Fostered

By Vanessa Marie

You know what makes me different? 
The thing that sets us apart? 
Life experience. 
I've never been tucked in at night. 
Hot meals and clean clothes might as well be fairytales...
Sleep?
I've never felt safe enough. 
Wanted? 
Only by the police. 
Loved?
The word doesn't exist in my vocabulary. 
I'm damaged goods. 
An easy paycheck. 
I thought there was an ulterior motive...
There always has been.
Until I met the McKinleys.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vanessa Marie
• Release date: Nov 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781518613883

Vanessa Marie

Always dancing to the beat of her own drum, Vanessa is a heavily tattooed, sarcastic, motorcycle enthusiast who started her career as a ASE Certified Jeep technician at the age of sixteen. Her obsessions of watching Turkish dizi TV shows, or yelling at an NHL game (GO VGK) while reading simultaneously often battle her family.  At the age of 26 and becoming a pacemaker recipient—she decided the over 60 crowd was more her scene and learned to knit. She lives in Kentucky (by way of Las Vegas) with her family and crazy cats. 

Book preview

1

Dante, are you paying attention?

She knew I wasn't. I never did. It was always the same speech.

The car jerked right to the side of the road and stopped. Marsha's full glare burned a hole in me. She'd been my social worker since the beginning of my shitty so-called life.

I rolled my eyes and finally glanced in her direction. What?

I know you're tired of this song and dance. I want you to find a permanent family—

I scoffed before she could finish her sentence. No one wants a seventeen-year-old reject to adopt, I deadpanned.

No matter how much of a front I tried to put up, each time I went through this a new piece of me died a little more. How many times could they expect me to meet a new family that wouldn't discard me like yesterday's trash?

Frustrated with my attitude, she let out a heavy sigh. Look, Dante, this time is going to be different.

Oh yeah? You said that the last thirteen times.

She held up her hand to shut me up. I know. The system has failed you. I know you feel like I have failed you...But I promise you this time is different. I know this family. The McKinleys are great people.

She knew them how, exactly? Were we talking churchies or people she waved to as she drove past their picture-perfect house without knowing their secrets?

Raising a brow at her, I waited for her to explain.

This should be good. I forced myself to shove down any kind of hope that tried to bloom.

I've known Holly for a long time. She's the mom and she's an amazing author.

Nice. So she writes mommy porn and pawns it to the masses?

A scowl I'd become very accustomed to spread across her face. No. She writes children's books, thank you very much.

With my hands held up in defense, I leaned away from her against the car door. Down, girl. Don't take it personally.

I knew talking down to her like a dog was pushing my luck. As far as I was concerned, my luck ran out the day I was conceived. That thought alone made my scowl harden.

What does he do?

He's a corporate lawyer. I don't really know much more than that.

Lovely.

I'd been accused of cheating, stealing, lying, assault, inappropriate conduct with a foster sibling, being under the influence of many substances...the list was a mile long. Just thinking about how many times I'd been accused of bogus things made my heart ache. Despair was all that hung in the air over what I called my pathetic little life. There was no point in trying to defend myself with each situation. My heart didn't care what anyone thought now, and quite honestly I didn't give a shit anymore myself. When everyone's mind was already made up about you, hope started to die, right along with your soul. No one believed me then and they weren't going to believe me now.

All I'm saying is give them a chance. I think if you do, you'll find they could be exactly what you've always wanted.

Give them a chance like I'd always been given? A chance to become the new house slave. I pushed away the memories of every surface I'd been forced to clean while everyone else sat around and smoked... or worse. The chance to become the new source of a disposable income that I'd never see a red cent of? Or my personal favorite, the go-to guy for the blame game. My emotions were in shutdown mode as I retreated further into myself.

I stared back out my window and muttered, Yeah, I've always wanted to be the black kid saved by a bunch of white people, because we've seen how well that's worked out before. Whatever.

---

Watching the trees go by, we finally turned into a subdivision and I couldn't help but do a double-take in every direction. The burbs weren't really the type of place that would take in bastards like me. Well, I guess orphan was a more appropriate term, but who cared? Marsha must have noticed the look on my face when I let my indifference slip. My fingers stopped their furious tap dance on my knee as a lazy grin crept up at the corners of her mouth, but she didn't say anything.

When we pulled into the driveway of the giant two-story brick estate with the porch that ran the length of the house, with a well-manicured lawn and three-car garage, I felt more out of place than I ever had before. My leg bounced, giving away the anxiety gnawing at me as I gawked at everything out the window. Who the hell has a three-car garage? I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore. It looked more like a mansion than any house I'd ever seen. Marsha put her car in park and shut it off. We just sat there in silence while she let me take in everything before us.

Maybe it could be different...but then again, life had always taught me if it seemed too good to be true, it most definitely was. Hope tried to swell in my chest, but I wouldn't allow it. I shoved it down.

Should we go in? Her voice pulled me out of my trance. With a nod, I agreed and followed her to the front door.

Two knocks was all it took before the front door flew open and a little girl with red curly hair and a bright smile stood before us. Hi!

Hi, Violet! How are you? Marsha asked.

Violet Ann! How many times do I have to tell you not to open that damn door by yourself? a woman's voice yelled from inside the house.

Great—another screamer. Dread coursed through my veins.

Swear Jar! someone else yelled.

I'm good. Are you my new brother? Mommy said we getting a new bubby. What's yer name? My name's Violet. Like the flower, not the color. I don't like the color—

Dear God, someone give this kid a Xanax. I rolled my eyes and shot Marsha a are you kidding me kind of glare.

Instantly the hallway was filled with a tall, bigger lady with the same untamed red hair as the little chatterbox's. Her smile was so bright, her alabaster skin almost showed no contrast. Hi, Marsha! Sorry, I lost track of time. Come on in. Vi, go pick up your toys before someone breaks their neck.

I had no idea what the hell was going on. It was as if I was being pulled in twenty directions and I was standing completely still. Everything looked like complete chaos.

Fan-freaking-tastic.

The little girl stomped her foot and wrapped her arms around herself. I don't want to.

The woman, who I assumed was going to be my new mommy dearest, turned a hard glare on her tiny spawn. If you stomp that foot at me one more time...it's coming off, young lady. Get your ass in there and pick up now or there are going to be a lot of little girls with new toys.

Swear jar! the same voice yelled.

What kind of circus was I being dumped into? The dread grew stronger with each passing moment. Sure. This was going to different, she said. Different, my ass.

We followed Hilary or whatever her name was into the living room.

Please have a seat. Let me go get Kate.

Marsha leaned into my shoulder and whispered, Take off your shoes.

Heat crept up my cheeks. There was a giant hole in my sock.

My glare turned hard. No way.

Please just do it.

I groaned and ignored her as I flopped into the recliner in the corner of the spacious living room. It was the first time I really took a good look at everything. The cream carpet stretched across the living room floor into the dining room. They had two full-sized chocolate leather couches. I mean who the hell has two full-sized couches? How many people live in this joint? The chatterbox was throwing toys into a large toy box in the corner next to the impressive fireplace with the big-ass plasma TV hanging over it. I didn't think I'd ever been in a house this nice or clean before. Wonder how many kids they'd forced to clean it?

Footsteps on the stairs interrupted my train of thought as Heidi or whoever came down with a tall, thin strawberry blonde about my age behind her.

I know, she mumbled to Red.  

What did she know? What had she been told about me? I kept my eyes glued to her as she came into the room and sat down on the couch across from me. Red sat down beside her, letting out a big sigh, and looked me dead in the eyes. Hi. I'm so happy you're here. I'm Holly. She gestured toward Blondie. This is Kate—she's seventeen. And the little terror who accosted you at the door is Violet, and she's six.

To make sure I started off on the right foot, I had to push some buttons. It was only fair. And how old are you?

Too damn young to have kids this old, she retorted without skipping a beat.

Swear jar, both girls yelled at her.

Aha. At least I knew who the voice belonged to now.

Swear jar? Really, Holls? Marsha laughed and shook her head.

Hey, I'm trying. I'm getting better.

Kate scoffed. Oh, bullcrap. Don't let her lie to you. At the rate she's going, I'll have my entire college tuition and a full retirement fund before I turn eighteen.

Red launched a pillow at Blondie and then turned her attention back to me. Okay, so maybe I curse a lot. It's a habit I'm trying to break.

Don't you write children's books? I couldn't help but interject.

She laughed. Yeah. If those snotty bitches only knew.

My mouth hung open in utter shock. Did she really just say that? In front of Marsha too? A rouge rush of adrenaline ran through me while I waited for something to happen. They'd usually wait until after she left before the cursing and chaos ensued.

Swear jar, Blondie whisper-yelled.

Oh hush.

Marsha cleared her throat. Well, since he won't introduce himself, this is Dante. He's seventeen and he's excited to be here too.

I rolled my eyes at the dumb-ass introduction she'd given a million times before.

I'm happy you're here too, Little Red piped up from beside me, causing me to jump out of my own skin.

My heart was in my throat, thumping as if it was going to jump out. I hadn't even noticed she was next to me.

Well, we are all happy you're here. My husband and son aren't home right now. They went hunting, so you'll meet them later on.

I nodded. There wasn't much to say.

Do you play any sports or is there anything you're interested in? Blondie asked.

Nope. My poker face was on and I was purposefully giving them nothing to work with.

Well, since you asked: I play softball. So does my sister, Blondie remarked with a ton of attitude.

I glanced down at the curly redheaded mop next to me and then back at her. Her? You don't look like sisters.

Big Red clapped her hands together. I guess I should explain our family dynamic. It's a little different from the norm, I guess? She flicked her eyes to Marsha, who nodded for her to continue.

Kate is mine from a previous marriage, and Nash is my stepson from my husband Kyle's first marriage. I've been around since he was a toddler, but for all intents and purposes I'm his evil stepmother. She exchanged a knowing glance with Kate as they shared some secret smile. No idea what the hell that was about. Violet is ours together. Kate lives with us full time and doesn't see her dad often. Nash lives with his mom full time and he comes here every other weekend.

I pulled my brows together and tried to put it all together while she continued. It took me a minute to process everything.

Her own kid... a stepkid...and she wanted a spawn to share so she popped one out, got it. Wait.

I met Kate's eyes. Why do you not see your dad very much? There are skeletons in these closets.

That's none of your damn business, she snapped with a face that made me flinch.

And shit just got really weird.

Swear jar, Little Red piped up.

Despite the noise next to me, I shook it off and tried to focus on the information overload. Wait. What about Nate's mom? You guys all hate each other, right?

Red shook her head. "Nash's mom and I get along just fine. Nash and Kate have grown up together so there is a lot of co-parenting and history here. I know it's probably a lot to digest."

I couldn't believe what they'd told me. So you're friends with his mom? What about your ex? What the hell do you do, sing 'Kumbaya' around a campfire too?

Everyone nodded, including Marsha.

What kind of circus did you bring me into? My chest felt like it was constricting and I couldn't breathe. Exes being friends had only ever meant trouble in my experience. I didn't trust any of this.

Not only were Kate's brows pulled together, but her stare could have rivaled Medusa's You know, for someone who doesn't want to be judged by their rap sheet you're awfully judgmental. She pushed out of her chair and hustled up the stairs.

Kate! Holly called right before I heard a door slam.

Well, that didn't take long. My rap sheet. What the hell did Marsha tell these people about me?

Holly sat back down and kept her eyes on mine. Here's the thing, Dante. I know you've been dealt a shitty hand—

Swear jar, the little voice next to me interjected. They glared at each other before Holly continued.

Anyway, I know you don't have a reason to trust us yet, and I get that. Give us a chance before you write us off.

Why should I? What makes you so special? I couldn't keep the disdain from my tone. She seemed nice enough, but it could all be a huge deception. They always put on a nice act in the beginning—especially when Marsha was there.

We're not. We are a blended family. We've figured out how to navigate life and try to leave all the unnecessary drama out. Yes, we are very unconventional, and it works for us. You can stay with us and give our circus family a shot or you can go back to the group home. The choice is yours. Her voice stayed steady. Not an ounce of anger lingered in the words she spoke.

Blended family?

She was friends with her husband's ex-wife.

No shit they were unconventional. My chest was too tight and it felt like I was gasping for breath.

I needed some air.

I sat down on the porch swing and rocked back and forth. My thoughts were all over the place along with the swirling clouds of my emotions. My toes scraped across the ground when I heard the front door open and close.

Marsha came over and sat beside me. Bringing out the big guns already huh?

I pursed my lips together and continued to rock.

Toe to heel. Heel to toe.

This is your last chance, Dante. I've exhausted all other options. Do you want to go back to the group home and have to fight for scraps? Do you want to have to look over your shoulder every five minutes again? Or worse? One more screwup and you're going to end up in jail.

That was the last thing I wanted. My stomach plummeted and churned at the mention of the group home. I hadn't had a decent night's sleep in years. I couldn't trust my surroundings and was never able to let down my guard.

No.

Then stop acting like a little jerk the second you walk in the door. They're good people that want to give you a second chance at life. Take it.

Narrowing my eyes at her, I had to ask, What makes you think this is a second chance? I'm going to age out of the system soon. It's too late for me to start over.

That's where you're wrong, Holly chimed in from the front door.

I clutched my chest over my racing heart. I hadn't even heard her come out. These people were hell-bent on scaring me to death. She stepped in our direction and leaned against the side of the house.

My words were frozen. My mind suddenly went blank.

Marsha has told me about you for years. I've always wanted to help, but I've never fostered before. It took me this long to get through the process and get approved so I would be able to. Let me help. If anything, you have a safe place to sleep and you'll never go hungry. She smacked the sides of her round hips. Believe me, I love to eat.

I laughed. I couldn't help it. She'd made fun of her big ass but not in a self-deprecating way I'd seen a million times before.

Maybe she was different.

Seriously, though, it's your choice.

My choice? I'd never been given the chance to choose what I wanted. I eyed her with suspicion. What else did I have to lose? Could I make it here long enough to age out? Or was that really reaching for too much? The battle within myself waged for only a few seconds before I gave in.

I'll give it a shot.

Great. I'll get your bag. Marsha practically jumped off the swing and ran to her car.

After her famous death glare and the threat that I'd better behave, we said our goodbyes and Marsha left. Holly invited me into the kitchen for a snack. I would have declined, but the rumble in my stomach wouldn't allow me. I couldn't really remember the last time I'd had a full meal. Sad, wasn't it?

Do you like mayo? Holly stacked a monster of a sandwich together.

No.

Hah. Finally someone else to join the anti-mayo brigade.

My brows furrowed together as I tried to figure out what planet this chick came from.

She finished the double stack from heaven and pushed it to me. Dig in. While you eat, I guess I'll go over the way things work around here.

I had to squeeze the sandwich together to try to fit my mouth around it. My non-reply must have been an okay for her to continue. Oh.My.God, it was heaven. With each crunch of bacon and lettuce, my eyes rolled into the back of my head.

First off, I'm not the maid. If that was the case, Kyle would have kicked me out a long time ago. She shot me a sheepish grin. Everyone is expected to clean up after themselves. Dinnertime, we eat together every night at the table. If it's softball season and we're running to practices, dinner is usually later so there are plenty of snacks for after school to hold you over.

Snack? Dinners are eaten together? It's like Brady bunch bullshit.

It was information overload and I wasn't sure how to feel about it all.

I know you've had to scrape for food before...That's not the case here. If it's in the pantry or fridge and you want it, eat it. Unless someone's name is on it, everything's fair game. If there's something specific you like to eat, we will get it. Let me know your favorite meal and I'll make it.

No locked pantry? She couldn't be serious. My stomach growled at the thought of never having to go hungry again.

"Um, what else? Oh, school. You will go to school every day unless you're sick. We expect good passing grades. Ds and Fs won't cut it."

Good thing I could get As, then. She probably thinks I'm illiterate.

I nodded and took another huge bite.

Chores—

And this was where she'd drop the bomb. You are now my bitch, boy.

Everyone has their own chores. Do your stuff on your list every week and you'll get an allowance. Don't do it, you don't get paid.

Allowance? Seriously? I cocked my head to the side and watched her, waiting for the punch line that never came.

You'll share a room with Nash, but it'll basically be your room because he's not here much.

I wondered if they were the shitty metal bunk beds with the cot mattresses I didn't fit on.

We weren't sure what you liked so we took the liberty of picking you out a comforter and sheet set. I hope they'll be okay.

Did she go out of her way to buy me my own stuff? My mind was muddled as I tried to process the depth of this woman's kindness.

Shove it down. Change the subject. How old is Norm?

"Nash is also seventeen. He and Kate are only a couple months apart in age."

That's strange.

Holly leveled her eyes with mine. I'm not accusing you of anything, but I'm going to put this out there. It goes for the same for everyone in this house. Do not steal from me and do not lie to me. If you want something, ask me and I'll do my best to provide it, within reason. You'll get a lot further with me by telling the truth instead of lying. You'll come to find I'm pretty laid back if you do what I ask. Kate calls me a hippie, she said with a laugh.

She couldn't be for real. I swallowed the rest of my bite and asked the question I'd been dying to have answered: If you've never fostered before, and you already have three kids, why would you want a juvenile delinquent to move in? Seems like you have the perfect life, so why mess it up? I braced myself for the harsh words that usually followed this line of questioning.

She paused a beat, like she was really thinking about my question. Our life is far from perfect, but we work together, as a family. And I took you in because you needed someone genuine to give you a hand, yes?

I guess. I just don't understand your angle. Why did I just say that aloud? Prepare for backlash, jackass.

The look in her chocolate eyes softened. I didn't think I'd ever met a redhead with brown eyes before. Focus, D.

There is no angle. She shrugged. Every child deserves to know what unconditional love is. No one should ever have to go through the things you've been through. She paused and forced a smile. I guess the real reason for this is because I want you to know there's still good in the world.

I'm almost eighteen. I'm not a child anymore. I rolled my eyes at the obvious.

"You were never