Finding Faye (K&S Securities 1)

Prologue

10 years ago

Travis Keller

I turn 18 today.

Before, my birthday would have been a reason to have a party, but now it’s just another day. I'm already enlisted in the US Marine Corps and heading to basic training in the morning, so even if anyone wanted to throw me a party I wouldn’t be able to celebrate.

As things stand, I’m just ready to get out of here.

This past year has been a nightmare. If my mom had known what a total piece of shit my dad's brother, Brad is, she never would have named him as my guardian. Honestly, anyone would have been better. He treats me like shit, but I'm bigger than him now and I’ve been working out with my recruiter four days a week for the past nine months, so I'm stronger and faster than him, too.

I really feel bad for Faye, who is only ten. She’s my uncle’s girlfriend’s little girl. and Brad is a drunk.

A mean drunk, and he hates kids.

Poor Faye bears the brunt of his shitty behavior. Earlier today he pushed her down because she was in his way. I didn't see it, but I know he did. She came to hide out in my room, tears streaking her tiny face, and still hasn’t left.

Claire never even came to check on her.

I can’t help but think about my own mom. She would have killed to protect me, and I just don’t understand how Claire can let Brad abuse her daughter like he does. She's as shitty a person as Brad is, but I don’t think she has always been like that.

I called CPS once, thinking they would be able to do something to help Faye, but they couldn't find any reason to take her away. Brad is a lawyer...a rich, dirty lawyer. I suspect that he’s mixed up in some bad stuff, but I haven’t been able to find any proof, not that Brad lets anyone into his office.

Claire is his legal secretary…or something. I have been able to get into her laptop, but everything she’s been handling for Brad seems legitimate.

Anyway, Brad knew it was me who made the call. He threatened to get me in trouble if I tried something like that again—the kind of trouble that would make the Marines not want me. I have no illusions about his ability to do just that, so my hands are tied, and I’m certain that Faye is going to be the one to pay the price. I wish I could find a way to take her with me, but there isn’t a way. Maybe when I’m a little older there will be something I can do.

That’s the only long term plan I have. To make something of myself and somehow get Faye and take care of her.

She doesn’t have anyone else, and as weird as it sounds, she’s my best friend. She tells me all her secrets and I tell her all my plans. Neither one of us has friends here. Brad and Claire have made that impossible. Instead, Faye and I…we have each other.

Sighing, I look at my clock, 2300 hours. My recruiter will be here to pick me up in 7 hours. I need to sleep, but my worries won't let me. There are so many things that could happen to hurt her. Worse things than Brad slapping her, and Claire’s total indifference. At least right now, Faye is sleeping peacefully. Tilting my chin down, I kiss the top of her head where the two lopsided French braids I twisted into her red hair are pressed into my armpit.

She is so small, even for a ten-year-old, and I'm scared something bad is going to happen to her while I'm gone. She has been the only ray of sunshine in my life since my mom died. When I came here I was still grieving and in a fog of sadness. Faye was the one who pulled me out of my misery and reminded me of all the plans I had before I lost my mom. Such a sweet kid, I think, my eyes finally getting heavy...then nothing but warm darkness.

0530 hours. My phone alarm screams, and I shut it off as quickly as my sleep-heavy, fumbling hands allow, not wanting to wake up Faye. I’m a little slow, and it does anyway. She wakes up much too quickly for a kid, her golden-colored eyes filling with tears as she watches me gather up my duffel bag. She is wrapped up in my comforter, her sad gaze following my every move.

“I wish you didn't have to go, Twavis,” she whispers with a little lisp, in a voice much too grave for a ten-year-old. She’s been living with her mom and Brad for two years, and I suppose that is enough to mature anyone early. I sit back down beside her and take her little hand in mine, squeezing it.

“I know, Sweetpea, but I have to go.”

“I know. You awe going to be a Ma-ween.”

I absolutely love how she says her Rs like Ws. It makes Brad irate, so usually I correct her pronunciation so she doesn’t get in trouble, but not this morning.

“Yes, I am. But I will come check on you if I can, and if you write me letters I will write you back. And someday, when you are bigger, if things are still bad here you can come stay with me.”

“Pwomise?” she asks, and I nod my head. “Maybe by then you will have kids, and I can watch them like you watch out for me.”

I nod my head, agreeing. I’d like to have a real family again someday, and having Faye be part of it would be perfect. I don’t have any siblings, so it would be like having a little sister. I hear the rumble of a pickup engine in the driveway and know it's time for me to go.

“Yes, Sweetpea. That’s the plan. I promise. Walk me outside?”

She nods, her messy braids swinging, and slides to the floor before putting her little hand in mine. We tiptoe down the hallway to the front door and outside into the already muggy morning air. My recruiter knows all about the fucked-up situation in this house, so he's not surprised that a little kid is the only family I have to see me off today.

Dropping to my knees, I wrap her in my arms and kiss her wet cheek.

“Stay out of their way, Faye,” I tell her. “Do good in school, and I will come see you as soon as I can.”

My eyes are stinging and my throat feels too tight. I haven’t felt this bad since I watched them lower mom’s casket

into the ground.

“Okay, Twavis. I will miss you so much. You awe my best fwend.” Her tears flow freely now, and the tip of her little nose is bright pink, but she doesn't make a sound.

“I will be back for you someday, Sweetpea . I don't know when, but I promise I will.”

I know I shouldn’t make promises like that. I know that I’m most likely going to be sent to Afghanistan or some other hellish place once I finish my training, and I know that is something I may not ever return from.

I shouldn’t make promises I may not be able to keep.

Her arms wrap around my neck and she sobs. In the year I have been here, I have never heard her make a sound when she cries. That, I know, is not normal kid behavior.

“I love you, Twavis,” she whimpers, her tears soaking my skin as I rock her in my embrace. I stand up with her clutching my neck when my uncle walks out the door and surveys the scene.

“Get back to bed, Faye,” he snarls, grabbing her arm and roughly pulling her away from me. “Thanks for waking me up,” he snaps as he turns and slams the door behind them.

I hear the loud crack of a slap and Faye’s brief wail. I stumble down the steps, my own tears coursing down my cheeks, and tell myself she wasn’t really calling my name. One foot in front of the other, I carry my duffle bag to the pickup and get in before resting my forehead on the cool glass of the window.