KennedyI’m in the office early, attempting fruitlessly to bury myself in paperwork to numb the guilt I feel at wanting a girl less than half my age.I know I can’t act on it. I know both my professionalism and my sense of moral judgement won’t go down without one hell of a fight, no matter what my dick has to say about it.None of my colleagues have even arrived for the day when I receive the latest WTF message from Riven. I type out a response and delete it three times straight. What can I possibly say to him?Found Anna. She’s in your house with a bloody lip and a swollen ankle. Hope you don’t mind?He’d be on a plane home before the morning was out.I send him a simple everything’s fine and curse myself for it. I’ve got less than a week to find Anna a more permanent place to stay, and I’m at a brick wall with all the agencies without her cooperation.Riven’s place is the only viable option for now, although the thought of Anna trampling muddy boots all over his living room carpet
AnnaI don’t know why I’m being like this. I don’t know why I’m pushing him away as soon as he’s walked through the fucking door, but bitchy Anna is running the show and I can’t stop myself talking shit at him.I feel a weird satisfaction in the way he looks so confused. Hurt. He looks hurt, and that’s satisfying too.I don’t know why I want him to think I’m a lazy useless bitch. I only put the TV on when I saw his car pull into the street and I don’t even watch this shitty show. I don’t know why I used a different plate for every sandwich and left them piled up around me for maximum mess. I don’t know why I’m being such a terrible cow to a man who’s only ever tried to help me.Because he doesn’t want me.Because he doesn’t love me.Because he’ll never love me.The urge to give him the finger and tell him to fuck off out of my life is strong. I feel it twisting in my belly, the urge to make him leave me and get this over with.I could scream in his face that he’s a useless prick who p
RivenI thought I’d be able to breathe easy when I finally received a reply from the silent sonofabitch back home. I let out a sigh of fucking relief as his name flashed up, until I saw the ridiculous message.Everything’s fine.Just those two measly words after days of nothing.Like fuck everything’s fine. It’s the most bullshit excuse for a text message I think I’ve ever had from him. I’d laugh at how ridiculous it was if I wasn’t already worried sick about the state of his affairs in my absence.I’ve been trying to ignore it – trying to blank out the prospect of that sappy idiot losing his mind over some pretty piece of trouble while I’m in a different time zone.It’s only when I realise I haven’t registered a damn word in my latest conference session that I call up my calendar and check what events I’d be missing if I left for home early. I curse under my breath, because fucking dammit, there’s at least three presentations I’ve marked on my must see list over the next few days. Bu
AnnaKennedy didn’t come back last night. I thought maybe he’d call or text, but he didn’t. I sat by the landline with his business card in my hand, flipping it over and over and wishing my stupid dumb mouth would open up enough to tell him I’m sorry. But it wouldn’t.I hate TV, so the minute Kennedy left I turned it right back off again. I don’t get why people like the stupid thing so much. Almost every house I’ve ever set foot in has a stupid screen blaring somewhere. I’ve spent loads of time watching people stare at moving pictures on a box like big dumb shits, and I just don’t get it.When you’ve been in foster care as much as I have, you come to know it’s an easy option to palm off every kid that ever wants attention. Why don’t you just behave and watch some TV? Why don’t you sit down in front of the TV and be quiet? Why don’t you just watch the kids channel like every other kid we’ve ever taken care of?Because TV is a fucking life-stealer, you dumbfucks. TV is a fucking sedativ
RivenAnna Josephine is in my fucking living room. Large as fucking life.Her piercing eyes are as wide as fucking saucers, her pretty mouth flapping harder than the bird flapping around the ceiling.My eyes don’t know where to look first, at her, at the crow in my fucking house, or at the state of the place around her. My white carpet is filthy with muddy boot prints. The cushions on my perfect white sofa have been trampled, and they’re covered in mud too. There’s bird shit splattered over the front of my TV, my mantelpiece is in fucking disarray with several of my picture frames smashed on the top.And her, covered in shit, mud and feathers, a picture of horror as she stares right back at me.“The door!” she yells, but I’m too fucking dumbstruck to move. The crow flaps straight over my head and out. She races after it, and I hear her angry wail before I find her in the open front doorway. Her eyes are wild as she glares at me. “You let him out! He needed his foot taking care of and
“Do you have any money?” I look her up and down. It’s a marvel that her beauty shines through the state of her tattered, filthy clothes. Her boots are grubby and old, and I can see a flash of pink sock through a hole in the toe.She shakes her head. “Not yet, but I can earn it. When I get a job I’ll pay you back.”I can’t stand to look at the living room anymore so I step out and close the door behind me. The hall is also covered in boot prints and so is the kitchen. I dare to peek into the dining room and groan in disbelief to see the rainbow shards of what used to be my prized glass sculpture.I hear her footsteps behind me. “I’ll pay for that, too.”I swear under my breath. That sculpture was almost ten grand, a stupidly extravagant purchase at an auction house down in London.I should order her to fuck off out of my house and never fucking come back. I can’t believe she’s even still here, following me around while I uncover more and more of her fucking catastrophe.But Kennedy.Ev
KennedyI should’ve called Anna last night. Or I should’ve at least tried. Even better, I should’ve turned back up at Riven’s and told her I’m not going to be pushed away by her sticking her middle finger up to everyone trying to help. I should’ve told her that if things were different, if I was ten years younger and hadn’t spent the last five months with her on my books, that I’d be falling into bed with her in a heartbeat, for right or wrong.I should’ve told her I care. That I care too much.Riven’s right; this is a midlife crisis and it’s getting the better of me. I can’t get her out of my mind, and it takes every scrap of determination to stay focused on my meetings through the morning, knowing full well she’s at Riven’s getting up to Christ knows what.If she’s even still there.The idea she’s taken off again sends a chill up my spine.I’m talking through career options with a kid called Brooklyn when I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I hope it’s her calling. I hope it’s her wh
“This is so fucking out of order,” he snaps and I nod because it is.“I’m sorry,” I say, which is the truth of it. “I was in a corner. I was trying to do the right thing.”“The right thing would have been to book her into a fucking hotel, Kennedy. The right thing would have been to let me know you’re using my fucking house as emergency accommodation. The right thing would have been to fucking tell me you found her in the fucking first place.”I nod through all of it. Yes, yes and more yes.I feel like a fucking idiot, more off the rails than even I fully realised.“It isn’t his fault,” Anna offers and her simple defence makes my heart pang.“It is my fault,” I counter. “This was my decision, Anna didn’t ask to come here.”“The crow’s your fault,” Anna tells Riven and I will her to shut up before she talks herself into a bigger hole than we’re in already. “You need to fix your fucking fence. It’s dangerous.”It’s a three way stand-off, all of us staring and nobody speaking a word.Rive