“And this…” she went further down my arm, running her finger over the slightly fresher wound.
I quickly took my arm away, pulling the sleeve back down.
“Sometimes, to relieve the hidden pain, you got to make yourself bleed to let it all go.”
She gasped. “Oh, Dillie, I had no idea.”
“I know. I like to keep that pain hidden, so you don’t look at me with the pity you are right now.”
In one sudden movement, she had me wrapped up in her arms, hugging me so tightly that I didn’t care I could barely breathe. We were both hurting in our own ways, and all we had was each other.
“I’m going to get you out of here.”
“How? You age out in two days.”
“I know. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to get you out of this home. I’m not going to leave you behind so that monster can hurt you anymore.”
Tears pricked her eyes, cascading down her fair cheeks, leaving visible track marks she couldn’t erase anymore.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Joey. You know the foster system is a messed-up place, and kids like you and me just fall through the cracks.”
“Not this time, Dillie. I promised I would always keep you safe, and obviously I’m failing at that, but I won’t let that happen anymore. When Layla gets here on Thursday to come release me, I’m going to do my damndest to take you with me. I won’t leave you here, not with him or the purse hoarder. Nope. When I leave, you’re coming with me. I swear that on everything the Murdocks stand for.”
She held up our symbol, her fingers crossed in the middle because even she knew the future for both of us was uncertain. As long as we were both underaged, we’d always be at the mercy of the foster care system. We could’ve run away years ago, but neither of us was ready for that kind of responsibility.
But who was I kidding?
We weren’t ready now either… which is probably why everything fell apart around us, ripping us away from each other once and for all.
Chapter Three
Whoever said the foster care system sucked wasn’t kidding. My sister did everything she could to try to keep us together after she aged out of the system. She even went as far as going in front of the court, pleading her case in front of a judge as she fought for custody of me. But to be honest, that was the last time I ever saw my sister. Despite being the only family each other had, and wanting to stay together no matter how hard it would be, the judge denied Joey’s request to become my caregiver. He said that Joey didn’t have a way to take care of herself, much less a teenage boy. The Sinclair’s sat in the front of the courtroom, their smug smiles sliding evilly across their faces as all the dollar signs that came with me bounced around in their eyes. It seemed like there was no hope of ever getting out of the Sinclair home, at least not for me, but once the judge reached his decision, Joey stepped up, doing what she had to do in order to get me out of that crazy house for good.
She let it all out, telling the judge everything that happened to us inside those festering walls of corruption and abuse. She didn’t hold anything back, and by the end of the hearing, the court knew everything. From the physical violence Mr. Sinclair committed towards me, and all the sexual abuse that happened to her. Both of the bastards ended up in jail. Mr. Sinclair was booked for physically assaulting me and sexually assaulting my sister while we were both underage, and Mrs. Sinclair was charged with an accessory for letting it all happen and doing nothing.
It didn’t matter that Joey was at the age of consent when everything went down with Mr. Sinclair. Once the judge found out he basically blackmailed her into fucking him, he was done. We both thought we had won the battle that day, but the only thing that changed was my home address.
Nobody wanted to take in a teenage boy, and instead of getting to go home with Joey, the judge put me in a boy’s home outside of Austin. It was better than being sent to another foster home, but at the same time, I hated it. I was kind of an outcast, always keeping to myself, never really making any friends. School sucked for me because I was never smart to begin with, and they basically threw me to the wolves. I failed at pretty much everything, barely passing any of my subjects. I just didn’t understand them. The only class I looked forward to and got decent grades in was Auto Shop.
That’s where I excelled. Auto mechanics seemed to be my thing, so I used that class as my way of escaping all the memories of abuse and pain I internalized every day. If one good thing came out of living in the Sinclair home, it was that Mr. Sinclair was the one who gave me my love for working on cars–even if what he had me do at his shop was illegal. I think the only reason I even got a diploma was because my teachers didn’t want to deal with me again in the following year. The teachers were overworked and underpaid, and they couldn’t slow down to teach one dumb kid who could barely multiply numbers, let alone do algebra. Hell, I wouldn’t have wanted them to, because that would’ve just highlighted how inept I was to the other kids.
Those last few years of high school were rough, and I got in a lot of trouble. I was no stranger to getting into fights, but the fact that I never started the damn fights was the only thing that played in my favor. I never started shit with anyone, but I sure as fuck finished it.
I made a vow after I was removed from the Sinclair home that I would never be at anyone’s mercy again. I put on weight and worked out at the school gym every morning. It took two years of working out for me to start packing on the muscle. By the time I graduated, people no longer fucked with me.
The day I aged out of the system, I was given a bus ticket back home and a garbage bag to carry my stuff in. I took them both and went in search of my sister. The last place I saw Joey was in Rising Star, so I’d start there. Hopefully, she was okay. If she didn’t want to offer me a place, I wouldn’t guilt her into it, but knowing she was safe was all I cared about. She was family–the only family that ever gave a damn about me. Our circumstances may have separated us, but when you go through hell with someone, your bond is forged in the fires of that hell and only strengthens when you rise above it all.
Before I tried to do anything else with my life, I had to know she was okay. After that, I would figure out what to do next.
Rising Star hadn’t changed much since I left–not that I could tell at first, anyway. For the most part, everything stayed the same. We had a small grocery store, library, and what would be considered the main drag of town where all the businesses set up shop. Around the corner was the old movie theater that had been abandoned long ago. If I couldn’t find Joey, that would be a good place to crash for the night.
I honestly had no clue where my sister was or if she was still in Rising Star. It’d been two years since I’d seen or heard from her, and there’s no telling what had taken place in those two years. She could have moved on to a bigger town, looking for better opportunities, or met a man and gotten married. A lot can change in two years’ time.
The best chance I had of finding my sister was through child services. If I could locate our old social worker, she might have been in contact with Joey or at least seen her around town since I’ve been gone. I hefted the one bag of belongings that I had over my shoulder and headed toward the only place I could think to find information on my sister.
Layla Green took over our case when I was fifteen. She had called off and on to check on me while I was at the boarding home. I think mostly because she felt guilty that Joey and I got placed in such a bad situation with the Sinclair’s. She took it hard when the truth came out about what was going on in that house. I think Ms. Green was idealistic about helping kids when she first started working as an advocate for foster kids. Maybe some of that idealism wore off because when I walked into her office, she had changed.
“Ms. Green.” I knocked on her door lightly, so I didn’t scare her.
