Page 46 of Damaged

“What people?” I asked. I could already feel pieces of myself being chipped away at.

“The ones who worked for the foster care system.”

“Foster care?” I shook my head because I’d never heard those words before.

Dalton was drumming his fingers on the table. They were so close to mine that I ached to wrap my hand around his.

“When kids don’t have a home for whatever reason, they’re placed in foster care. There are people called social workers who try to help find those kids new homes, but it’s not a fast or easy process. While they’re looking, kids end up either in what’s called a group home or they get placed with people who’ve volunteered to take care of them until a permanent family can be found to take the kid in,” Dalton explained. I had a feeling there was a lot more to it than the straightforward picture he was painting.

“Which one were you in? A group home or with a family?” I had no idea what a group home was but based on the name itself, it seemed pretty self-explanatory.

“Both,” Dalton said. The emotion in his voice was slowly bleeding away, each word sounding duller than the previous one.

“How old were you when you found a family? Not the one that was temporary, but a real one?”

Dalton merely shook his head. I wanted to know more but I also didn’t want him to shut down completely. He seemed tired, like the life was draining out of him bit by bit. Part of it was probably the pain medication, but the rest was a clear sign that whatever had happened to him—whether he’d gotten a real family or not—hadn’t gone well.

“What happened?” I gently prodded.

“I bounced around a few foster homes until I was fifteen. Some of the families were good, some not, and some were so packed full of foster kids that it was easy to get lost in them. I liked those the best.”

“You liked being invisible,” I offered.

Dalton nodded. “I figured it would be easier. I’d made the mistake of getting attached to the families early on. It took me a while to understand that no one wanted to keep me forever.”

My heart broke for him as I considered what it would have been like to feel like part of a family one minute only to be sent to another without explanation.

“When I was fifteen, I went to live with this couple who were first-time foster parents. They were nice enough, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that they were in it for the money.”

“Money?” I asked. “Were you… sold?” I felt like I was going to be sick as I remembered the day I’d been traded for a small bag of drugs.

I must have visibly reacted to both his words and my own experience because Dalton closed his fingers around mine. They felt warm and strong.

“How about we go sit outside?” Dalton suggested as he stood and snagged a t-shirt from the fresh laundry I’d finished folding right before I’d confronted him.

I managed a nod as he reached for my hand again, but I knew outside wouldn’t be any better because whatever Dalton was going to tell me would do what I’d feared from the moment he’d picked me up on the side of that busy road.

Break me.

Chapter 15

DALTON

I was relieved when we stepped outside because I finally felt like I could breathe again. My fingers were still linked with Silver’s as we left the house and since he didn’t make a move to let go, neither did I.

As the numbness the whiskey always provided wore off, I began to get bombarded by dozens and dozens of unwelcome memories. I’d told Silver the sanitized version of my childhood because I wasn’t ready to tell him that being invisible hadn’t always worked. I’d been fortunate enough not to have been through what Silver had, but things hadn’t always been sunshine and roses when I’d been handed off from one family to another.

My initial plan was to sit on the swing chair just outside the front door. It was big enough for two and the swaying motion was similar to when I was on my boat.

Similar but not the same.

One glance at my boat and I knew what our destination would be. Between the pills and the alcohol, I was somewhat off balance, but when Silver tucked himself against my side to help support me, I accepted the offer. My thoughts were still reeling from Silver’s blunt words as he’d confronted me with a truth I’d never before let myself believe.

The reality was I hadn’t cared enough to try and face it. I’d used my physical pain to justify my need for more and more of anything that dulled the internal pain.

It took several long minutes to walk down the steps and climb onto the gently swaying boat. The time gave me the reprieve I so badly needed.

Once on the boat, I led Silver to the benches that lined each side. It wouldn’t be as comfortable as my lounge chair but the pillows covering the benches would do. Besides, the situation couldn’t be much more uncomfortable than it already was, anyway. I was ashamed to admit that I was glad I’d taken so many pills and swallows of whiskey because I knew if all my senses had been fully intact, I wouldn’t have reached for Silver when he’d gotten up to leave. I wouldn’t have opened my mouth other than to deny it when he had confronted me.

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