Page 49 of Master
“Clara?”
His voice called after me as I bolted.
Keeping in the shadows, I ran all the way to Mei's cottage, coming to a halt beside a climbing rosebush. The fragrance reminded me of the good things on Earth, and I gulped deep breaths, trying to calm my erratic heart.
“Clara!”
Tarook sounded frantic. Although with his speed, I doubt I’d left his sight during my run to the cottage. Warm hands closed over my shoulders, traveling the length of my arms as his dark golden eyes examined me.
"What is it, darlin’? Did I do something wrong?"
"No. It's not you." My throat felt dry from running, my words breathless.
“You are upset.”
I felt the touch of Tarook's fingertips against my cheek. After Curtis' illness, it took a lot to make me cry, so the wetness on the pads of his fingers shocked me.
“Tell me how to fix what frets you?” The desperate sincerity of his tone hugged my heart.
“Can you go back in time?” I said with a self-deprecating huff.
Tarook squared his shoulders. He cupped my chin, raising my gaze to his.
“If I could stop your abduction, I would do so without hesitation. Even if it meant we would never meet.”
The look in his eyes made my heart break a little. "You're going to need to go back a little farther than that, Tarook.”
“I don’t understand.” He tucked an errant strand of my hair behind my ear, trailing comforting … and enticing fingertips along my jaw and across my shoulder.
The light post at the end of the street made Tarook’s eyes gleam like molten gold. It would be easy to lay my mood at the feet of homesickness. But I knew lying to him would be impossible.
“You’ve heard the villagers talk about the children coming on the Bardaga?" I asked, stepping closer to him as a chill crept along the breeze.
“Yes, most seem happy for the arrival of the younglings.”
“I hope so,” I murmured, then hesitated. The only person who knew my truth took it to his grave. I knew Tarook would be as trustworthy. I needed to tell him. The secret weighed on my heart like a stone. "I was like the children on the Bardaga. An orphan.”
“Orphan?” Tarook’s eyes flickered back and forth as he interpreted. "You were without parents?"
"Yes. I never knew my parents. My earliest memory was after I entered foster care."
“Someone named Foster cared for you?” he frowned.
I chuckled, relaxing somewhat. "Not really. On Earth, foster care is when adults take in children who have no one else to care for them. Sometimes, you get lucky and find people who want to love and care for you forever. Sometimes you don't.”
"You did not," Tarook guessed. He cupped my cheek in his palm, and I leaned into the comforting touch. The golden eyes regarded me tenderly.
“I was a difficult child," I confessed, feeling regret heat my cheeks. "I didn't trust people easily—still don't. No one mistreated or abused me. Nobody wanted me.”
“I find that hard to believe,” he smiled ruefully, fingertips stroking the curve of my neck. I ignored the heat building low in my belly and concentrated on the comfort he offered.
“My first foster home was pleasant, but my foster mother got pregnant, and she wanted her own kids.” I smiled at Tarook’s low, angry growl. “I was six years old when I left that home, and the older you get, the harder it is to find anyone who wants you. I went through five different foster homes until I was eighteen.”
“What happened at eighteen?”
"You're considered an adult," I shrugged, remembering I had been far from being an adult at that age. “The birthday I turned eighteen, my foster mother met me at the door with a suitcase. She had my things packed and wished me luck.”
Tarook loosed another low growl and ran his hands over my shoulders, pulling me into a loose embrace. I sighed, letting his touch soothe me. I felt so safe… so accepted, like I could tell him anything without judgment.
