Accent Hussy (It Had 2 B U) (27 page)

“Oh stop looking at me that way! I know you fucked Tony. Don’t worry; I won’t tell Max. I also know that you’re so hung up on this boxer guy that I have nothing to worry about. The problem is, Tony wants to change me, and I just don’t think I’m ready to change for any man.”

“You know about me and Tony, and you still talk to me?”

“You got spunk, Everly. I respect spunk. I respect any woman who can stand up for what she believes and keeps her man in place. The problem I do see with you, is that you’re young. Trust me, I love a man with an accent just as much as you do, but you can’t base a future off just a voice. A man is only as good as his character. You need to find a man who challenges you, one that keeps you on your toes, one that makes your heart race and your head spin. When you find that, that’s the man you need to keep—not one with a sexy voice.”

Every word she says rings true. I have all of that and more with Caleb. Am I being young and stupid for denying the chemistry we have? Should I just give in to all the temptations just being near him brings to me?

“I can see your wheels turning. My suggestion, give your fighter a try. What’s the worst that can happen? You fuck, you date, you break up, you end up being right about him the whole time. You already
hate
him now. If you don’t work out, nothing will change.” She air quotes the word hate and I frown.

She has a point. A good one. Maybe I will give Caleb a chance.

Maybe.

“So what about Tony? Does he challenge you? Keep you on your toes? Make your heart race and your head spin?” Emma stares blankly, but never answers me.

I tossed and turned over what happened at the bar all night. I couldn’t stop thinking about poor Maggie. I texted her to check on her, but she didn’t answer me. I texted Breezy next. She told me that she couldn’t get Maggie to stop freaking out. It wasn’t until she got home and into Dashawn’s arms that she finally started to calm down. You gotta love that Chocolate God of hers; he really knows how to handle her.

I thought a lot about everything. I thought about Hopscotch and how I was going to get through to her. I hate the way she cowers anytime a man comes her way. No matter how hard I try, she just won’t open up to me. I need to figure out how to get through to her. What can I say or do to make her fully trust me and let me in? I know something is seriously wrong with her, but until I can find out what it is, like Caleb said, I’m at a loss.

Fucking Caleb, like clockwork, that man invaded my dreams and I was thrown back into our night at Vegas: his massive hands exploring my body; the way his lips felt tracing my skin, following the contours of my body until it met the softness of my slit; and how his tongue invaded my insides swirling my clit, diving deep within me as I moaned his name, writhing beneath him. I remember those fucking fingers of his as they flirted with my ass, flicking at the hole as he pleasured me. I woke up just as dream Caleb plunged inside me, head was dripping with sweat. My fingers underneath the blankets playing with my clit. I ended up laughing about it, because seriously, who the fuck wakes up from a wet dream diddling themselves? Me, obviously.

My Caleb fantasy makes it almost impossible to function at both the gym and The Youth Center. This is especially so at The Youth Center, where Caleb is all over Kristene. I thought hard about what Emma said, but in the end, telling Caleb about the mixed feelings I’ve been having about him is pointless. I definitely didn’t want to say shit to him when he and Kristene walk through the door at the same time. She’s smiling, he’s laughing, and I’m ready to stab someone.

The day only gets worse from there. Something is seriously off with Hopscotch, more so than usual. I decide today is the day I’m going to get her to open up to me.

It’s almost four and the girls and I are sitting in the craft area making friendship bracelets. I notice that Hopscotch is sitting off by herself, barely participating. I excuse myself from NJ and BC and walk over to her, laying a friendly arm across her shoulders. The moment I touch her, she jumps and coils away from me.

“Hopscotch, are you okay?”

She looks up at me and I notice that her eyes have dark circles around them. She’s wearing a long sleeve t-shirt and baggy sweat pants. Her hair is tangled and matted to her head. She looks tired and sad, and I notice her cheeks are stained with tears. She jumps up from the chair and runs from the room.

NJ sidles up next to me and tugs on my shirt. “Hopscotch is part of the FCS. The family she lives with aren’t nice people. She doesn’t say anything but we think they hurt her.” The girls call the Foster Care System FCS; I notice that they abbreviate a lot of things, especially names.

“Hurt her how?”

NJ shrugs her shoulders. “She won’t tell us nothing. She’s our friend, but what goes on in her home, she doesn’t talk about.” I hug NJ and ask one of the volunteers to watch the girls while I go off and find Hopscotch.

When I find her, she’s talking to that creepy guy Stephen. I’m not liking the way he’s looking at her or the not-so-friendly hand he has way too low on her back. He glares at me when I walk up. Hopscotch lurches into my arms.

“She was crying; I was trying to console her,” he quickly says.

She pulls on my shirt and brings me down to her so she can whisper in my ear. “He touches me,” she whispers. I glare at him and my protective instincts take over.

I snatch her into my arms, even though she makes a sound of protest. I pick her up and carry her into the bathroom, sitting her on the counter. She’s crying and I grab a hand towel so I can wipe away her tears.

“What’s your real name?” I ask, starting the conversation.

“Holly,” she whispers.

“Where’s your parents?”

“I’m a foster care reject. Nobody wants me, not even my real mommy and daddy.”

“Oh I’m sure that’s not the case. You’re an amazing little girl. I’m sure you have a line of people waiting to adopt you.”

She blinks at me. “The only people who want me, hurt me.” Her words break me in two. Instantly, I’m feeling out of control. I want to protect her. I want to hurt everyone that has ever hurt her.

“Holly, you said that he touched you. What did you mean?” Holly looks at her feet. Her shoes have holes in them.I notice that her socks are red with blood.

“Like the people I live with. They touch me, too.”

“Can you show me how they touch you?”

She kicks her feet again and shakes her head. “I’m not supposed to tell.”

“It’s okay; you can tell me.”

She looks up at me with hopeful eyes. I can see the pain in them, too. This little girl has never had anyone care about her before.

“Mr. Peterson, my foster dad, he has that man over to the house sometimes. They like to take pictures of me and do stuff.” She’s crying now. “They hurt me. When I try to say stop, they hurt me even more.”

She lifts her shirt and shows me the bruises along her stomach. “They say they love me. Why does love hurt, Miss Everly?”

I’m crying so hard I can barely contain myself. I grab the precious little girl in my arms and hold her tightly. “It shouldn’t hurt, Holly. Love should never hurt like this. We’re going to get you some help okay? That way nobody can hurt you ever again.”

She nods and keeps her arms tight around my neck as I carry her from the room. I’m gentle with her, making sure I don’t touch any of her bruises. I’m quick on my feet and carry her into Trisha’s office. She’s working on some paperwork.

“I need you to keep her in here. Don’t let her out of your sight, Trisha. I’m going to talk to Mr. C.”

Trisha’s eyes widen. “He’s busy right now. You can’t go in there, Everly. You’ll have to wait.”

“I don’t care how busy he is. I need to talk to him and it’s going to happen right now.” I march out of her office while she sputters in dispute. Caleb’s door is closed. I’ve been warned when Caleb’s door is closed you don’t open it for any reason. Unfortunately, I have this very bad habit of doing the exact opposite of what Caleb wants, so I burst into his office.

On the couch is Kristene and Caleb. They’re making out and jump about five feet apart when I enter. Kristene glares at me. Caleb looks both amused and confused. He jumps up from the couch, straightening his collar that is slightly askew. What he didn’t plan on is the massive bright pink lip stain tattoo spread all across his mouth. “Get the fuck out, Everly. Can’t you see we’re busy?” Kristene snaps.

“I need to talk to you, Caleb, now.”

He looks from me to Kristene and smiles. “Kristene, can you give us a minute please?”

“Oh hell no! You’re not going to kick me out of your office right in the middle of us making out. I’ve waited eight months for this to happen and I’m not about to let some stupid felon cock block my time with you.” She turns and faces me. “I told you bitch, he’s mine. Now back the fuck off before I kick your ass.”

“Look, I’m not even trying to get with Caleb, okay? I’ve already been there and done that. I have something very important to discuss with him, and frankly whatever jealous bitch thing you have going on is going to have to wait.”

Her mouth drops. “Wait, what? You two have been together before?”

“Yes, so maybe next time you open your mouth to spit out random bitchisms, you’ll remember just whose pussy you’re tasting on his lips,” I remark smugly. I really didn’t want to go down this road, but I’m kinda tired of Kristene’s ‘Caleb is mine’ attitude.

“Kristene, please just go. I promise to call you back in here when we’re done,” Caleb soothes her.

She turns to him and gives him a big sloppy kiss—one I can hear all the way on the other side of the room. She sounds like a dog licking water from a bowl. Caleb pushes her away and physically escorts her from the office. Once she’s gone, he turns the lock and puts his back against the door barricading us inside.

“I knew it would only take a few weeks of seeing me with other girls before it drove you crazy. Admit it, Everly. You like me.”

Ugh, could he be any more conceited? “Caleb, this is more important than whatever weird flirting thing you and I do. I really need you to listen to me here.”

“Oh, I’m listening, while picturing you naked.” He takes an alpha step towards me. “I haven’t stopped picturing it since Vegas. I’ve never met a girl that I’ve wanted more than you, and it’s not just your looks. It’s everything: the fire of your personality clashing with mine, the feel of your lips on my own, and the way we fit perfectly together, but might as well be puzzle pieces from different puzzles. I really think you’re it for me, Everly. Stop making me try to gain your attention by being with other people. I don’t want to be with anybody but you.” He’s in front of me now. His hands slide up my arms and my whole body tingles. I hate it and love it, all at the same time. There’s something about his rough calloused hands grazing my skin that makes me swoon. If he wasn’t covered in Kristene right now, I’d probably let him kiss me. Knowing he was just making out with her does not turn me on at all. I end up removing myself from his tingling hands.

“Caleb, please listen to me. I didn’t come here because of us; I came here . . .”

“Because you love me.”

“Because I think one of my girls is being molested.”

The hand he was lifting to brush a piece of hair out my face drops and his face falls. The air in the room changes to a tense seriousness. “What do you mean?”

“Sit down please. This is going to take a minute to explain.” He obeys my request and sits in his chair. I take a deep breath. The moment I start thinking about Holly again, the tears start falling. This little girl has totally grabbed my heartstrings and is pulling them like some master puppeteer.

“Everly, it’s going to be okay. Tell me what you know.”

I go into a whole spiel about Holly. I tell him about finding her near the janitor and his not-so-friendly hand on her back. The creepy vibe he gives me. I tell Caleb what Holly whispered into my ear about Stephen touching her, how her foster dad has him over and takes pictures and finally how she asked me why love has to hurt. I’m full on sobbing and somehow, I’ve ended up on the couch cradled into Caleb’s arms. It’s comforting and I careen my head so it fits into his shoulder. I feel his lips on the top of my head, I let him kiss me. Right now, I need to feel safe. My emotions are out of control, all because I’m worrying about this little girl. Caleb holding me is the only thing keeping me from marching out and killing the janitor.

“What can we do, Caleb? I want to help her.”

He exhales a long drawn out sigh. “Unfortunately, the foster care system is a bitch. A lot of the kids get placed in homes as an afterthought. Most families only sign up to get the paycheck from the state. They don’t actually care about the kids. In Holly’s case, she got a shit deal. There are some sick people out there and it sounds like this Mr. Peterson guy is one of them. I’ll make a couple calls. The bad part is she’ll probably end up in another house just as bad if not worse.”

The thought of Holly ending up in a home that could be worse than what she already is in terrifies me. There’s absolutely no way I’m going to allow this little girl to be hurt ever again. Then it hits me! I’ll become a foster parent. I’ll take Holly in.

“No she won’t. I’m going to take her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll apply to be a foster parent, or I’ll have my mom and dad do it since I live with them. Holly can come stay with us. I’m going to make sure that little girl knows what real love feels like and no one ever hurts her again.”

Caleb grabs my shoulders and maneuvers me so I look him in the eyes. “That’s a really nice thought, Everly, but that’s not how it works. They put her where they think she needs to be. You can’t just request her. Besides, you can’t save every kid that comes through this place. Trust me, I know.”

“That’s the second time you’ve said that to me. What do you mean?”

He frowns. “A couple years back, a kid named Jacob used to come here. He was in a gang at twelve years old and he was hanging out with the local street thugs. When he first came here, he thought he was tough shit, tried to stake his claim over the boys that went here. He was a bully. I took an interest in him, because I wanted to change him. It became a game and my own personal project. Jacob was really combative at first. Every time I tried to get through to him, he would end up disappearing for a couple days and come back even harder than he was before. Then, one day, I was working late and saw someone creeping by my window. I went outside and found Jacob curled up against the side of the building, nearly beaten to death. I took him to the hospital. He ended up staying with me for a couple weeks. During that time together, he opened up to me. His mom was a prostitute junky who was constantly tweaked out on cocaine. He didn’t know who his dad was because it was one of her clients that ended up knocking her up. As he grew up, he was taken under the wing of his next-door neighbor. Poor kid. The neighbor is a notorious badass around this area; he’s the head of the gang and took a liking to Jacob because he was young and impressionable. I offered for Jacob to stay with me full time in exchange for him not messing with the gang scene anymore. It worked for a couple months. He picked up boxing. I taught him everything I knew. He was really good at it, too—picked it up fast and he had a really great right cross. I really felt like I had changed him. Then one day, I saw him talking to a couple thugs outside the building. He gave me this nervous look as I watched the two men cart him off. I tried to stop them, but they flashed me their guns and got into a car. I had way too many kids lingering around the center at the time and couldn’t chase after him or take the chance that someone innocent could get hurt. I wrote down the license plate number and called the police. They wouldn’t do anything about it because of where he came from and the gang involvement. The next day, I got the call . . . Jacob was found shot to death, his body discarded in a sewage drain pipe, five miles out of town. They called me because my number was in his pocket. I swore I would never go out of my way to help a kid like that ever again. Jacob broke me.”