Page 71 of Loaded

BEA

When I was young, I adored my grandfather. He always had a scratchy face, and he smiled a lot. I remember people taking photos of us, and I don’t remember him yelling. I’ve never been sure whether he just didn’t yell as much back then, or whether I blocked it out.

Either way, as I got older, he definitely yelled.

A lot.

And whenever he showed up, my mom got angry. She also always got stuck in rehab, which meant that I went home with Grandpa. No one could see me while I was staying with him unless I was dressed and pressed like a doll, and I could never do anything but smile and nod. He was very clear on that. I’ve since wondered whether the people we met thought I was a halfwit.

I’ll never know what Dave and Seren said to convince him that they could be adequate foster parents, but he kept them on a very short leash. The promise he extracted from me as my part of that deal was that under no circumstance would I ever call Dave and Seren Mom or Dad—no one could know that Iwas their foster child. The world could know that I was staying with them for a short time, and that was all.

Anything else would result in my removal from their care.

I could probably call them whatever I want now, but some habits die hard. I’m afraid of the dark. I’m still irrationally worried that there might be monsters under my bed, and I’m still afraid of my grandfather. I know too much about what he’s capable of, and I’m under no delusions that he’ll go easy on me because we’re related.

Grandfather will always do whatever is best for him. Period.

“I will never run for office.” I block him from coming inside. “I don’t think we have anything else to discuss.”

He frowns. “I’m coming inside.”

I shake my head. “My roommate’s sleeping.”

“You mean the Fansee’s troubled foster kid?” He scowls. “That Jake boy should not be your roommate.”

This isn’t a new argument. He’s always hated Jake. It’s not personal. He hates anyone being near me who might attract attention that could possibly circle back to him. He dislikes anything he can’t control.

“I’ll provide you with an apartment—a nice one, in The City.”

I hate when New Yorkers call New York CityTheCity. It’ssoarrogant, like comparatively, no other cities matter. “I’ll pass, but thanks.”

His lip curls. “You know what your problem is?”

“Wait, I only have one?”

Now he’s really annoyed. “Right now, your smart mouth is not appreciated, miss.”

“I’ll make note of it.”

“You were taught better than this.”

“Was I?” I cross my arms. “You taught me never to let anyone push me around.”

“That doesn’t apply to me.” He narrows his eyes.

I shrug. “That part of the lesson didn’t take. What else did you want to say?”

“You will not see that boy again.” His eyes harden, which is impressive since they were already downright flinty. “Am I clear?”

“See him, as in clap my eyes on him? Or see him as in go on a date and kiss?”

The wrinkles around his lips deepen. “What did I say about the smart mouth?”

Egging my grandfather on is always a bad idea, but if I don’t push back at all, he gets even worse. It’s a delicate balance, pushing back just hard enough to get him to leave me alone. “I apologize,” I whisper. “I just didn’t get much sleep with all the drama over the video, and I don’t want to wake up Jake. He has a shoot later.”

He sighs. “Well, if you’re going to bed, I’ll assume you heard what I said, and you plan to listen.” He waits for me to disagree. After a moment, when I don’t argue, he nods and huffs before leaving.

I never promised him a thing, but in his mind, I sure did.

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