A Hateful Negotiation

Chapter One Blake

Chapter One

Blake

Eight years old

I looked up at the house. White paint. It had a green door. I liked that.

“Okay.” Mr. Nathan was sitting beside me.

We’d come in his car, and he had some stuff on his lap.

He was looking through some papers while he was huffing and muttering under his breath.

I learned long ago that was just what Mr. Nathan did.

He was in charge of me. He brought me to these homes, left me, and would come back later to ask how everything was going.

I learned after the first home it was better if I always told him everything was fine.

I was fine.

He would ask. That would be my response, except some of the times, I wished I could ask if he could sneak me food.

Sometimes there were no places to hide the food, but I was good at finding places.

It was just making sure you hid your treats in there when no one was watching, and also getting them out. You had to be real sneaky.

But I hadn’t asked Mr. Nathan for the extra treats, just so my tummy didn’t growl. It bothered my last foster brother, and he’d punch me to make it stop.

I didn’t want to make him angry, but I couldn’t help my tummy. Punching me never stopped my tummy, so my foster brother would be angry all day long. That would make his real mom in a bad mood too. She didn’t like when her real son was angry.

It was my fault.

The last time Mr. Nathan came to see how I was doing, I didn’t need to say anything. He looked at me and started shaking without saying anything. I started to get worried I’d done something to make him mad, but he gave me a small smile and said we were going for treats.

Treats! I was a sucker for treats.

“You go and get your bag packed, Blake. Okay?”

My face hurt from when my foster mom had gotten angry at me, but I couldn’t hold the smile back.

I kept my face tucked down so my foster mom or brother wouldn’t get mad at me again.

Though, in my defense, I knew that they were just angry people.

They wanted to hurt others, and I was the one in front of them. They were those kind of people.

I got to the stairs when Mr. Nathan called my name again.

I froze, scared he had changed his mind. I looked over my shoulder, and he was giving me another one of those nice smiles of his. I liked when he gave me that look. It meant everything was fine. That I hadn’t messed up.

He gave me a small nod. “Pack all of your items.”

My eyebrows shot up.

Did that mean . . . ?

A new sense of excitement rushed through me. Oh boy, oh boy. We were going for treats, and he wasn’t bringing me back. That meant I’d get so much food that my tummy would hurt, but I liked when it was that hurt. Too much food was never a problem for me.

I didn’t look at my foster mom and brother, though I could feel how angry they were.

That was how we were here now, in this driveway.

“What do you think, Blake? You think you might like living here?”

I looked at him. He was always so tired.

He was a nice man, but he needed to learn how to comb his hair.

Maybe I could give him one of my combs. I tended to get a new one each year for Christmas from the Salvation Army.

I really only needed one, so yeah. I’d give Mr. Nathan one as his Christmas present from me.

We hadn’t even gotten to Halloween yet, but that meant it was three holidays away.

I nodded to Mr. Nathan. “I like the door.”

He paused before lifting his head. His eyes widened, and his mouth curved up in a smile, a real smile. “Oh. Yes. Well, look at that. Maybe they knew you were coming? A green door for a Miss Little Blake Green?” His eyes were twinkling now.

I giggled, but more because Mr. Nathan seemed actually happy. It wouldn’t last, but I still liked it when it happened. “You’re teasing me.”

He chuckled. “I am. You’re such a smart little girl.

” He relaxed back in his seat, and I swear his smile got a little bit bigger and his eyes shone a bit happier.

That made me happier. “This is a good home, Blake. Miss Marcie is a good woman. Now, there’s going to be a lot of other kids in there.

So if you’re uncomfortable with anyone or scared, I want you to tell me. ”

Some of my smile slipped.

“I mean it, Blake. I really do want you to tell me. Will you promise to tell me if there’s anything or anyone who scares you?”

I nodded, but I didn’t like that he was making me promise that. He didn’t know what it was like sometimes, not having anyone want you or love you. The other kids in school all had mommy and daddies. They liked their kids. I could tell when they picked them up after school.

I didn’t have that. Maybe one day. That would be amazing.

“You ready to meet Miss Marcie and your new foster brothers and sisters?”

I gave him another nod, though I never liked this part.

I liked the part that we just did, when we sat in the car looking at the new home and I could pretend for a moment that my future family lived inside.

It was the best, but then we’d actually go inside, and I always knew that they never really wanted me there.

Mr. Nathan got out of his car on his side, and I got out on my side, shutting the door.

He circled the front of the car, reaching for my hand.

I took it. My tummy started to twist. That had nothing to do with the candy Mr. Nathan let me have on the drive over.

He led the way to a back door and pushed the doorbell.

He squeezed my hand. “It’ll be fine, Blake.

I should’ve brought you here first. It’s just that Miss Marcie’s always filled to the maximum.

Still, she said she’d meet you. We’ll make it work.

This will be good for you and maybe her.

She’s not had a little girl in so long. She’s been asking—”

There was a pounding of footsteps on the other side of the door.

“I got it—”

“I got it!”

“You—”

“Boys!”

A bunch of boys were fighting on the other side of the door until someone hushed them.

The door swung open. Oh, boy. All the boys!

There were so many. Three right in front of us.

One of them had flung the door open. He stood before us, his hand still on the door.

He was older than me, and he looked me over before his nose wrinkled. “What? No way. We got another girl?”

One of the others shoved in front of him and pointed at me. “What happened to your face?”

That made the other boys start laughing before one shoved his elbow into the other’s chest, and that one wrapped his arm around the boy’s neck, yanking him down to the ground. Soon, all three were wrestling.

“Boys!” that same voice from before barked. “Take it outside or into the basement. And if someone gets hurt, you know what’ll happen.”

“Yeah, yeah,” one of them whined. “We have to eat all the vegetables that the others don’t finish. Ugh. Broccoli!”

“Exactly. Death by vegetables.”

I wanted to hide behind Mr. Nathan, except as I began inching behind him, a woman moved in front of the door. She was big and tall, almost as tall as Mr. Nathan, and she was wearing the most colorful dress. Her skin was dark, darker than mine. Her hair was up in braids, wrapped around her head.

She looked like a goddess.

She was beautiful.

She was taking me in, too, and she knelt down, a smile on her face. “Well, hello there. Who have you brought me this time, Nathan?”

Mr. Nathan patted my shoulder, gently. “I’ve brought you a special one.”

“I can see that.” She was still taking me in, lingering on my face, and I knew she was seeing the bruises still there. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

I couldn’t speak. She was that beautiful.

“I’m Miss Marcie.” She held out her hand. “What should I call you?”

Oh. Whoa. This was a serious thing. I stepped forward and put my hand in hers.

Her smile was almost blinding as we shook, and I said, “Blake.” My voice came out as a whisper, and that was embarrassing. I ducked my head down, starting to inch back again.

“That’s a beautiful name.”

I stopped and lifted my head again.

She was still smiling at me. This time she looked at Mr. Nathan, straightening back up. “You don’t play fair, Nathan.”

“I know, but . . .”

She waved her hand at him. “You hush.” She moved farther away from the door, an arm sweeping inside. “Come on in. You got her bag in the car?”

“I do. I didn’t know—”

She laughed. “As if there’d be any question with this one.”

“You have room? I know you’re stretched as is—”

She made another of those hushing movements with her arm. “We’ll make room. We got one that barely spends his time here as is.”

They did the adult thing. Talking. Laughing.

Then talking in hushed tones. That’s when I knew they were talking about me or talking about something they didn’t want me to hear.

Mr. Nathan had me go to the car to grab my bag, and when I was coming back, a boy was sitting on the back doorsteps, staring at me.

He was different from the ones inside.

Bigger. Taller. Older.

He was pretty.

I’d never seen a boy as pretty as him, but he was hard.

Tan skin. Blank eyes. Black hair. He had a bruise on his face too.

Just like me. But he was hard on the inside.

He might’ve looked like another boy, though he was so much prettier, but I knew he wasn’t like other boys.

His eyes gave that away, that he was different.

If Mr. Nathan asked me what I meant, I couldn’t explain. It was only something I knew.

“You’re living here now?”

I got shy again, the nervous flutters in my tummy again, but this time those flutters were moving all over me on the inside. I couldn’t talk again. Most times when I got like this, I looked away. I could pretend I was alone, and the flutters would go away.

I couldn’t do that this time. I couldn’t look away from this boy.

I didn’t know why. I just couldn’t.

“What’s your name?”

“Blake,” I whispered.

“What’s your last name?”

I couldn’t answer, but I looked at the green door behind him.

He shifted, looking where I did.

He rotated back. “Door?”

A giggle slipped out, and aghast, I clamped a hand over my mouth. That was embarrassing too.

His face didn’t change, but I thought maybe he softened.

I shook my head.

“Green?” He grinned.

I bobbed my head up and down.

“How old are you?”

“Eight.”

He didn’t say anything after that, still taking me in.

I moved forward and reached up.

He went still, letting me get closer to him, close enough until my fingertips touched his bruise.

“This?” He was eyeing the bruises on my face. “I’m thinking I got mine in the same way you got yours? Someone got mad at you?”

I nodded, feeling sad.

He gave me another grin, but this one was a mask.

Adults did that a lot. Smile when they didn’t feel it.

They were faking, but with him, it felt like it was just something he did all the time.

I didn’t feel he was trying to lie to me.

Like it was his mask for the world, so others didn’t see the real him.

Did that work? I couldn’t tell.

“In my case, I deserved it. And I finished it. There’d be nothing you could do to give someone a reason to do that to you.” His smile faded. His mask fell, and I knew this was the real him. “You want me to hurt them? I’m good at that sort of thing. The ones who did that to you?”

My breath hitched. He was serious.

He leaned closer, dropping his voice. “You don’t have to decide now.

You think on it. If you decide you want me to hurt them, I will.

” There was movement behind the door. The sound of voices was nearing.

He sighed and stood up. “Don’t tell them you met me.

Okay? Miss Marcie would give me a whole lecture on top of the normal lecture I know is coming my way. ”

I frowned.

Catching my look, he stepped around me, now standing on the cement, and he was so tall.

He looked down at me, reaching into his pocket.

He pulled out a cigarette, lifting it to his mouth.

He didn’t light it, still just holding my gaze.

“Listen, this is a good place. Miss Marcie is a good woman. I’m sure she already creamed her pants at seeing you.

No doubt she’s going to treat you like a princess, but by the looks of it, you deserve it.

You been through a rough one. We all have been.

” He lit the cigarette and took a drag before motioning to the house, stepping farther around me.

I moved with him, my back now to the house. “What’s your name?” My voice was still a whisper, but I got it to sound stronger. Like an adult.

He was inching farther and farther away, but his eyes didn’t waver.

He stopped now. One more step to the side and he could disappear into the neighbor’s backyard.

He lowered the cigarette. “They’re going to tell you things about me, but it won’t be true.

It’ll be true for others. Not you. A promise from me to you. You never have to be scared of me.”

I got warm all over. He meant it. It was one of those sacred promises made. A rare one that was meant. I knew he meant it. I just felt it.

I whispered back, “You don’t have to be scared of me either.”

He just continued to stare at me. “I know.”

The door started to open behind me.

The boy said, “My name’s Creighton. You can call me Eight.”

“Blake?” Mr. Nathan was in the doorway, frowning. His gaze swept behind me. “Were you talking to someone out here?”

I looked again, but he was gone.