In Control (The City Series) (29 page)

I didn’t expect to see Mr. Henderson on his stomach, his arms handcuffed behind his back. I didn’t expect to find Mrs. Henderson crying and pleading with the policeman. I never expected to see all eight kids huddled into the corner of the living room, each one wearing frightened expressions.

“W-what’s going on?” I stuttered. I stepped into the living room, searching all of the faces for answers.

“Kingsley,” Kelly said, walking toward me. “I realize this is a very scary scene to witness, and—”

“Please stop talking to me like I’m a child!” I demanded.

The activity in the room quieted as everyone focused on me.

Kelly whispered, “Of course.” She politely smiled and gave me the CliffsNotes version of what was happening.

Her explanation only left me wanting more answers. The police were arresting the Hendersons, believing that I was lying to protect them. Kelly explained that she realized I was terrified, so she asked my brothers and sisters. Andrew confessed to seeing Mrs. Henderson hurt me.

Tears spilled over my eyes, knowing that Drew had sacrificed his family and himself for me. He was smart enough to know that if he told the police what his parents had done to me, he would be taken out of their care. When I looked at him, fear covered his face, yet he still smiled, and with everything I had left in me, I smiled back, hoping to reassure him.

“What’s going to happen?” I asked.

The Hendersons were now locked in the back of the cop cars and the neighbors stood outside of the house, watching the scene unfold.

“We have to take you and your siblings to the children’s home, Kingsley,” Kelly said. Her face was sad as she spoke. She knew most kids were terrified to go into the unknown place.

My heart plummeted. I ran over and picked up Drew, who began crying on my shoulder.

“Kingsley, I thought I was helping you. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get Mommy and Daddy in trouble!” he cried.

My stomach clenched and I wished I could explain to him how he was actually
saving
me. “Drew Bear, it’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.” I embraced him as I explained where we were going. I put my bravest face on and told him that the home we were going to had lots of other kids. Some were happy, but others were sad. I needed him to understand that this place would be much different than his home. He wouldn’t see his parents anymore, and he probably wouldn’t see me very much. His courage made me believe that he’d be okay. He was much stronger than I was.

When I woke up this morning, I didn’t expect to have my heart broken. I didn’t expect to be torn away from my little brother, or this home. Porter stabbed me in the back, and the sorry I was expecting from him didn’t come. I was sore, but not from Mrs. Henderson’s hands. Every part of me felt like I’d been dragged for miles from the back of a truck.

I hated what Porter had done to me. I hated what the Hendersons had put me through. I couldn’t stand not knowing what tomorrow would bring, because at least when I was under the Hendersons’ care, I could prepare myself for the worst.

As I lay in the unfamiliar bed that night, wide awake, staring at the white ceiling, I wasn’t sure what I would find when I opened my eyes in the morning. I was too old to be noticed in the foster care system. Parents weren’t looking for a fourteen-year-old girl to take care of, they were looking for young kids. Like Drew.

I wanted to believe that my life wasn’t over. I needed to believe that somehow it would get better.

I took out my notebook, packed within the few belongings Kelly allowed me to take, and began writing down things I would never let happen to me again.

Three days had passed since Jay’s party.

Three days had passed since I last saw Porter.

I was thankful for that, but there was something deep inside of me that wanted to see him. I guess you could say I needed closure. I needed some sort of magic potion that could make me forget all about him.

The day Porter ruined my life was one of the worst days I’d ever lived. Being told by someone you practically worshipped that they don’t love you anymore is a torture that no one should ever have to endure. The words are like a chainsaw ripping into your chest, allowing every broken piece of your heart to pour out onto the ground.

I guess you could say I needed closure.

I woke this morning in the guest bedroom, the sun beating on my face. The sheer curtains did me no favors, allowing the brightness to wake me earlier than I wanted. My body lay motionless on the bed, but that didn’t stop my limbs from feeling restless.

Yesterday, Wren’s father took us out on his boat. I’d never been on one, and after the first hour, I could feel myself growing bored of looking out into the water. I didn’t express that, of course. Wren and his father looked happy as they bonded over being “out in the water among the creatures of the sea!”

His father made me laugh when he said that. I’d never met someone so outdoorsy; someone who actually
wanted
to be outside amid Earth’s elements. I grew up in New York, where people rushed from one place to the next, never stopping to admire the beauty that the city had to offer. I was one of those people, but being around Wren’s father brought something out of me. Two hours in, I looked past my boredom and felt an appreciation for my surroundings.

The entire time we were out on the Atlantic Ocean, I mostly sat near the front of the boat. I called it the sunbathing area. While Wren and his father were busy talking and fishing, I soaked up the sun, mesmerized by the sounds around me—the birds flying over the ocean, the waves splashing against the side of the boat, the wind whipping through the sails. I embraced the noises, and for the first time in my life, my mind was free.

I picked up my phone from the nightstand, curious to see what time it was. Instead of checking the time, my eyes went to a text left on the screen.

“Meet me this morning? P.”

I’d never given Porter my cell phone number and the thought of him having access to me made me sick to my stomach.

I shouldn’t reply.

I can’t reply.

I did reply.

“How did you get my number?”

Thirty seconds passed and my screen lit up.

“I have my ways. Meet me?”

I studied the words that invaded my screen, my life. The rational thing to do would be to ignore his texts, erase each and every one of them. If Wren found out that Porter had my number, if he found out that Porter was trying to get me to meet him, he’d go crazy.

No longer was my mind free. Instead, it was corrupted with thoughts of Porter. He was a disease that attacked my brain cells, and instead of fighting him off, they surrendered.

I needed the closure, so I sent one more text that I knew I’d regret.

“Meet me at the same spot you found me on the first night. Twenty minutes.”

I didn’t wait for a reply. I knew I’d given in to Porter, much like I’d given in every time in the past. I guess I wasn’t as strong as I thought I was. Not caring about my appearance, I rolled out of bed and moved toward my still unpacked bag. Wren had given me grief about not unpacking, but I’d always had a problem with that sort of thing. It took me months to unpack once I moved in with Trish. I’d kept everything in the tattered suitcase I’d had since I was a kid. When I did finally unpack, it was because Trish had proven to me that I could trust her. She’d acted like a mother to me, or at least what I assumed a mother would act like.

I threw on a pair of jeans and a black tank top. My hair, which had gotten wet from sailing yesterday, was a mess of curls piled on top of my head. I gave myself a quick glance in the mirror and laughed at my uncanny resemblance to a pineapple.

I brushed my teeth quickly, slid on a beat up pair of flip flops, and took a deep breath. I was ready to go. I was ready to meet Porter. I quietly opened the bedroom door, thankful to see that Wren’s was still closed. The hallway clock told me that it was only seven in the morning, which meant the beach would be clear. No witnesses. My footsteps down the stairs were as quiet as I could make them, and I tried my best to avoid the squeaking sound my shoes made on the polished floor.

“Kingsley, you’re awake early.”

The sound of Evelyn’s voice was enough to send me into hysterics. If she found out I was on my way to meet my ex, she’d have every bit of evidence she’d need to send me packing. Over the last few days, we’d pretty much avoided conversation with each other. She’d ask me if I’d like coffee or if I needed anymore towels in my bedroom, but never anything personal. It’s like she already assumed the worst, so why take the time to figure me out. Wren’s father, on the other hand, had asked me questions about my life. He never got too personal, skirting around details of my past and sticking with questions like what part of the city did I grow up in and where did I go to high school. I appreciated his questions only because he wasn’t nosy like most people I’d come across in my life.

“Hi,” I said, turning around to meet Mrs. Kavanagh’s eyes. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d go sit on the beach.” I gave a small smile, hoping she wouldn’t suspect my lies.

“You weren’t on the water long enough yesterday?” The disbelief in her voice was evident.

Of course she didn’t believe me. She wanted to not like me, so why would she think I would do something as innocent as sit on the beach?

“I guess not,” I answered. I stood, my back to the door, and stared at everything in the room except Wren’s mother.

“Kingsley, can we have a chat for a few minutes?” The question came out almost hopeful, the tone in her voice cheerful, unlike every other time she’d spoken to me.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” I followed her into the kitchen, still trying my best to keep my shoes from squeaking on the floor. Typically, I wouldn’t have cared about that, but Wren’s mother seemed to be trying on her nice side today, so I did the same.

After motioning me to sit in the chair next to hers, she poured a cup of coffee into her mug and asked if I’d like some. I nodded, knowing that this would take longer than just a few minutes. I was tempted to take my phone out of my pocket and text Porter that I’d changed my mind, but something in me needed to see him.

“I realize I’ve been unfair to you these past few days,” she said. She took a small sip of her coffee. “Let me explain some things.”

I took a drink from my own mug, hoping the warm coffee could help the nerves in the pit of my stomach.

“Wren hasn’t brought a lot of girls over to meet us. I guess you could say he’s quite particular about the girls he dates. The ones we
have
met, well, I’ve only liked one of them, and I liked her up until the point I found out she was cheating on my son. You can imagine how I felt about her afterward.”

She smiled, not one of the ones I was used to, the ones where she was just being polite. She smiled a genuine smile, as if she were actually enjoying my company. I smiled back.

“When you first got here, I sized you up right away and made assumptions about you that were completely unfair. I noticed the way Wren was around you and I’d only seen him that way with the one girl that broke his heart. I’m sorry if I’m telling you too much; I’m not sure if he’s discussed this with you yet.”

“Are you talking about Paige?” I asked.

“Paige, yes, I’m glad he’s talked to you about her.” She nodded. “Wren and I don’t actually talk a lot about the girls he’s dated, which is how I knew Paige was important to him. After she cheated on him, and he, well, I’m sure he’s told you that part too… His father and I became very concerned with the type of girls he went after. For a while, he didn’t actually date anyone, or at least he told us he didn’t. When he told us about you, well, I was a bit taken aback. He said he’d met you in a bar?”

“Yes.”

“Right. Well I guess when I heard that, I thought of you as some party girl who only wanted to have fun with my son. The more Wren talked about you, the more concerned I became. I—”

“Mrs. Kavanagh—”

“Please, call me Evelyn.”

“Okay, Evelyn,” I began, “I want you to know that I care for your son. A lot.” The more I spoke, the harder it was to hold back my feelings. I wanted Wren’s mother to know that her son’s heart wasn’t a game to me. “I’ve never been happier with anyone else,” I admitted.