone on the top of the totem pole would just give a crap. Instead, they focus on spending billions on wars and guns across the globe instead of protecting our children right in their front yard.”
I lean against my seat, hearing the anger in her voice. She really does care for those kids. Passionately so. Suddenly, the urge to tell her that the kids she’s so fond of aren’t safe under her roof starts burning through my vocal cords, almost as if keeping myself silent is physically painful for me to accomplish.
But I can’t put her in danger.
Once we know exactly every name of every person who is involved in the sick fuckery that is going on in that house and get rid of them for good, those kids are going to need a familiar face to lean on. Someone they trust to confide in and heal from the trauma they have suffered. If I tell Maeve now, then she’ll just end up blowing a gasket and putting Gray’s whole mission in jeopardy. We’ve come too far to have it all be ripped to smithereens.
“Those kids are lucky to have you,” I finally say when I see that she’s composed herself.
“I’m the lucky one. Those kids are my life. I’d be lost without them.”
Her heart-filled words stab a dagger in my heart.
She’ll be absolutely inconsolable when she finds out what has taken place right under her very nose. I’m surprised no kid has ever come forth and told her as much, but then again, fear and intimidation work miracles to keep victims of abuse quiet. It’s a tale as old as time, one I learned really fast when I was just knee high. My father, Roy, made sure to rule our home with an iron fist. There aren’t many memories I have of that time, but I do remember hiding in closets and under my bed when he had too much to drink or even when his favorite sports team lost a match. Both my mom and Layla took most of the brunt of his fury, but even then, I knew it was only a question of time before he started wailing on Gage and me.
“Hey, are you still with me?” she asks with concern when I go quiet for longer than I’m used to.
“Yeah. Just hungry, I guess.”
“Well, good thing we’re here then,” she replies whimsically, pointing at a McDonalds across from where she’s parking the car. “It’s not fancy, but it’ll get the job done.”
“I’d kill for some fries and a milkshake.” I salivate, wiping the drool off my chin.
“Then let’s do this,” she proclaims with utter glee, looking younger than her years as she jumps out of the car.
I rush to follow her, but then I stop on the sidewalk when I feel steel silver eyes weighing me down.
“Do you have anything to say to me?” I ask, locking my gaze with his through the van’s windshield.
To my disappointment, he doesn’t answer me with that low, gravelly voice of his. All he does is curtly shake his head in response.
“Then I guess I’m having lunch.” I cross the street and follow Maeve to grab a nice juicy burger, trying my best to forget the broody alpha-hole in his van.
