The Loyal Groom (Groom 1)

Once I’m covered and have my things, I slowly open the door to see Darian. His face is filled with concern and kindness, and even though there’s a part of me that’s still embarrassed, the gratitude I have for him pushes it out of the way.

“Thank you,” I begin to say and then stumble over the words. “I wasn’t prepared, and god, this is all really sweet of you.” I hold up the candy bar, letting out a small laugh before I look away and shrug.

“It’s okay. I’ve got older sisters.” When he says this, I look up into his gray eyes, which are so kind and gentle. “Besides, I don’t mind doing my job.”

“Your job?” I ask in confusion.

“Taking care of you.” He says it like it’s obvious.

As crazy as it sounds, it feels right.

Chapter 2

Darian

“It’s cold, where’s your jacket?” my oldest foster sister Lindsey asks, ready to scold me for forgetting it. She’s a senior this year but has always acted like my mother.

“Left it at school.” I curl up against the door of the car and hope she doesn’t catch the lie. When I look down at my khakis I inwardly groan because I hate this uniform. I guess it’s better than wearing my own clothes and the guys at school making jokes because I don’t have the right labels.

“You know you’re not getting a new one if you lost it.” Amber, my other foster sister, who is two years older than me, crosses her arms and purses her lips in challenge. Her twin sister Allison is sitting in the front seat and turns around to do the same thing.

“Gina already said we’re skint until the third, so you better find it,” Allison chimes in, not wanting to be left out of the dog pile.

Gina is our foster mom, and she does the bare minimum to keep the state happy. Which basically means she keeps us alive and out of trouble. Although, if it were just my three older sisters in charge, the same would happen. Their favorite pastime is telling me what to do, but I’m used to it and don’t really fight them on it.

“You’ll bring it home today, right?” Lindsey asks from the driver's seat, her eyes on me in the rearview mirror. I nod, and she lets the subject drop. “I’m dropping off Darian first.”

Amber and Allison begin to complain, but Lindsey talks over them. No matter what, we all fall in line when Lindsey speaks. She might not be the mom, but she’s in charge. I used to think it’s because she doesn’t abuse her power, but the older I got, the more I found out about her past and the shitty foster homes she’d been in before Gina. Lindsey knew what it was like out there in other situations, and although Gina is only in it for a check, it’s better than the alternative.

“Your fancy-ass school doesn’t send a Rolls around to pick you up?” Amber sneers.

“Only for field trips,” I answer back, taking the bait.

“Enough,” Lindsey says, and Amber sticks her tongue out at me.

“Just because you're so smart doesn’t mean you’re better than us.” Allison’s comment makes the car go quiet, and my eyes meet Lindsey’s again in the rearview.

Lindsey filled out my application for Kingswood Prep without me knowing. She saw my grades in elementary school and asked one of my old teachers to give me an IQ test. She didn’t tell me or Gina about it until I got in because she needed a car. The school didn’t offer transportation or have buses, and Gina wasn’t about to get out of bed before noon to take me anywhere. Lindsey agreed to take me and the twins to school and do all the errands Gina didn’t want to if she could have enough cash to buy an old car. I don’t know how she got Gina to agree, but Lindsey went to the junkyard that weekend and came home with the rusted beater we call the green beast. It’s a real piece of shit, but with it comes freedom, and I realized right away that’s what I wanted.

My thoughts drift to Rosy and her wearing my coat to the office yesterday. She never came back after that, because I didn’t see her the rest of the day. I warned Mindy within an inch of her life if she breathed a word of it, I would make her sorry.

As far as I know it hasn't gotten out, because that’s the kind of gossip that would spread like wildfire. I look to the front seat to where Lindsey is passing a tampon to Amber, and maybe I’m just desensitized, but who gives a shit?

Rosy was so grateful, but I meant what I said about taking care of her. I don’t know how because I have nothing, but I plan on keeping my word. There’s something special about her, something that hasn’t seen the dark side of the world or been around enough assholes to darken her shine. She’s pure and sweet, and I don’t want anyone taking that away.