Page 76 of The Beast's Heart

I manage to swallow my bite of toast without choking. “It doesn’t matter.”

Even without the aid of my glasses, I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “It must have been important for you to…”

“Break the rules?” I finish for him.

He inclines his head slightly.

I stare down at the tray, the carefully arranged meal. He’s right, it was important. But now I need to decide if I can trust him with it. Or if his temper is going to harm Mal. “Do you know why Mal’s adopted family returned him to the system?”

“Reactive attachment disorder.”

He must see from my expression that I have no idea what that means.

“It’s when a child who’s experienced neglect struggles to function in an environment where they are cared for. They tend to be moody, withdrawn, reactionary… difficult to live with. Far from the grateful little angel that some adoptive parents expect.” His mouth twists with scorn. “He had “adjustment issues”, apparently. Made their lives too complicated.”

“That’s all they said, nothing else?”

“Why? Is there something else? Did he do something?” His voice drops a full octave, into that growl. “Did theyharmhim?”

I know what he means and I shiver, closing my eyes in vain against the horrific image. “Did they do anything physical to him? No. I don’t think so. But I can’t even imagine how traumatic it must be to finally think you’ll be safe and loved and then to be discarded like that. Like a puppy or an ill-fitting pair of shoes.”

Adam nods. I wish I could see clearly. I feel so lost and vulnerable without my glasses. “Iwantto tell you. As his foster father, of course you should know. But… He trusted me withthis. You understand?”And if you react badly…I draw an unsteady breath.

Adam sighs. “Shit.” He rubs his face. “I understand. You don’t want to tell The Beast.”

The marmalade is too sweet on my tongue and too bitter all at once. “I want to tell Adam. That’s why I sought you out after all.”

“And you found The Beast.” He moves the tray so that he can bring his face closer, letting me see his expression plainly, his earnest gaze. “Jonathan, I promise you can trust me with this. Withthem. I’m not going to hurt them.”

I draw another deep breath. “You said once that you believed in tough love and discipline.”

He takes my hand in his. “Well maybe you’ve changed my mind. What is it, Jonathan? Please tell me.”

My heart swells. I squeeze his hand, choosing trust. “He was hiding something. That’s why he didn’t want you near his bed. It was under the mattress.”

“Yeah?”

This is the difficult part. I brace myself, whispering, “A silver cigarette case.”

His eyes widen in recognition. “He’s beenstealing?”

“No. Yes, but just one thing. Mementos. That’s what he calls them. Just one item from every place he’s lived. You should have seen him,” I insist. “He’s beyond contrite.”

Adam’s frown deepens.

“I’m not sure how or when he took Lloyd’s cigarette case, or why he chose that particular item. I didn’t ask because he told me… he told me that when his adopted parents found his stash, they called the police on him and returned him to the system.”

Adam drops his head into his hands. “Fuuck.”

I forge on. “I’m not sure what to do here.”

“You don’t want to punish him,” Adam states, still covering his face. It’s not a question.

“Hasn’t he been punished enough in his short life?”

Adam sighs again.

“We should probably tell his therapist, right?” I suggest. “And the social worker?”

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