reached out once more to dry a tear
against her cheek.
How terrible life could be. She'd wept for her dying father and now she
wept for a child who'd never known love, only neglect and violence. She met his
impassive gaze. "Tell me something good happened. Please. Tell me they took you
out of that foster home and put you in another one."
He shook his head. "Nope. Stayed there until I was old enough to enlist.
But a couple of good things did happen. There was a nice elderly lady lived next
door. Mrs. Colley. Strange old coot, but kind-hearted. She was scared to death of
Old Man Hughes but when he wasn't around, she invited me over and stuffed me
full of food. I grew six inches and put on forty pounds in one year. I made sure
they were forty pounds of muscle. The old man started thinking twice about using
his fists on me."
"Good for you," Nicole said fiercely. Sam Reston had grown up to be the
kind of man no one beat up on, not without serious consequences.
"Another good thing happened when I was twelve. My brother Harry Bolt
56
arrived and then three months later my other brother Mike Keillor. Harry had tried
to defend his baby sister and his mother against his mom's meth-head boyfriend.
The fucker--pardon my language."
Nicole nodded and waved the expletive away with her free hand. Fucker
sounded about right for a man who hurt little girls. "Fucker beat Harry's little sister
and mom to death. Harry went wild. Put the guy in the hospital but not before he
got both legs broken. He was fostered out to the Hughes. I saw Old Man Hughes
smile as Harry walked through the door on crutches and I knew exactly what he
was thinking. I wasn't an easy target for his rage any more. He needed an outlet
and here comes Harry, crippled, fresh meat. That night I took a knife to Old Man
Hughes and I told him that if he so much as touched the new guy, I'd cut his
miserable hide to ribbons, starting with his balls. I meant every word, too, and I
think he knew it. By that time I was as tall as Hughes, though he had a lot of
weight on me. But it wasn't muscle, it was all gut. Harry healed and Mrs. Colley
shoved as much food down his throat as he could eat and by the end of that year,
he was as big as I was. Harry and I were really tight. And then Mike came. It was
his eighth foster home. The three of us banded together, looked after each other
and we all shipped out as soon as we could. Me to the Navy, Harry to the Army
and Mike to the Marines."
Nicole opened her mouth to say something but he hadn't finished. He
brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, lips warm against her cold skin. Sam's
story had chilled her to the bone.
"Now, the reason I told you all of that is so that you can understand
something. Me and my brothers came out okay because we looked after each
other, no matter what. All three of us know, up close and personal, what it means
when no one looks out for you. When no one cares. And we know, deep down in
our bones, what it means when someone cares and does the right thing. We all
have jobs where we see, daily, the effects of not caring for your kid or your wife or
your parents or your friends."
His face suddenly sharpened, the skin over those high cheekbones
tightening, eyes boring into hers.
"So, Nicole, you will forgive me if I don't find it a turnoff that you love
your father so much. That you're sacrificing important things to make sure he has a
dignified death and you're making sure that he's right where he wants and needs to
be. You're doing the hard thing, the right thing, and I admire you for it. I was
blown away by you the first time I saw you, but by God, it's worse now that I
know what's behind that gorgeous face."
Sam took her hand and, shockingly, brought it under the table, between his
legs. He folded her hand over his penis. His huge, rock-hard penis. At her touch,
she could feel the blood coursing through him, turning his penis even harder,
thicker.
The feel
against her cheek.
How terrible life could be. She'd wept for her dying father and now she
wept for a child who'd never known love, only neglect and violence. She met his
impassive gaze. "Tell me something good happened. Please. Tell me they took you
out of that foster home and put you in another one."
He shook his head. "Nope. Stayed there until I was old enough to enlist.
But a couple of good things did happen. There was a nice elderly lady lived next
door. Mrs. Colley. Strange old coot, but kind-hearted. She was scared to death of
Old Man Hughes but when he wasn't around, she invited me over and stuffed me
full of food. I grew six inches and put on forty pounds in one year. I made sure
they were forty pounds of muscle. The old man started thinking twice about using
his fists on me."
"Good for you," Nicole said fiercely. Sam Reston had grown up to be the
kind of man no one beat up on, not without serious consequences.
"Another good thing happened when I was twelve. My brother Harry Bolt
56
arrived and then three months later my other brother Mike Keillor. Harry had tried
to defend his baby sister and his mother against his mom's meth-head boyfriend.
The fucker--pardon my language."
Nicole nodded and waved the expletive away with her free hand. Fucker
sounded about right for a man who hurt little girls. "Fucker beat Harry's little sister
and mom to death. Harry went wild. Put the guy in the hospital but not before he
got both legs broken. He was fostered out to the Hughes. I saw Old Man Hughes
smile as Harry walked through the door on crutches and I knew exactly what he
was thinking. I wasn't an easy target for his rage any more. He needed an outlet
and here comes Harry, crippled, fresh meat. That night I took a knife to Old Man
Hughes and I told him that if he so much as touched the new guy, I'd cut his
miserable hide to ribbons, starting with his balls. I meant every word, too, and I
think he knew it. By that time I was as tall as Hughes, though he had a lot of
weight on me. But it wasn't muscle, it was all gut. Harry healed and Mrs. Colley
shoved as much food down his throat as he could eat and by the end of that year,
he was as big as I was. Harry and I were really tight. And then Mike came. It was
his eighth foster home. The three of us banded together, looked after each other
and we all shipped out as soon as we could. Me to the Navy, Harry to the Army
and Mike to the Marines."
Nicole opened her mouth to say something but he hadn't finished. He
brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it, lips warm against her cold skin. Sam's
story had chilled her to the bone.
"Now, the reason I told you all of that is so that you can understand
something. Me and my brothers came out okay because we looked after each
other, no matter what. All three of us know, up close and personal, what it means
when no one looks out for you. When no one cares. And we know, deep down in
our bones, what it means when someone cares and does the right thing. We all
have jobs where we see, daily, the effects of not caring for your kid or your wife or
your parents or your friends."
His face suddenly sharpened, the skin over those high cheekbones
tightening, eyes boring into hers.
"So, Nicole, you will forgive me if I don't find it a turnoff that you love
your father so much. That you're sacrificing important things to make sure he has a
dignified death and you're making sure that he's right where he wants and needs to
be. You're doing the hard thing, the right thing, and I admire you for it. I was
blown away by you the first time I saw you, but by God, it's worse now that I
know what's behind that gorgeous face."
Sam took her hand and, shockingly, brought it under the table, between his
legs. He folded her hand over his penis. His huge, rock-hard penis. At her touch,
she could feel the blood coursing through him, turning his penis even harder,
thicker.
The feel
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