Page 15 of Fury

Another sob.

My heart clenches for her.

“I wish there was something I could do to make that go away, but I can’t. I can be your friend, though. I might not give you the best hugs, or make your favorite foods, and I’m certainly not your mom, but I will try really hard. Do you think you might let me?”

Silence.

But not a sob.

“You know when I was young, my dad died,” I tell her. “I was only eight. I remember how sad I was. It just felt like all the sadness wanted to come out, and no matter what I did, it wouldn’t stay in. That’s because sometimes, sadness needs a place to go, too. It doesn’t want to stay inside, so letting it out is important. You’re allowed to be sad, honey.”

A shuffle in the leaves, and then Hope appears around the other side of the tree, standing before me. I can’t see her face, and I’m not about to shine a flashlight in it, but I know it’ll be streaked with tears, red and puffy. That’s okay. Pushing to my feet, I reach out a hand, but she doesn’t take it. Instead, she throws herself at me. Catching her, the flashlight tumbles to the ground, but I don’t reach for it.

Instead, I pick the little girl up into my arms and she wraps herself around me, her grip tight on my neck as she hangs on, seemingly afraid if she lets go, I might just disappear. My heart explodes as I hold onto her, reaching down for the light and then making my way out of the woods. As I approach the house, everyone is standing on the patio, watching.

When they see me, I can see the look of relief in their gazes.

Especially Fury’s.

He strides down the steps, but when he reaches me, I shake my head.

Right now, she needs understanding.

“Where is her room?” I ask him, softly.

His eyes flash, almost like he’s torn between two things, but, eventually, he turns and walks back up the steps. As I pass the others, Bonnie reaches out and gives me a grateful squeeze on the arm. I offer her a smile before following Fury into the house and down the hall. There is a room at the back, all painted in pink and made up for a little girl. They’ve done their best to make her feel at home, I can’t fault them for their effort.

Placing Hope down on her bed, it takes her a moment to release me.

When she does, I get a good look at her. Her little face is streaked with mud and tears, and her skin is blotchy.

It kills me.

“How about you have a shower,” I tell her, “and while you do, I’ll make you something to eat. Whatever you want. Then, I can read you a story before bed.”

Nodding, she tells me in a tiny, cracked voice, “I like grilled cheese.”

“Then I’m going to make you the best grilled cheese you’ve ever had.”

She glances at Fury, who is staring down at her, his face expressionless. Looking back at me, she reaches for a book on her bedside table and passes it to me. It’s one we’ve been reading in class. I knew she loved it from the moment she turned the page, because it’s about a little girl in the foster system who finds a new family and learns that love can come from so many different places.

I smile down at her. “Great choice, this one is my favorite, too.”

She takes her things and disappears into the shower. Turning, I face Fury, and his eyes follow her as she leaves the room, his brows slightly furrowed. Then, he turns and looks back to me. “Thanks.”

His voice is gruff, but it’s more than I had expected from him, so I’ll take it.

Shrugging, I tell him, “I get kids, it was no problem. She’s a great girl, but she’s going to struggle without her mom for a while. It’s not easy to understand when you’re so little.”

“We were raised the same,” Fury tells me, his voice tight. “Never thought she would go down that road. All it took was the wrong man ...”

My chest tightens, because if you ask me, I would tell you I never expected to go down this road either, and yet here I am. I was raised right, I knew my boundaries, I would have sworn I’d never let a man abuse me, but here I am, living in this nightmare, knowing that it’s wrong but being so afraid to leave. The fear is more than I could have ever expected—the way it sinks into your soul is crushing.

You don’t just run.

It’s not that easy.

People don’t understand, and that’s what makes it so much worse.

---