Page 2 of Mason

Solid arms wrapped around my waist and dragged me against a big body. “Don’t resist arrest.”

I knew they wouldn’t take me into the precinct. If they took me away I was going to where I’d seen those girls. Images flashed before me of what I’d seen when I’d spied the houses and warehouses. I was not going to let that happen to me. Shutting the images behind doors in my head, I locked them and thought of my family to calm myself.

The guy’s partner came toward us and it was now or never. I let myself go limp, becoming a dead weight for a moment, and then I stiffened and threw my head back with everything I had.

His grip on me loosened and I slipped free. “Fuck. You stupid bitch! I’m gonna kill you.”

The back of my head throbbed and I stumbled away but missed seeing the guy aiming his knee at my chest. Screaming in agony, I crawled on the ground and tried to shield myself from the second kick as I rolled, but it hit my side.

Searching for something to grip, I found a branch and held it tight. I started to stand and when they came at me I swung it around. The officer I headbutted got the full impact and fell to the ground, out cold.

“You. Are. Dead. There’s nowhere you can run we won’t find you,” the other officer growled.

Blocking out his voice I charged him, and as he went for the branch, I let it go and kneed him in the balls, turned, and ran.

The gym that had security all around had one weak spot that I snuck past and got to my hiding spot. It was my place. I knew not even those crooked cops would follow me there.

My box was still where it always was and as I tried to take a calming breath in, I cried out in pain. I fell to the ground, my adrenalin gone and with it any strength I had left. But as I crawled to my box, a calm washed over me and a feeling of belonging settled in as I gave in to the pain and closed my eyes.

I AWOKE ON A GASP of agony as the wind whistled by my alcove. I huddled back against the cardboard box as I shivered with the cold. The pain clouded my vision, but I needed to stay awake, if only for a moment or two. I tried not to think of how my life had changed so quickly in the last four, almost five years, but as the cold wind bashed against my flimsy home and my teeth chattered, my ribs and leg hurt from the fights I’d gotten into when I’d seen what I shouldn’t have. It only got worse when I ran to my safe hiding spot. I’d failed at keeping to the shadows and not being seen when I left the first hiding spot, and I’d almost been caught by the police. I’d learned early on that they just wanted to put me back into foster care or worse. I didn’t want to think about those cops but now, cold and alone, my mind couldn’t stop the flood of memories of how I’d gotten here. Me on my thirteenth birthday waiting at school. The only nice cops I ever remembered. And then, the foster homes. I gripped the doors in my head, not wanting them to open, but between the cold and the pain, I couldn’t keep them shut andshepopped into my head.

I washed the last of the dishes and gave it to Dorthey, who was ten and another foster kid. She went to put it away and it slipped from her fingers. I darted my gaze around for the dust pan and brush but before I could tell Dorthey to run, the evil woman was on us.

Dorthey was the closest to her and as she went to hit Dorthey with the broom, I grabbed it and she turned it on me. I screamed, “Run!”

The broom came down on me over and over and I tried to push the older woman away, but she was a big lady. “You ungrateful little bitch,” she yelled as the handle of the broom came down on me again and again. “I take you all in when nobody wants you and this is how you repay me?”

I fought back, kicking and punching. Her cackle of laughter as I missed hurt more than some of the blows.

When her feet joined in, I crawled to the broken plate, grabbed a shard and jabbed it into her foot with the little strength I had. I got up and ran, but I didn’t get far. I never got far.

I shivered as I came out of my memories and winced as my ribs made themselves known. I’d been on the streets for almost two years straight without being taken back into foster care. I only had five more months before my eighteenth birthday. How I looked forward to walking into the Centrelink office and getting my life back! I moaned at the thought of buying warm, clean clothes, showering, and washing my hair.

The shelters around here were good—if you could get to one safely without a gang trying to grab you—and I tried to stay within fifteen minutes walking distance of the largest. They were busy, and filled within half an hour of opening. I tried to get in because I got to have a proper shower without having to worry someone would jump me. I’d learned that a young girl on her own wasn’t safe and not to trust anyone. I wasn’t safe even when I should have been at my foster homes, but on the streets at least I could fight back and run and hide. I was good at hiding.

This spot I had was one of the best hiding spots. I knew that a lot of the other homeless teenagers and adults I met were scared of this place with all the security that surrounded it and because of some rich person’s name attached to it, but not me. It was strange. For some reason I always felt safe here. I’d always been drawn to this place, not just because of the secure feeling I got when I was near it, but because it calmed me, and wrapped me in a cocoon of warmth. It was a massive gym, with a rough fighting style look on one side, and a more leisurely feel on the other side with a pool. It was an odd U shape and in the middle of the U were the bins where I now made my home.

My teeth chattered with the cold, but I knew I would be almost frozen if I ventured out of my little corner. I should have gone to the hospital. At least I would have been looked after and if I didn’t tell them anything they usually kept the police or any child services away.

My legs ached and it was hard to breathe, but I couldn’t dwell on my pain. I was grateful that I lived in Brisbane and it didn’t ever get cold enough to snow, but at one in the morning in winter when you lived in a box in a corner nook, it was freezing. I snuggled into the thin blanket I was given the last time I got into the shelter, groaned, and I was sure I could hear my ribs creak. Closing my eyes, I promised myself I’d go to the hospital in the morning.

I WAS TIRED. IT WAS two-thirty in the morning and I really should’ve just let my staff throw the trash into the large bins outside, but I only had one other person on at this time and he was basically there as security since the gym was open twenty-four hours.

The night was a chilly one and I was sure it was one of the coldest nights so far this winter. The two massive metal bins blocked the little middle that made the building a U shape. The night was quiet. Except for the cold wind, all you could hear was the crickets. This side of town didn’t see any action. The homeless from the shelter stayed well away from me and my security. My bodyguard had gone to get the car while I did the bins. He knew I could take care of myself and my family hadn’t had any trouble in a while.

I lifted the bin lid, threw the four bags in, and shut it. I turned, rubbing my hands together, and froze when I heard a hissing noise, followed by a moan. Grabbing my phone from my tracksuit pants, I turned on the light and shined it between the small space behind the bins. Fuck. In the corner was a box and what looked to be a little girl. At least I think she was a girl. Her dirty blonde hair was a mess around her pale, dirt covered face. Her thin clothes were ripped and torn, her breasts peeking out of the ripped fabric.

Definitely a woman then.

My heart beat so fast I felt like I’d just sparred for hours as I moved the bins aside and inched closer to the tiny female. She was breathing, but barely. I could see her struggling, her chest rising and falling slower and slower. I lowered myself and ran my phone light over her once more before I called for help. She was covered in blood and her already threadbare clothes were ripped and torn in so many places they were useless. Putting my phone on the ground, I slipped my jumper off and draped it over her, before picking up my phone and calling the ambulance.

I didn’t miss the sigh as I wrapped my jumper more around her and I couldn’t help my grin as she moaned, “Mmm, smells so good.” Her voice sent a shock through my system and I knew that she was special.

This little woman was mine.

My soulmate.

Shocked, I blinked and shook my head as it flooded with all the things I wanted to do. I couldn’t do anything now. As much as I wanted her, I needed to make sure my girl was alright. My heart raced as fear flowed through me at the condition she was in. I needed to find out what happened to her. I had to help her.

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