Release by Brenda Rothert

Author:Brenda Rothert [Rothert, Brenda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silver Sky Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2014-12-13T00:00:00+00:00

Orion

The window air conditioner in Samara’s apartment shut off, blanketing the bedroom in quiet. The damned thing had probably broken – it sure as hell hadn’t shut off because it was cool in here.

It had to be more than eighty degrees in this apartment. And yet, it was perfect. We were tangled up in each other on top of the bed, surrounded by complete darkness. Samara had surprised me by having her shirt pulled up when she curled up in my outstretched arms. I was finally feeling her warm, soft skin against mine. Her shorts exposed her legs, which I had my thigh hooked over.

“I’ve never watched a hockey game,” she said out of the blue. I laughed at her confession, stroking the damp, sweaty hair at her neckline.

“Will you come see me play?”

“I’d love to.”

“I’m gonna miss this. Falling asleep with you every night.”

Her fingertips traced across my chest. “Me too.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Did things go bad with your adoptive family? Is that why you never talk about them?”

She was silent for a few seconds. I ran my fingertips down her spine, hoping she was ready to open up to me about this.

“I was never adopted,” she finally said. My fingers froze.

“What do you mean? You said you went into foster care when you were five.”

“I did. But I was never adopted.”

“You were in foster care … for …?” I stumbled over the words, my mind reeling.

“Until I turned eighteen,” she said softly.

“Samara.” My throat tightened and I resumed stroking my fingertips across her back. “That must’ve been hard.”

“It was at first. I thought something was wrong with me. But after a year or so, I realized it was never gonna happen. People are afraid to adopt kids like me.”

“What does that mean – kids like you?” I asked, picturing a beautiful little girl with big hazel eyes and a dazzling smile.

She sighed, her breath warm on my chest. “Kids who’ve witnessed sexual abuse. It has to be disclosed to potential adoptive parents.”

I thought I might stop breathing as her words sank in. It hit like the hardest blow I’d ever taken in a fight. I wished the lights were on right now so I could see her. But maybe the darkness made her able to talk about it.

“Samara. Baby, I’m sorry. Were you—”

She cut me off. “No. I never was. But my father abused my mother in every way possible. Physically, emotionally … and he raped her in front of me.”

I wrapped my arms around her tightly. This fucking hurt. My chest was as tight as my throat as I imagined the child she’d been enduring such horror. I wished I hadn’t asked. But that wasn’t fair. Sharing meant everything – both the good and the bad – and she was worth it.

“I don’t remember much of it,” she said. “And out of six foster homes, only one was shitty. That’s pretty good.”

“So you were in a foster home during high school?”

I felt her nodding against my shoulder.

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