Page 29 of Second Shot

I know some kids go looking for their birth parents. Not me. I wanted nothing to do with the woman who neglected me, who’d used our government subsidy for drugs rather than food. And I sure as hell didn’t want anything to do with the asshole who’d shown up once every couple of years to beat the shit out of the two of us, before leavingagain.

People talk a lot of crap about foster families, but I was lucky. The Hilliers took me in, and they fought to keep me. They were never able to officially adopt me, but they were my parents in every way thatmattered.

Kiley wasn’t asfortunate.

I don’t know much about her past, other than she was sent into foster care when she was still in diapers. But unlike me, she flipped from family to family until she finally aged out of the system lastyear.

She picks at her nails and fidgets, looking like she’s ready to bolt at any second. The last time I saw her, she’d been wearing the same torn jeans, same black hoodie, but at least then they’d beenclean.

“I know you told me not to come here,” she stutters, glancing around nervously, and I can see the small tremor that causes her hands to shake. From drugs, lack of food, or both, I don’t know. But one thing’s for sure, she’s in trouble. “But,I…”

I don’t know the girl. Other than sharing the same DNA as a deadbeat junkie, we have no connection. But I can’t ignore the nagging pressure at the back of my skull that she’s myresponsibility.

Shit. I have too much going on right now to deal with another addict. And, in all honesty, getting pulled back into that world scares the shit out ofme.

“What do youneed?”

She chews on her bottom lip and gives a small shake of her head. “I’m…just late on this month’s rent. I know I told you I didn’t want any money, and I don’t.But…”

“Howmuch?”

“Five hundred. I’ll pay you back. Iswear.”

How many times had Sam said the same thing? I never saw the cash. Not that I expected to. I didn’t give two shits about the money I gavehim.

And if I didn’t think the girl would race off to her dealer for another hit of whatever she’s on, I’d give her whatever she askedfor.

“You using?” I have to ask it, even though I already know the truth. The dark circles under her eyes, her thin, almost frail features, the way her clothes hang off her body - the trembling. I know thesigns.

“What?” Her already too big eyes widen, then she shakes her head. “No. This was a bad idea. I should go. I’m sorry for buggingyou.”

She starts to walk away, and I curse under my breath. “Kiley,wait.”

Hands tucked into the front pocket of her hoodie, shoulders slumped forward, she turns slightly so I can only see half of her face, but what I do see guts me – humiliation, pain,fear.

“Come inside. I’ll order us something to eat. You can get cleanedup-”

“I can’t,” she mumbles. “I have to be at…” Her mouth clamps shut on whatever she was going tosay.

A car pulls up behind mine, and gives a small honk when I don’tmove.

Fuck.

I pull out my wallet. Two hundred bucks. That’s all I have onme.

“Here.” I hand her the money, and when she doesn’t take it, I grab her hand and place the bills in it. “I’m away for a couple days. Come back on Tuesday and we’ll talk. I’ll get you whatever youneed.”

The horn blares again, this timelonger.

I glare at the guy before turning back to Kiley. “We’ll get you the help youneed.”

“I’m not a junkie.” The words are whispered, her voicefaltering.

Another honk. This time, I turn and give the guy the finger. “Two fucking minutes,man.”

But when I turn back, Kylie is disappearing around thecorner.

I doubt she’ll comeback.

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