Page 73 of The Love Scam
“Delaney. It’s okay, honey. You’re safe.”
She was?
“You can go anywhere. Do anything.”
She could?
“You don’t have to stay here.”
But—she did. That was the problem of the foster care system in its entirety: You had to stay. No matter what. Until you were eighteen. There were rules. So many rules, and so many people who ignored them or, worse, obeyed them. She wished she and her friends could have their own safe place. Not just one, either. But that meant surviving; that meant turning eighteen and then working to make it happen.
But… shewaseighteen. And… maybe older?
Wasn’t she?
“Of course, you’re a grown woman. You don’t take shit from anybody. And you go wherever you want, every day.”
Could it be true?Oh, please let it be true.She wouldn’t ask for anything else if she was safe. Being alone wasn’t so bad if she was safe. She wasn’t greedy. She hated greed. She’d never ask for more than she earned.
“You deserve everything in the world, Delaney, and wanting to be safeandhappy isn’t greedy. Won’t you please come back to bed? You’re only wearing one sock.”
One sock? But that was ridiculous. And these thoughts—these tiresome, constant worries she had—they weren’t ridiculous. They werescary.They werereal.If something was ridiculous, it must be a dream.
So this was a dream.
This was awonderfuldream.
“Okay,” she said, and the ridiculous man who chased away the scary stuff seemed pleased, and that was nice, too. She let out a small giggle, but the ridiculous man didn’t mind at all, which was more proof—not that it was needed!—that he was ridiculous.
More proof this was one of the nicest dreams ever.
Almost as good as the ones where she could fly away.
“C’mon, honey. You and your one sock, won’t you come back to bed?”
Well,sure.Grand idea! One sock! Ridiculous man!
“Okay,” she agreed, and felt herself tucked in and kissed, very lightly, on the forehead. A ridiculous spot for a kiss! Which was the point!
Betterthan the dreams where she could fly. And once she’d decided that, she tumbled back down into sweet dark sleep.
Forty-two
When she woke, it was just getting dark.Napped the afternoon away. Never get to sleep tonight. Oh, well. I was going to have trouble sleeping anyway.
She rolled over on her side and saw Rake was awake and looking at her. “There you are,” he said, smiling.
“Here I am,” she agreed. She stretched, not caring that the sheet was around her knees—she never understood when women got modest about their bodiesaftersex. A classic case of locking the barn door after the horse ran off. And then had the best sex of its life.
Besides, he liked her body and she enjoyed how his gaze dropped to her breasts when she stretched. That was all right; she pretty much thought he had the best body she’d ever seen, too. All long gorgeous lines, broad shoulders, long muscular legs, flat stomach, defined biceps, big hands, big—oofta.
“Hungry? You must be.”
“Yes, but it’s time to finish our talk. Tomorrow’s going to be here way too soon.”
Her stomach didn’t sink; it plunged. He was talking inthat awful new voice again, only now the calm, sorrowful tone was laced with regret. For what they had done? For what was coming?
“Okay,” she said, and pulled the sheets up to her neck. Suddenly it was no good being exposed; she hadn’t felt a bit vulnerable when his glorious thick cock was filling her up, and before that his fingers and tongue,Christ,good-looking men were almost always shitty in bed, but Rake was the exception—but she sure did now. She didn’t want a bedsheet, she wanted a parka.
