Secrets Abound (Supernaturally Bound Book 1) by Erica Lee Cooke Page B

two months.” He informed me.
    “I didn’t know you were a foster kid.” My eyebrows flew up.
    “Back at you.” He chewed his bottom lip near his lip ring. “Listen, I know how awful it can get there. If you need a place to stay or anything, just call me.” He handed me a piece of paper he’d scribbled his number on.
    “Okay, thanks.” I smiled appreciatively. “So, where did you go after you left Bill and Judy’s? I mean, you were still in Waverly, I’m assuming.”
    “There’s another foster home on Montrose Court. It was a little better than here.” He gave a tight smile.
    “But they are never really good, are they?” I pursed my lips, already knowing the answer.
    “No they aren’t.” His tone held a deep understanding.
    “Do you still live there?” I asked.
    “No, I live in the apartments on Thirty-Seventh Street.” He told me. “I moved out as soon as I turned seventeen.”
    “But you stuck around Waverly?” I asked.
    “Yeah, I like my jobs and friends here.”
    “Oh.” I paused in silent thought. “I guess I’ll see you later. Thanks for the ride.” I told him as I got out of the car.
    As I strolled up the driveway to my house, I thought of how terrific it was to talk to someone who survived foster care. It gave me a form of hope that there was actually a light at the end of this dreadful tunnel. My seventeenth birthday was months away, but it seemed like an eternity. My chest felt warm as I recalled Damon’s offer.
    I unlocked the front door to a spotless living room, which could only mean one thing.
    “There’s an inspection tomorrow. Make sure your room and the bathroom are pristine.” Judy barked, coming out of her bedroom after hearing the door. “And I need your tips from tonight.” She held out her hand.
    “What? No. We need that for food.” I argued. The assault was abrupt and unexpected as Judy’s hand made contact with the side of my face.
    “Don’t sass me. I am not going to ask you, again.” She warned. Irritated, I yanked the wad of ones out of my bag and handed them to her. “You need to come straight home from school tomorrow. Do not be late.”
    I stomped off to my room to clean. Clarissa had most of it done by the time I got there. I started folding the clean clothes that had been piled in the basket.
    “Hey, Clarissa, you were here six years ago, right?” I asked her, grabbing a shirt.
    “Yeah, I’ve been living here for seven years. Why?”
    “Do you remember a guy named Damon?” I grabbed a pair of pants from the basket.
    “Yeah I remember him.”
    “Why was he only here for a couple of months? What happened?” I asked her.
    “He got in a fist fight with Bill. They kicked him out.” She answered quietly.
    “What? Why?” I pried. Her expression became guarded.
    “Well, no one told you this, but,” she paused, glancing away from me, “Bill used to get real handsy with the girls when he got drunk.” She admitted. I was shocked. I had no idea. I thought I’d finally found a foster home that didn’t have those issues. Foster Care Tip #3: Just because you do not see it happening, does not mean that it isn’t. She continued, “There was this one girl living here at the time. Her name was Linda. Bill was trying to mess with her one night. Damon intervened, but of course, he was the one punished, not Bill. Before Damon left, he told Bill he’d kill him if he found out he did anything to anyone else. I guess it scared Bill enough to not do it again because he hasn’t since.”
    “Wow.” I exclaimed and then cautiously asked, “Did he ever do anything to you?”
    “No, I was only nine at the time. He usually started around twelve. But if it hadn’t been for Damon, he would have.” She explained. “Why’d you ask me about him, anyway?”
    “He’s working at the diner. He mentioned living here, so I was curious.”
    “He is? Is he doing okay?” She asked her tone a bit too eager.
    “I think so. I mean, I don’t know him that well,