Chapter 14

brADY

EIGHT YEARS AGO

I looked at my watch. I had fifteen minutes before it was officially the afternoon.

Fifteen minutes until I needed to tutor Grace in math. But when I’d agreed to tutor her, I hadn’t specified a time.

So maybe I had an hour. Maybe even three. What did “afternoon” mean, anyway? When did afternoon end and evening begin?

Or I could suck it up, tutor her for a half hour, and go back to my room. Nobody had said I needed to tutor her for very long.

I could do this. I could tutor her. It wasn’t a big deal. I’d done it before, right?

But that had been before. Before I’d started seeing Grace as a girl instead of as a sister.

When I’d first been welcomed into the Dallases’ home, Grace had been an annoying little sister who liked to follow me and Ben around.

That type of thing I was used to. I’d been in enough foster homes with other kids, a lot of them younger than me. In my last home, their daughter had been a toddler. My foster parents would often have me babysit—for free, of course.

But Grace had started looking more like a woman lately. The first time I’d noticed, it’d taken every bit of ingenuity to get upstairs without anyone noticing my boner. It’d been humiliating.

Grace had come downstairs wearing tiny soccer shorts and a tank top. She also hadn’t been wearing a bra. And in the past few months, she’d been developing quickly.

She sat down next to me in the living room, and my gaze zeroed in on her nipples poking through her shirt.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She gave me a confused smile.

I could feel Ben glaring at me. I grabbed a nearby pillow to cover my crotch.

“I’m not looking at you,” I replied, defensive.

“Yeah, you were,” said Grace.

“Why would I look at you? You’re just a baby. I don’t care about babies.”

Grace looked hurt. She got up and went to a chair opposite, her expression like I’d kicked her.

“You’re a jerk, Brady,” she said as she wiped her nose.

My boner had gotten worse when she’d gotten up. She was so ... bouncy. How had I never noticed that before?

I waited a few more minutes and dashed upstairs to my room, locking the door behind me.

Then there was another instance when we’d all gone to the local swimming pool. Grace had worn a two-piece for the first time, at least that I’d been aware of.

“Dad know you’re wearing that?” Ben had asked his sister.

Grace raised her chin. “No, and who’s going to tell him? You?”

“Uh, I might.”

“Then I’ll tell him I saw you making out with Carrie last Sunday. And you had your door closed when you know you’re supposed to keep it cracked.”

Ben glowered. “You little shit.”

Grace just stuck out her tongue and jumped into the pool.

Ben turned to me. “You’re so lucky you don’t have a sister. They’re the worst.”

I barely heard him. I was focused on Grace standing near the shallow end, water sluicing down her body, her bikini barely covering her—

And then, last weekend, Grace’s parents had been out of the house to attend one of Ben’s hockey games. It meant that Grace and I were alone. Usually, that wouldn’t have been a big deal, at least before I’d started noticing her. I usually did my thing, and she did hers.

A lot of the time I was playing hockey anyway. Hockey was also a good way to avoid being around Grace. I didn’t need to keep feeling these weird feelings anytime she came around.

But today? Today, it’d been too hot to go outside, so I’d been stuck inside without much to do, so I’d been going between watching TV and messing around online to pass the time.

It was near dinnertime when I called up the stairs to Grace. “Do you want me to order pizza?” I yelled.

After a few seconds, Grace yelled back, “Okay!”

Mr. and Mrs. Dallas often left us some cash to get food when they were gone. The first time they’d done it, I’d been shocked that they’d trust their kids with money like that.

None of my previous foster parents would’ve let me get within ten feet of their money. More than one kept their wallets, purses, and other valuables in safes or behind locked doors.

I hadn’t blamed them. Too many kids like me were prone to steal. Hell, I’d stolen shit when I’d had no other choice. When you’re hungry, you’ll do whatever it takes to fill your empty belly.

“This is for food,” Mr. Dallas had said as he placed a crisp twenty on the kitchen table. “And I know how much a pizza costs, too.”

Grace had just rolled her eyes at her dad. I’d been too astonished to say anything at all.

But I’d gotten used to this setup now. It wasn’t strange for me to call the pizza place, or to make sure I was around to answer the door when it arrived. I paid the pizza guy, a kid I recognized from my high school, and then called up to Grace a second time.

I was getting plates and cups when Grace walked into the kitchen. I nearly dropped what I was holding when I saw her.

At fourteen, Grace had started looking less like a kid and more like a young woman. Even though I’d hated noticing such a thing about her, I’d noticed.

But Grace usually wore pretty boring clothes. She wasn’t the type of girl to doll herself up.

Until tonight. Wearing shorts that should be criminal along with a tube top, she looked like my worst nightmare.

Because it reminded me that she was trouble incarnate.

I stared at her, and I watched as a blush grew on her cheeks. She wouldn’t meet my gaze as she took the plates from my hands.

“I’m starving,” she said, as casual as you please.

When she turned around, I couldn’t help but notice her butt was almost hanging out of her shorts. There was no way in hell her parents would be okay with this outfit.

I decided to act like I hadn’t noticed her new skimpy clothes. I grabbed a soda and went to the living room.

Grace followed me, damn her.

“I’m gonna watch The Terminator ,” I said, only because I knew she hated action movies.

“Okay.” Then she sat down next to me on the couch. So close that our legs were almost brushing.

“Do you want to watch The Terminator ?” I asked, annoyed now.

Grace shrugged. “I’ve never seen it. So why not?”

I groaned inwardly. I turned on the movie, ignoring Grace, but she didn’t seem deterred.

In fact, I nearly jumped out of my skin when her hand touched my leg.

My body reacted, even though I hated myself for it. I could smell her body wash on her skin and feel her warmth. I wondered what she would do if I kissed her.

I got up and sat on the large recliner in the corner. Grace’s expression fell.

“It’s too hot,” I said weakly.

It took another few minutes before Grace got up and went back to her room with tears in her eyes.

Since that whole thing had happened, I’d been avoiding Grace. When she’d reminded me earlier this morning about tutoring her, I’d tried to get out of it. But her mom had overheard and had thanked me for helping Grace.

I stared at my watch. Maybe Grace would forget about the tutoring. Or maybe she’d catch the hint that I wanted nothing to do with her.

Yeah, fucking right. You can’t stop thinking about her.

I needed to do something drastic to get Grace away from me. Ignoring her wasn’t working, clearly.

An hour later, I opened the front door and let Samantha inside. Samantha was in my grade, and one of the prettiest girls in our high school. She also loved to wear tight, revealing clothing, and today she was showing off her cleavage.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” Samantha said, trying to seem coy.

I heard footsteps behind me. I knew it was Grace.

I took Samantha by the arm and led her upstairs, passing by Grace without a word. But I could feel Grace’s gaze on me like a laser beam. I could feel how pissed she was at me.

Right before we reached the top of the stairs, Grace called out, “What about tutoring me?”

Samantha giggled. She looked over the railing down at Grace. “Seriously? It’s Saturday.”

I also looked over the railing. “Yeah, it’s Saturday,” I drawled. “Go play with your dolls or something.”

That made Samantha laugh again. Grace’s expression turned indignant as Samantha and I kept walking upstairs.

Good, get pissed at me, I thought . I’m not good enough for you. Just leave me alone and find somebody better.

I knew I was playing a dangerous game here. I also knew that Mr. and Mrs. Dallas would be pissed at me for bringing a girl over without their permission.

Even then, I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting Grace to stop whatever this was.

It was better for her in the long run anyway.

It was a close call getting Samantha out of the house before Mr. and Mrs. Dallas returned. When I heard their SUV pull up in the driveway, Samantha and I were making out in my bed.

I stilled, listening. Samantha tried kissing me again, but I made her stop. She pouted.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Shit. You need to leave.”

I jumped out of bed and went to the window. Although we were on the second floor, there was a trellis that I’d used before to get in and out of the house undetected.

“What? You’re kicking me out?” Samantha sounded outraged.

“I’m not supposed to have girls over.”

“You said it was okay!”

I grimaced. “I lied. Now get going unless you want to get us both into trouble.”

Samantha had gotten suspended from school more than once this year, so I knew she didn’t want to get in trouble again. She made a face and started to descend from the window.

“Go around the back when I tell you,” I hissed at her.

I couldn’t see her expression, but I would have bet anything she was rolling her eyes at me.

I heard the front door open and close. I signaled to Samantha to run. To my relief, she didn’t protest.

I waited, listening. Then I let out a sigh of relief when it seemed like I’d gotten out of this scot-free.

Well, except for Grace. She knew about Samantha, and she knew it wasn’t allowed. I scowled. Would she rat me out?

I didn’t have time to tell her to keep her mouth shut before Mr. and Mrs. Dallas were coming upstairs.

I waited in anticipation for Grace to say something, but before I knew it, her parents were shutting their bedroom door to go to sleep.

I lay in bed and tried to sleep. Guilt gnawed at me. Samantha and I hadn’t really done anything, but even then, I hated the thought of disappointing Mr. and Mrs. Dallas.

They were the first family who seemed like they gave a shit about me. Which meant that I gave a shit about them.

Who says they’ll keep caring about you once you turn eighteen?

It was a sobering reminder of how often foster kids were kicked out and forgotten once they reached eighteen. I needed to remember that the Dallases weren’t my family, not really.

I must’ve fallen asleep because the next moment I heard footsteps. I sat upright in bed, my heart pounding, only to see Grace standing over me.

“Jesus Christ,” I growled, “you scared me.”

The full moon through my window was enough illumination to see Grace grin. “Serves you right,” she shot back.

I waited for her to explain why she was in my room. It was then I realized I was wearing only my boxers and nothing else. I grabbed a pillow and covered my crotch, embarrassed.

“What are you doing in here?” I hissed.

To my surprise—and dismay—Grace sat down on my bed. “Who was the girl?”

I groaned. “Grace, what the hell—”

“Tell me, or I’m going to go wake up my parents and tell them what you did.”

“Tattletale.”

Grace crossed her arms, waiting. “Is she your girlfriend?”

Samantha? Hell no. “She’s just a friend.” I sounded defensive now.

“Did you have sex with her?”

I nearly choked on my own saliva. I coughed into my fist, hoping I wasn’t so loud as to wake anybody else up.

I was shaking my head and saying, “What is wrong with you?”

“Hey, I just wanted to know the details.” Grace smoothed a hand over my comforter. “Well, did you?”

“No. Jesus.”

She seemed mollified by my answer, at least. But she didn’t seem in a rush to leave either.

She was picking at a string on my comforter when she said, “You said before that I could come to you if I had a problem. Right?”

I was wary as I replied, “Sure.”

She took a deep breath like she was preparing herself. “What’s sex like?” she finally blurted.

I gaped at her. And then my body reacted because my brain was instantly filled with images of kissing Grace, touching Grace, taking Grace’s clothes off—

“I’m not answering that question,” I growled.

She looked surprised. “Why not? I want to know if it’s as good as everyone says it is. At least what boys say. Girls don’t seem like they like it as much. Why is that?”

I’d had sex before, but not as much as Grace had imagined. Not a lot of girls wanted to sleep with a foster kid like me, especially in this town full of rich kids.

Grace was fourteen, though. Too young to think about having sex.

You were having sex at fourteen, I reminded myself.

“I’m not talking to you about sex,” I said.

“I can’t go to anyone else in my family. My parents would freak out, and Ben is my brother—”

“I’m your brother.”

That made Grace look away. “Not really,” she mumbled.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Then, as if from a dream, Grace touched my leg like she had on the couch.

I realized she was doing this to get my attention. Was she just fucking with me? Or did she really like me?

“You need to leave,” I said, my tone harsh. “And don’t come at me with that you’re going to tell on me . Do it if you want. I’ve gotten in trouble before, and I can deal if it happens again.”

Grace was silent. “Why don’t you like me anymore?” Her voice was small now.

I hated myself at that moment. But even at sixteen, I knew that Grace wasn’t the girl for me.

“Nothing will ever happen between us,” I said. “So get over it already.”

Her shoulders sagged. I pulled at the thread she’d been playing with until it snapped.

“You’re a jerk.” Then she left—finally.

I locked my door a moment later. But I couldn’t get back into bed. Not when it reminded me that Grace had been sitting next to me only minutes before.

Grace was young for her age. She’d get over me eventually. She only had a crush on me because I was close by.

She probably thought I was some charity case she needed to make over. And who the fuck needed that? I didn’t need Grace. I didn’t need the Dallases, either.

I’d taken care of myself since I was a kid. I needed to remind myself that they could kick me out and hand me over to another family whenever they wanted. There was no guarantee I’d still be here when I turned eighteen.

The only person you can rely on is yourself.