Capacity, p.15
Capacity, page 15
My defenses were useless against him.
“You owe me dinner tonight. Your place.” I poked his chest and he kissed the back of my hand.
“Deal.”
…
Zach was sitting in the very back of McDonald’s with his hood pulled all the way down and the white cord from his earbuds snaking down to the phone in his hand. I knew it was him by posture and demeanor alone. He was always so withdrawn and quiet. He sat like he was trying to curl himself into a ball, shrinking as much as possible.
I walked over and placed my hand on his broad shoulder gently. His head jerked up and his eyes went wide and startled. I immediately offered him a smile so he’d calm back down.
“Hey, it’s just me,” I said sitting down.
“Oh…Ms. Foster. Wow, you look different without your scrubs on and…your hair is really long.”
“Thanks,” I laughed a little and rubbed the back of his hand. “Hey, why the hoodie inside?” I quizzed. It shadowed his face and I could barely see him.
He cleared his throat and fidgeted nervously in his seat before pulling it off. Once his face was in the light, I saw scratches on his otherwise undisturbed brown skin and deep purple bruises on his neck. It looked like someone tried to choke the life out of him.
My stomach sank to my shoes.
“Zachary, what the hell happened?” I gasped quietly.
“I got moved into a foster home last week. Me and the guy don’t get along.” He shrugged like it was nothing but I saw the torment in his eyes. I knew what torment looked like. I knew what it felt like.
“Oh, sweetheart,” I sighed.
“I hate it there but the caseworker doesn’t come for another week. All this shit…I mean stuff will be healed by then. He keeps telling me not to reach out to the caseworker or else he’ll do something worse than hit me.” His expression was cold stone. His eyes were distant and glazed over like he was so used to the abuse it didn’t faze him.
My heart broke for him and I suddenly remembered why I liked operating without a functioning heart. I didn’t have to feel everything so deeply. How could I not feel for Zach though? Maybe my heart was never out of commission but just dormant.
“I just wanted to talk to someone because I don’t have any friends at school and I’m an only child so…” He gave a hopeless shrug. I didn’t think my heart could fracture any more but the sadness in his eyes found a home inside the breaks beneath my ribs.
“I’m glad you reached out, Zach. I’m here. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it. I’m in your corner.”
“There’s nothing to be done,” he said, toying with the earbud cord. “If I complain to the caseworker, I’ll get pulled but not for at least twenty-four hours. That means I have to go back to that house and what if he keeps his promise and does something worse?” I saw a hint of fear in his chocolate eyes.
“No. Nothing is going to happen to you. Let me document your bruises and scratches. I’ll contact your caseworker. I’ll take all the heat.” I crossed my legs under the table and leaned in closer to block out everyone else in the fast-food joint. “I’ll request for you to be removed as an emergency. Your face doesn’t lie. You have visible scratches and bruises. Unless your caseworker wants to get fired or worse, she’ll comply.” Fire churned in my gut thinking about how often foster kids like Zach got the shit end of the stick. I refused to let that happen when I was in a position to help.
“You think it would work?” He quizzed. Hope pushed aside some of the fear and apathy.
“I’m promising you it will.”
“I still have to go back to the group home,” he muttered like it was a trap one way or another.
“How old are you, Zach? Seventeen?”
He nodded quietly. The longer I stared at him the more different scratches and scrapes materialized on his skin. I hated his foster dad. I wanted him behind bars for putting his hands on a kid. On Zachary.
Zach was big for his age. Taller than most grown men, he had to be well over six-foot-three inches. He was lean and muscular and could have easily played basketball or any other sport. He looked like in another life where he got dealt a better hand, he would have been at home amongst the jocks. He’d fit right in with his squared jaw and handsome face.
He didn’t look like the kind of kid who would stand for getting his ass beat but I knew firsthand when you were used to abuse, it didn’t matter how you appeared to everyone else. Abuse was a mental leech. It was cruel and unforgiving. It didn’t care who you were or what you looked like.
“When is your birthday?” I asked him, pulling out my phone.
“May tenth. I’ll turn eighteen, graduate and have nowhere to go. I honestly feel lost, Ms. Foster.”
One side of my mouth lifted in an attempt to smile. “I’m here for you, Zach. Let’s take some pictures of you and call your caseworker for an immediate extraction.” He looked relieved but there was still something bothering him. “What’s wrong?” I asked, a frown knitting my brows together.
“I appreciate what you’re doing for me, Ms. Foster but I honestly hate the thought of going back to that group home right now. I know that probably sounds ungrateful but things aren’t better there. I go days without eating enough because I’m a vegetarian and all they have are meat dishes. I don’t talk to anyone in there and I feel invisible.” His eyes dropped to the tabletop. Once he mentioned not getting enough to eat, I heard the faint, muffled grown of his stomach.
“Let’s get out of here and go have lunch. We’ll talk more when we get there.” I didn’t take no for an answer. I waited for him to follow me then I took us to a nice quiet restaurant that catered to vegan and vegetarian diets.
“I didn’t know this place existed.” Zach marveled at the small downtown restaurant.
“It’s pretty cool. Order whatever you want.” I smiled at him across the table and for the first time since I met Zachary, he smiled back.
Once we got our orders back and he’d started putting food in his belly, I tried to hammer down some details. “Okay, so you have to stay at the group home for six more months until you age out, right?” He nodded while shoveling cheesy bean and rice taquitos into his mouth. Watching him eat and knowing that he was finally getting some decent food meant a lot to me.
“Are you getting abused at the group home?” I quizzed.
“No.” He tensed a little at the question.
“Zach, I’m not trying to minimize the fact that you’re lonely and invisible there. Those are very valid points. I just want to make sure I won’t be sending you into an abusive situation.”
“I don’t get abused there,” he answered in a hushed tone. “I just hate it.”
“If I talked to the caseworker about maybe getting you a room to yourself would that help?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged.
“Let me see what I can do, Zach. You have to let me record the bruises and scratches though. He gave me a reluctant nod. I let him finish his food before I snapped pictures, then I let him order whatever he wanted for dessert while I called the group home.
By the end of my call with the director, Mrs. Matthews, I had Zach out of his foster home and back at the Michael Richmond Group Home. I also secured him a private room since a few of their occupants had been sent to other homes. It wasn’t much but I was able to help.
“Thanks, Ms. Foster.” One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Thanks for listening, thanks for the food and thanks for just being…nice. Not too many people in my life have been nice.”
“The world is full of good people though. I know it’s hard to see that right now but once you’re removed from all this bullshit, you’ll see it. You’ll see the bright spots in the world.”
“Right now, I think you’re the only bright spot in the entire world. Nobody else cares. Or they’re blind.” He shrugged his broad, boxy shoulders then bent down to hug me.
“You need a ride? I can drive you wherever you need to go,” I told him.
“It would sure beat the hell out of taking the bus with a bag full of food.” I made sure to get him another order of food for dinner. I told him to keep it in his book bag and eat it when he was alone.
I’d heard horror stories about group homes and the bullying that went on over trivial things. Situations that outsiders deemed as petty, like food, were likely to get you beat up under the right circumstances. I understood and I wanted to make sure Zachary stayed safe.
When we pulled up the group home and I got out along with Zach, he looked confused. “You don’t have to go in,” he said, shrugging his book bag over his shoulders.
“I want to make sure you get your room and I want to see the room. I also want to acquaint myself with the director. I want her to know you’re not alone in here.”
When I looked at Zachary, I saw what could have become of Kaiden if his life wasn’t cut short. He would’ve grown up to be big and strong and kind.
The director of the group home was a short, round woman with a nasal voice that grated on my nerves. She wasn’t happy to see me in person but that’s what I expected. I wasn’t looking for a warm welcome. I wanted her to associate a face with Zach’s name. Someone who would hold everybody accountable for that young man. I wanted her to know he had support.
I wanted him to know too.
“Thanks, for seeing this through,” Zach sat his book bag down on the twin bed in his small but private room. His sheer height swallowed every square-foot of space between those four walls.
“Thank you for opening up to me and trusting me with something so private.” I held his big hand in mine and smiled up at him. I was old enough to be his mother but he dwarfed me completely. It didn’t matter how big he was, he was still a baby in my eyes.
We hugged again and I felt an abrupt onslaught of emotions colliding into me like a tsunami. Tears invaded my space and rolled down my cheeks slicking salty wetness on my face.
“Ms. Foster, what’s wrong?” Zach quizzed, his brown eyes full of concern.
“I’m sorry,” I said shaking my head. “I was thinking about my son. I just…I hope you know I’m here for you, Zach.”
“You’re the nicest person I’ve met since my mom got killed. I know you’re here for me. I know it’s genuine.”
I wiped the tears from my face and frowned up at him. “Your mother was killed?”
“Yeah. She was getting ready to divorce my father and he went on one of those if-I-can’t-have-you-nobody-can rants and he shot her five times in the head then shot himself. I came home from school and found them last year. They were all I had.”
Now, the tears fell not only for Kaiden’s memory but for Zach’s tragedy. “I’m so sorry,” I told him.
“Thanks. I’m kind of used to walking around feeling like my heart got blown out of my chest though.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling. It won’t last forever.” I told him, trying to stop the cascade of emotions.
“What happened to your son? You mentioned him.”
“Oh, yeah, I did.” I was always mentioning Kaiden either out loud or in my mind. Like a beautiful song I couldn’t get out of my head no matter how much it crippled my heart. “He um…he got shot in some crossfire. The bullet went through his bedroom window and hit him in the throat. I wasn’t at home when it happened.” My voice was quiet. If I were any louder, the pain of it all would fall down on my head and split me in two. I wasn’t strong enough to speak about Kaiden’s tragedy above a whisper. Zachary deserved to know he wasn’t alone in the storm of devastating life events.
“I was an ER nurse at the time and they brought him to my ER.”
“Fuck. I mean…I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Zach. You’re almost grown I think the least you can be afforded are curse words.” I appreciated the genuine compassion flowing from him. It soothed my aching soul a little and any relief from the memory of losing my son was welcome.
“I had to stand by and watch him get pronounced dead then go to the morgue and identify his tiny body. It still hurts even though it was a year ago.
I’d like to tell you that time heals everything but it doesn’t. It might dull the serrated edges but blunt force still hurts just the same. The only thing time really does is give you scars. Makes your skin tougher.” I sniffled back the last remnants of tears and looked into his eyes.
“You’re right about that,” Zach nodded. “Can I still come hide out in your office if I need to?” He asked after a few silent beats passed between us.
“Only if you really need to. Just because I like you doesn’t mean I won’t put you out and make you go to class. I want to see you do your best.”
He gave me a half-smile on his handsome face then bent to give me another warm hug. “Thank you again, Ms. Foster.”
“Call me Lumi.”
“Lumi? That’s really pretty. Thank you, Lumi.”
“You’re welcome, Zach. Call me if you need anything. I don’t care what time it is. Just call.”
I left the Michael Richmond Group Home feeling a little lighter but I hated leaving Zach there. It released boulders in the pit of my stomach that weighed me down with each mile I put between us. I couldn’t stop thinking about him alone in that room and not having anyone. I knew how crushing loneliness could be. It almost crushed me to death.
When I got to Knight’s house, I was exhausted from the intense emotions that pumped through me while I was with Zach. I was more than happy to see Knight’s face though. His sapphire pools were my resuscitation.
“Hey, you,” he smiled, pulling me into him and dropping kisses on the top of my head. He was a rush of comfort. “What’s wrong? Is everything okay with Zach?” He tugged on my hair gently so he could see my face.
“I hated having to leave him at that place. After everything he’s been through. It just felt so wrong.” I rolled my shoulders and let a shudder snake through me. Knight rubbed the back of my neck, kneading away the stress. Like heat to butter, it melted at my feet.
“Baby, what can I do to make it better, hmm? I hate seeing you all balled up in a knot like this and Zach is a good kid who’s been dealt a raw deal.”
“He really is. Did you know his father…”
“Yeah, I know.” He nodded casting his gaze down. Shadows fell on his cheeks beneath impossibly long eyelashes. “I hate thinking about it. No kid should have to come home and find something that gruesome.”
“I have to do something,” I sighed.
“You’re dead set on it too. I see it in your eyes.” We sat at the kitchen table and I looked at Knight with his devastating jawline and strong features, so grateful that I had him in my corner. I was going to need his support for what I had planned.
…
CHAPTER 13
Rivers of wavy ink spilled over my white pillow. I propped myself up on one elbow and looked down at Lumi, fast asleep. I didn’t want to disturb her because she’d been stressing out over how to help Zachary for the past week but I couldn’t help myself. My hands wanted to touch her silky skin. I wanted to taste her pussy in my mouth and roll her flavor on my tongue.
I was rock hard just thinking about tasting her.
She shifted a little in her sleep and the sheet covering her naked body slipped, showing me one cocoa brown tipped breast in stark contrast with the plain white she was draped in. Goddammit. My mouth watered looking at how hard her nipple was.
I leaned over licking and sucking on the plump tip of her breast feeling the peak stiffen more under my tongue. Even in her sleep, her back arched toward me, pulling more of the sheet away. My eyes feasted.
My hands slid along her curves while I pushed her legs apart to settle between them. I kissed a trail between her breasts, down to her flat stomach making sure to pay special attention to the small crescent-moon scar under her navel. It was her most beautiful scar. It was what made her a mother.
Lumi’s voice was husky, weighed down from sleep but her moans were still liquid silk filling me up. Her fingers thrust into my hair as I spread her thighs apart. I caught a moonlit glimpse of the scars on her inner wrists and my heart cracked a little. I took her wrist in my hand and kissed there where her pulse sputtered. It was a sign that she was still here. She fought. She won. I never wanted her to feel that low again and I’d do anything in my power to make sure it never happened.
I was glad she didn’t freeze up when I took her wrist in my hand anymore. She still wore long sleeves whenever we were out but when she was with me, she showed her scars because I made sure my woman felt beautiful.
Right then, worshipping her perfect pussy was my way of telling her she was stunning. I parted plump lips and marveled at her stiff clit before pulling it into my mouth and teasing it relentlessly with my tongue. Sucking, slurping, eating her pussy like it was my last meal.
Lumi was unraveled. She was spools of passion-red ribbon undone on my sheets. She moaned and writhed while I pinned her down and devoured her wet heat. I groaned when honey spilled from her, coating my lips and chin. Inching toward my Adam’s apple.
She was earthy and delicate.
Mine.
I kissed her thighs, biting as I went, leaving my marks on her deep brown skin. I couldn’t stay away from her clit though. My mouth found its home again French kissing her creamy slick pussy. Licking into the heat burning at her core. I’d never tasted anyone so summertime sweet. So tight. So perfect.
“I need to feel you,” she whimpered, her thighs bracketing my face.
“Tell me where, baby,” I demanded from between her legs. I leveled a look at her and she met my gaze with unmitigated passion. Her guard was gone and her vulnerability was exposed for me. Only for me.
She was like a ripe mango. Sweet beneath the thick skin nature forced upon her.
“My pussy,” she moaned. I kissed and bit my way back to her lips and pushed inside of her while she licked her wetness from my lips, tasting her own orgasm.
“Like this?” I asked, pushing deeper into her tight pussy.
