Addison (The Mitchell/Healy Family #6)(21)



After living with my foster family, I saw what life was supposed to be like. It sent me further over the edge. I was always trying to wiggle my way toward something better, only to fall on my ass when I thought it was within reach. My relationship with Addison was going to end the same way. At some point she’d see me for who I really was, and then all bets were off. She’d kick me to the curb, not even caring if I overdosed and died. She’d hate me that much. My family was the reason one of her siblings wasn’t born. I’d heard the stories. I’d researched them online when the truth was too gruesome to believe. My uncle had kidnapped and tortured her mother for ransom money. Who knows if he was aware of her pregnancy or not. He still violently beat her and left her in a basement malnourished. That unborn baby died by his hands, and like it or not, that was something a family can never get over.

For the record I never met him. I’d seen pictures, and I remember my grandmother going to visit him in prison. She used to talk terrible about the Mitchells, claiming one of their children was her grandchild. She obviously had a screw loose. All the Mitchell kids were being raised by their parents. I assume it was all a ploy to try and get more money out of them.

I hated my family – every single one of them. My only wish was that I would have died of starvation before I was able to see what it was like to live with a normal, loving family. It was torture for me, knowing I’d grown up amongst filth who only cared for themselves. Why she didn’t give me up for adoption was beyond me. I suppose she liked getting checks from the government to support her habit.

For so many years I swore I’d never be like her. I remember finding pipes and spoons all over the shack she called our home. When she was there, she’d be so strung out she couldn’t function. Accident – it’s what she always called me. I wasn’t meant to happen. I was a waste of space to her life – a welfare check and that’s all.

How does one recover from that?

I joined the military because I wanted my life to stand for something, and for a while it did. I was proud to be a part of something so important. Had I not gotten involved with my ex perhaps I still would have been on the straight and narrow. The thing is, I’d never considered myself an addict until I came home. Joe pushed me to my first meeting, and when that didn’t work, to rehab.

Looking back, it brought Addison into my life. As f*cked up as it seemed, I was happy about it. It was still too soon to tell, but I could see us having a good time together, for as long as it was able to go on.

With the wind blowing in her car windows, Addison had the music blaring as we left the little swimming spot. The sun was starting to set and we both agreed to pack up before we were eaten by mosquitos, plus we were starving. Instead of going back to the ranch like I feared, Addison found a sun dress in her trunk. Actually, after looking inside I’m pretty sure she had enough clothes to go out of town and never need to buy anything. The girl was a pack rat. Her explanation was that when she worked at the hospital she never knew if someone was going to throw a drink or a food tray at her. Though it never happened as of yet, I understood the need to have something to change into. Since I knew Joe was working, we headed back to my foster parent’s house. Her face and shoulder were sun-kissed from basking all day, so I offered her the shower first. She took her time making her way to the bathroom, stopping to look at photos on the walls. “You’re in a lot of these.”

“This was where I grew up.”

“Yes, but if they didn’t love you they wouldn’t keep remnants of your life out for everyone to see. I think it’s genuine.”

“Or they feel sorry for me.” I changed the subject, because talking about my upbringing was off limits. “If you don’t get a shower, I’m jumping in first.”

“Does this bathroom have a lock?”

“Does it need one? Are you still worried I might take advantage of you?”

“I’m not trying to lock you out. I’m trying to keep myself in,” she snickered with her response.

I lifted my finger to point right at her. “You’re bad. I may need to start worrying about your intentions.”

She closed the door as she explained. “You just might.”

Some people might have felt offended after the day we’d shared together, but not me. I knew on the other side of the bathroom door was someone who made me smile. For the life of me I couldn’t remember the last time I’d known someone who could do that. What started as flirting had blossomed, and I couldn’t wait to experience more.

Addison didn’t take long in the shower. When she came out she had a towel wrapped around her head. I could already tell she wasn’t wearing a bra under the thin dress. Her nipples were hard, and as much as I would have liked to avoid looking, I couldn’t prevent it.

“Do you want me to wash your dirty clothes?”

“No. I’ll do it when I get home.”

“Are you going to stick around for a while?” I asked.

“Did you want me to leave?”

“No. Not really. I was thinking we could watch a movie, or order something to chow on.”

“I’m so starving I could eat a whole cow.”

I scratched my head but kept a straight face. “A whole cow, huh. Well, I don’t know anyone who can deliver that within thirty minutes or less. How about a pizza instead?”

Jennifer Foor's Books