Page 31 of Moments of Malevolence

They used to hit the kids when they were drunk. And at first, I received those blows, and it was frustrating. Until I learned that if I offered them things, little things to help them while they were intoxicated, they didn’t look at me as if I were a punching bag.

It would be as simple as not looking them in the eyes and asking if they want a drink—alcohol, of course. Just helping them as much as possible to view me as a bonus not a burden.

For another family I lived with, it was all in the way you spoke to them. A soft demeanor and a gentle smile would get you food, particularly when it was held back as punishment.

Not all of it was bad.

I was placed with an elderly couple once for about six months. It was the best home I lived in. They cooked every night, and they taught me how to make the best chocolate cake. It’s my best party trick, and I made it at many other foster homes when I needed to get on their good sides.

It’s a good thing too since it’s the only thing I know how to cook.

And it’s saved me many times.

Steeling myself, I turn with the tray and make my way to his table. Taking the few steps I need to, I breathe deeply, trying to gain some equilibrium before I glance at him.

“What can I get you?” I ask, noticing all he has is water. “Whiskey, vodka, gin…” I list off a few choices, but he doesn’t respond. He quietly assesses me with those eyes that haunt my dreams. “If you aren’t drinking, you need to leave,” I tell him.

“I paid for this…” He waves a hand around, stopping when it reaches me.

“It’s a bar! You get that, right?”

“I do.”

“And you don’t drink,” I state.

“No, though somewhere deep inside, it makes me happy you remember that fact.”

I scoff. “Don’t let it go to your head. I remember because I spent all your money.”

“Do you want to be tipped tonight?” he asks.

“What type of question is that? Of course, I do,” I sass, sliding the tray under my arm as I eye him.

“The tip you get will depend on the service, of course.”

“I’m not here to play your gamesagain.” I turn to leave.

“Alaska…” I stop at the sound of my name. Myrealname. “Turn back around and give me those vexing eyes.”

Sliding my tongue over my teeth, I turn back to him.

He’s leaning forward on the table with a wicked grin on his lips. “Order a bottle of whatever, send it to a table of your choosing, and charge it to me.”

I nod and head to the bar, not stopping to give him an opportunity to speak to me again. When I gain the bartender’s attention, I order the most expensive bottle I can find and charge it to his card on file.

Louise skips over and places her tray next to mine. “What did you say to Sarah? She hasn’t stopped complaining to Jeff about you.” I turn to face her, taking in her bright pink shirt and bouncy hair.

“Sarah can eat my ass,” I reply.

She laughs and shakes her head then changes the subject. “Oh…what are your plans for Christmas? My family wants to meet you; I’ve told them all about you. Are you free, or do you have plans with your family?”

Christmas…

That’s the day I get drunk and watchHome Aloneand pass out on my couch.

It’s actually an amazing day and I love it by myself.

“I—”

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