Page 29 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)

My heart bulges with fury. I know I have shit to my name, but to hear it fucking hurts.

I know what he’s doing, and it’s working.

He takes out his wallet from his back pocket.

“You can’t be near her. You know very well you are a distraction to her.

You will hurt her more than help. You’re a trigger.

” He hands me a check. “Ten thousand dollars to get you situated back in Vegas. Stay away from my daughter.”

Red is all I see. If he wasn’t Rainey’s father, I’d beat his ass to the ground. I toss the check to the floor. My fists curl to the side. “I don’t want your damn money. I know I don’t have shit to show for?—”

“Then you know she doesn’t need a deadbeat.

Did you expect to start a relationship with her and one where she’ll never know the truth that you’re an orphan who’s lived home to home?

You never got adopted for a reason.” His lips twitch.

“I know more about you than you think.” I know he does.

He’s an attorney with resources. He opens his wallet and tosses cash on the counter. He adds. “Take the cash—gas money.”

Anger like no other burst through me. A la chingada .

My veins are visible under the skin. Go to hell.

“Like I said, I. Don’t. Need. Your. Damn money.

” I take two steps closer to him. “I may be broke now, but mark my words. You’ll be eating out of my hands.

I care for Rainey. I’m not just a poor fucker taking advantage of her.

” I’m grateful that Rainey looks nothing like her father.

He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

“I’ll be eating at the palm of your hand?

” He laughs. “I highly doubt that.” He picks up the check off the floor and sets it on the counter.

“If you truly care for her like you say you do, Max, then do what’s best for her.

You know precisely what I’m talking about.

” He taps the counter. “She can never find out. It would destroy her.” He shuts the door behind him, leaving me in complete rage.

I take the three beers I have left in the empty fridge, get in my car, and drive to the hilltop.

In the cluttered glove compartment, I pull out a crinkled joint I had stashed when Rainey and I came up here.

As I light it up and inhale deeply, the sound of thunder echoes above my car.

The rain pounds against the windshield, distorting my vision.

I take another hit and wait for the relaxation to wash over me, hoping it will calm my nerves on this dark and stormy night.

I take a swig of the beer, the acid coats my throat with a fizzle. Adjusting the seat, I push it back to recline while taking a drag. Smoke fills the car, fogging the windows.

Rowan Collins words fester in my mind. You never got adopted.

Did I ever hope a loving family would want me?

Yeah, all the time, but when I reached my teens, it all changed.

I still remember the first time I stepped foot in my first foster family home.

I thought I’d left that kind of pain behind.

Boy, was I wrong. It was only the beginning.

The social worker hands me my bags to carry up the stairs. I can barely carry them, as I’m only nine years old. The two-story home is a little old—not as new as I thought it would be. There are no trees or flowers here, even though my mom loved flowers. We had to drive to Reno for this home.

“It’s going to be okay, Max. This family is lovely,” she assures me. My hands are sweating, and I grip the bags, and my stomach feels like I have rocks in it. I’ve never been away from home.

A woman my mom’s age opens the door. Her black hair is in a bun, and she has pink lipstick. She smiles wide, but she doesn’t give me a good feeling in my tummy.

“Hi, Anna. Is this Max?” the woman asks the case worker.

“Yes, this is sweet little Max.” She gives me a gentle push to go inside.

The house smells like cleaners and smoke. The walls are a cream color, and there are no family photos. My mom had so many pictures of our family. She wanted to have more kids so I could have a baby brother or sister.

The woman kneels close to me. “Max, I’m happy you’re in my home. We are going to have so much fun. The kids are out in the back, but first, let me show you your room.” She smiles and adds, “I’m Lisa.” She reaches for my hand.

I follow behind, watching Mrs. Anna. She gives me a nod. So, I keep following.

The room is small, with only two twin beds and a few toys. Like a remote-control car and some Hot Wheels. From the bedroom window, I see two boys playing—one who seems to be my age and one older.

“You can drop your bags on this bed,” Lisa instructs.

I nod and do as she says. I then stand back, knitting my fingers together. I want to go home. Tears want to drop, but I hold them in.

“The boys outside are John and Lance. You can go out and play.” She walks out of the room toward the living room, where Mrs. Anna is waiting.

I follow, unsure of what I should do.

The minute Mrs. Anna leaves, the smile on Lisa’s face vanishes. “Get your ass outside. What the hell are you looking at?”

My chin trembles, and I walk out the back door.

The boy my age was nice to me, but the older boy not so much.

I was told to stay out of Lisa’s way, that she wasn’t the kindest. She fed us sometimes, or we had to make our own meals.

I lived at that home for seven months, and from that day on, I moved from home to home.

My past fades away with a clap of thunder.

My mind drifts back to Rainey. Reuniting with her has been the highlight of my existence, a memory I will always treasure.

Despite my initial reluctance to see her again, she had a powerful pull on me, like an addictive substance.

With her, I learned to experience emotions and sensations that were previously foreign to me.

Not that I can express them, but I feel a strange tug.

She brought memories I buried, and those that were meant to be kept buried.

Before all this shit happened, I had planned on talking to Rainey about me leaving and us keeping in touch. I meant what I said: she’s mine . All I know is we can’t be together now. Maybe someday.