A mother whose greatest gift to me was her death. A father who never cared. And a brother who barely looked at me for more than two seconds.
I also failed to use the second chance at gaining one. And it all went back to trust. Trusting the wrong ones and distrusting the right ones.
My therapist told me I had lost trust in the adults in my life. My mother barely cared since she was more interested in finding her next bedmate than feeding her own daughter. After her death, it was easier to accept that my father was going to be the same. And I was right—Savage was just like her.
When Mama Deb’s love stared me square in the face, I ran in disbelief. Away from her.
Since Glory was young like me, thinking like me. Voicing the words lodged within me. I had gotten reeled in, easily. I didn’t even think of her as family, or a carer. Just a mirror.
Unbeknownst to me, I was her friend designed to help achieve her goals. To this day, I don’t know what those goals were.
I know mine now, and they don’t reside with the Wardens of Sin anymore. They’re with my work. With my students—I love calling them that. It’s with my BSW degree I’ll eventually earn, so I can help kids like me. Kids who didn’t have anyone until it was too late.
I glance at my phone and curse under my breath. “Shit.”
Of course, the one time I decide to take my classes online, I end up running late for work. I didn’t even realize that the sun had been set for hours now. My back aches sitting against the concrete wall of my terrace.
Yes, it’s my terrace. I claimed it the day I visited Bellamy Hall for my first semester classes. It has the best northwest facing views in the whole campus.
I quickly collect my things, shoving them hastily into my backpack.
Besides tutoring, I’ve been bartending at a local dive for the last nineteen months. I’m a shift supervisor now. The pay’s better, and the hours are tolerable.
It’s almost 9 p.m. and I’m sprinting down the street when my phone rings—my custom ringtone making me smile on instinct. “Hey, M—”
“Don’t you dare ‘Mama Deb’ me,” she snaps. “You haven’t called in three days, Charlotte. Three days.”
I laugh, breathless. “I told you it’s the last few weeks of the semester, Mama. I’m… busier.”
She huffs, dramatic as ever, and I can hear her pacing.
I smile. “Alright, alright. I promised three calls a week. You’ll get three calls a week.”
She hums, satisfied. “Good. I’ll hold you to that. Now… Why are you out of breath?”
“Late for my shift. Power walking before I get fired.”
She chuckles. “It’s a fifteen-minute walk, sweetheart. You’ll survive.”
“From home, yes. But I was still at Bellamy Hall, Mama.”
“Ah.” She sighs. “Well, you better run then. Oh! Before I forget. Did you get the package from Torch yet? He sent another batch of that marmalade I made. But I think he snuck in a surprise for you too.”
“Ooooh, what is it? And no, I haven’t gotten anything.”
“Why would I ruin my husband’s surprise?”
The word hits me like a slap and I flinch involuntarily.
Christ, Charlotte.
She’s just using the damn word. Not mentioninghim.
I clear my throat. “Alright, Mama. I’ll keep an eye out.”
My phone buzzes with a text, and the name on the screen nearly stops me in my tracks.
“I… I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
