Out Running the Alpha

The Beginning

"Come on, Brit, how bad can it be," Brandon said as we packed our few belongings into a garbage bag. 

"Oh, Gee Bran remember the first fifteen years of wonderful parental guidance we received," I said bitterly as I shoved into my trash bag. I hated this part of moving to another place. Since we didn't have suitcases, my brother and I had to use trash bags to move our belongings. It always made me feel like I was no better than the trash that would have generally gone into these bags.

"Yeah, but we can't keep going on like this Brit. This is the fifth foster home that we've been in. If we'd been kicked out of this home, then we would have had to stay in a group home or worse," Bran sighed, raking a large hand through his tousled blonde hair. Brandon was my twin brother and the only person left in this world that I cared about.

I wanted to point out that it was his fault that we'd been kicked out. Each time we moved in with a new foster family, things would start out fine, and the Brandon would fight with the other kids in the house or at school, but I knew that mentioning that wouldn't help anything now. I loved my brother, but he was a hothead who never seemed to mesh well with other kids. I couldn't recall one person who Brandon had been friends with since we'd been five.

Instead, I chose to point out that the car that had just pulled up outside the group home we were currently staying in was probably the social worker who was here to take us to our new home. Brandon grabbed my bag, carrying it out the front door; I followed, not knowing whether to admire Bran's optimism or to condemn him for it. I was tired of going from Foster home to foster home.

This time, however, the social worker had found a man who was interested in adopting Brandon and I. Personally, I was suspicious. What person wanted to adopt two damaged teenagers who they'd never met. However, I doubted this man's motives for adoption were questioned, especially because of our past. Brandon and I were what social services considered a problem case, so I'm sure the social worker assigned to our case was thrilled to finally have us off her hands.

The sun gleamed on a black suburban where the poor tired-looking woman from child services who had been assigned our case along was standing. Next to her was a handsome looking man in his late twenties or early thirties. He didn't even look like he was breaking a sweat in the heat. Wiping the sweat off my brow, I shot a questioning look over at Brandon, who just shrugged back. Was this the guy who seriously wanted to adopt two teenagers who on paper were basically defective? I mean, he was probably only ten or so years older than us. Shouldn't a guy like him be adopting some poor kid from China if he wanted to start a family from adoption?

The social worker, Karen, gave us a tentative smile as she saw us. She was one of the better caseworkers that we'd had over the years, but I could tell that our case had taken a toll on her. 

"Brandon, Britney, this is Mr. Liddell. He's the gentleman who was nice enough to take you in," She said warmly, probably glad to have us out of her hair.Mr. Liddell was tall with brown hair, sharp features, and a surprising amount of muscle. This did not look like a man who was about to take on two troubled teenagers.

"Please call me Bennett, at least until we get to know each other better," The man said in a sultry southern drawl.

"Please to meet you, Bennett," Bran said, smiling warmly at him. "I'm Brandon, but my sister calls me Bran. And this is my sister Britney or Brit". I tried to hide my surprise at Bran's instant ease with this stranger. I usually was the one who had to play nice with the new foster families, but Bran seemed to like Mr. Liddell more than pretty much everyone we'd met except for me.

"Britney," I pursed my lips skeptically, my lips at him. Bran shot me a look that said behave. I glared at him, who was he to tell me to behave. He was the reason we were in this situation in the first place. Something about Mr. Lidell set my teeth on edge. Maybe it was the instant familiarity between him and Bran or how odd it was for someone like him to adopt two random teenagers, but I didn't trust this man.