Runaway Love

Copyright © 2015 Pamela Washington

Published May 28, 2015 by Pamela Washington

Cover Design by Danielle Burton

Editing by Tina Donaldson

Formatting by
That Formatting Lady
(Angela Shockley)

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Dedication

Grace

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Acknowledgments

About Pamela

Sneak Peek:
The Protector
, Tony’s Story

Sneak Peek:
The Risk
, Scott’s Story

This book is dedicated to my grandmother, Dorothy…

I hope you're proud of the woman I became. I love and

miss you. Continue to watch over me and the family.

Follow your dreams! It's never too early, and it’s never too late!

Take chances and the rest will follow.

Love...I’m damned if I do, damned if I don't.

How did I get myself into this complicated situation? I just wanted to be loved, to matter to someone, to feel like I’m worth something, to belong…

I grew up in foster care where I met my first love. Hell, the love of my life! He left with a promise to return, but he broke his promise…and my heart. I was shattered! I wanted to die!

But I was saved by a man who loves me, protects me, takes care of me, and worships me. I married him, but I can’t give him my heart. I can’t love him as much as he loves me. We have a son, whom I adore. My life appears to be perfect, but it’s not enough! I still yearn for my first love!

When he returns, I’m faced with a decision…Do I choose what's right or what seems right, but is wrong? Do I choose safe love or
runaway love
?

This is my story, my life…Can I handle it?

All my life I had known nothing but rejection, loneliness, and abandonment. I had no idea what it felt like to be loved or even cared about. I had never felt secure, safe, or protected. I was born into this world just to be neglected and forgotten, and I feared I would die the same way.

No one could ever tell me how I ended up in the foster care system; my case-workers just said I had been there since I was born. How does someone not know how they came to be? I can’t answer that question even though it’s the story of my life. All I know is that I am pretty fucked up inside, and I have no idea how to fix it.

Foster care is a joke for kids like me. Sure, the posters show happy kids who are chosen to be part of happy families, but most kids don’t get to experience that happiness. I certainly didn’t. My case-workers told me it was because I was moody and uncooperative. They told me I needed to try harder to include myself into the families, be a “team player” when I was in a home. Instead, I stayed to myself. I preferred looking out a window, thinking and watching the world pass me by. How could I become a part of a family when I had no idea how to do it? No one taught me how to love or be loved. All I knew was myself. All I knew was that I wouldn’t let myself down; hell, I couldn’t very well abandon myself! So, I was bounced from foster home to foster home for fifteen years until I wound up in a group home run by Ms. Allen.

Ms. Allen’s group home was a special kind of hell, almost like a hell for misfit kids who were outcasts among the millions of kids who lived in the world. It was an old, two-story house that had seen better days. It was clean and organized, thanks to the kids who lived there; but the sadness and despair that lived within its walls seeped into everyone who walked through the front door. It was a place for society’s rejects – the furniture no one else wanted, the food no one else would eat, the clothes no one else would wear, and the kids who no one else wanted…I have no idea how many kids were there at any given time. I preferred to stay to myself, and Ms. Allen didn’t care as long as I completed my chores, didn’t cause any trouble, and stayed out of her way. But trouble always seemed to find me in the form of Paul, a fellow group home member who loved to suck up to Ms. Allen. As a reward for his obedience and loyalty to her, Ms. Allen happily punished me based on whatever lies Paul told her. I don’t know why Paul hated me so much or why he liked to see me suffer. I guess I was just an easy target, and he was just an ass.

I spent my days at Ms. Allen’s writing, drawing, and wishing my life away. I was miserable – I had no friends, school was a nightmare, and no one cared about me. I hated the world as much as it hated me…until Scott saved me from my isolating hell. Scott was the first person to break my protective barrier and get to know me. He showed me what life could be, should be, like with love, understanding, and friendship. Scott was truly everything to me – friend, brother, confidante, protector. He was my whole world, and I thought I was his as well.

Scott and I spent most of our time at Ms. Allen’s together. We talked a lot – well, I talked while he listened. Scott even tried to protect me when Ms. Allen was on one of her tirades; he’d take my punishments for me until Paul told her what was happening. Then she’d get extra satisfaction out of punishing both of us. However, not even Paul and Ms. Allen could ruin my joyful happiness with Scott.

I felt so carefree and light to finally have someone who cared about me, listened to what I had to say, and included me in different activities. I was always content to just be in Scott’s presence. I especially loved watching him play soccer – his talent and skill were over and beyond how the other kids played, but he was a gracious player. He never tried to steal the spotlight or show off; he was a team player first and foremost. I loved Scott even more for that. It showed how much he considered other peoples’ feelings and looked out for those he cared about. Yes, my Scott was truly an amazing guy.