A Foster Fling Anthology
If I Can’t Have You – Jordain Knolls
I don’t remember much about the kid but I remember the way he looked at me once we were alone. The air shifted, like the oxygen suddenly disappeared. My breath was caught in my throat. I felt like I was on fire, and I knew it wasn’t the liquor anymore making me feel this way
I swallowed hard, trying my fucking hardest to stay calm. He stood from the bed, his gaze never leaving mine as he stalked toward me.
For fourteen, he was intimidating.
He leaned down, placing his hands on either side of my head. His gaze floated across every part of my face. Time was fucking frozen, but I was spiraling.
“What are you doing?” I whispered, my voice cracking.
“Kissing you.” Before I could interject, his lips crashed down on mine.
I was done for. Melting into the bean bag chair as a wave of emotions crashed through me like an angry sea. So many thoughts were going through my head.
I’ve never kissed a boy before.
Why did I like it so much?
Where is Gabe?
Why is he kissing me?
But the main one stirring in my head was what is he going to do next?
I never got that answer.
I never would.
Because while he was kissing me, Gabe was in our dads office, loading a shot gun, putting it to his head, and pulling the trigger.
The rest of that night and so many months after were one giant blur and My life crashed and burned. I never saw that Forster kid again.
And every night since, I’ve spent my time dousing my pain with the Lords amber embrace.
Destructive Harbor – Ally Vance
When I picked up my latest foster daughter from the social services office, I found a young, woman who was little more than a shell veiled with defiance. It called to my protective urges, and I knew I had to take her. The report I was given when they told me they had another foster child for me detailed a troubled past, the reason she was thrown into the system, along with the history of previous foster parents she’d had.
It’s a game of chance when someone enters the system, whether they’ll end up in a loving, nurturing home, or with someone who does it for the paycheck. I won’t deny that the money isn’t a nice bonus, but it’s more than that.
Ten years ago my wife passed away suddenly from a heart attack, taking with her our unborn child and leaving me with my young son and a half-empty heart. I had a lot of love and care to give, so I applied to become a carer for the unwanted and lost children who needed a safe harbor to reside in.
What I didn’t expect was how deeply I would come to care for her, or how wrongly I would feel. There are boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, and all I want is to hurtle straight over them to the other side.
I’m supposed to be the one offering her safety, comfort, and the love of a surrogate parent, but all I want to do is take her in ways I shouldn’t even consider, that I shouldn’t be dreaming about.
The quiet, reserved girl is calling out to the darker side of me, creating a storm in the harbor I’ve spent years creating, threatening to destroy it. The darkness of her eyes, contrasting with her honey-colored hair and fair skin made her far more appealing than I had any right to find her.
All my life I’ve given everything in me to those I’ve taken care of, have loved. But when Robyn Wymer walked through the door to my home, with her shaking hand clutching mine, I had no idea what kind of storm was about to be unleashed, and what the lasting effects of that would be.