Bruised Knuckles and Empty Lies

Chapter 19

Alex's POV

After a long night of pacing around my room, counting the cracks in the ceiling, and laying on the floor, my self-pity was rudely interrupted by my foster mom unlocking my door and walking in without warning. At this point, I was still laying on the floor, but I sat up as soon as I heard the click of the door being unlocked.

"What on earth are you doing down there?" she asked me, looking both confused and slightly revolted.

"Nothing, ma'am," I replied, trying to unclench my jaw. The last thing I wanted to do was start a fight this early in the morning. As long as they had coffee here, I was happy. I guess we'll see.

"Be dressed and in the kitchen in five minutes for breakfast," my new foster mom told me. She was strangely stoic for someone her age, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. She walked out of my room without closing the door, causing me to groan. I pushed myself off of the floor. A few joints popped at the sudden motion. I crossed the room and closed the door, probably a little too loudly, but I didn't care. Moving back to my bed, I grabbed my bag and started sifting through it. I settled on a pair of skinny jeans and a random t-shirt. No need to impress anyone here. I was only staying for a few days, max.

The second I stepped into the kitchen, I felt like I was in a suburban horror movie. There were the two foster parents, along with two boys. The older one was slightly younger than me, and the other was younger than me by at least 5 years. A chair between my foster mom and the younger boy was empty, so I took it. All of the members of the family were already eating, but I didn't have much of an appetite.

"Can I have my phone back?" I piped up. The silence in the room only grew as the boys stopped eating, smiling at each other like I had just told a joke.

"No phones at the table," my foster father casually mentioned.

"Oh, I'm not hungry. I was hoping to maybe hang out in my room for a while?" I said as more of a question. I was trying my best to behave. The better I am, the better the report I'll get, in case something happens with my actual foster parents.

"You can starve for all I care!"
"Judy, be polite. You've seen her file." What's that supposed to mean?!

My foster mom, Judy, forced a smile in my direction. I met hers with a bored look.

"You can have it after breakfast. Now, eat," Judy told me. Okay, if she isn't gonna respect me, I'm not gonna respect her. I crossed my arms, slouching. The boys looked like they were having a field day, watching me defy her. Why not give them a little entertainment?

My eyes scanned the kitchen. I tried to figure out how to mess with them in a way that I wouldn't get totally annihilated for it.

Bingo. The coffee pot.

If these were the kind of parents that I thought they were, they would have a fit seeing me help myself. I moved with intention, but not too quickly. I wanted to savor their hesitation to say nothing. I had to open up a few different cabinets to find the mugs, ignoring Judy's questions as to what I was doing. I grabbed the coffee pot, looking right at the "picture perfect family" as I poured my mug full.

I made sure to put the coffee pot back in its holder before leaning against the countertop and taking a long drink of my coffee. At this point, the boys were whispering and grinning wildly, only encouraging me to wreak havoc in small ways.

The foster dad stood up, pulling the mug of coffee from my hands and slamming it down on the counter, making me flinch.

"Not so big and tough now, huh?" he mocked me. I stared him down, and he stared right back at me, not backing down until Judy stood up.

"Matthew, take a walk. Alexis, go to your room, now!" Judy yelled pointing to the staircase for emphasis. Unfortunately for her, she pointed right to the home phone, which was sitting unattended on a corner table on my way to the stairs. That gave me an idea.

My foster father, Matthew, broke first, storming off to go pout somewhere. I stomped off toward the stairs, no longer feeling the icy stare of Judy on my neck. It's now or never.

As I passed the table, I discreetly grabbed the phone, sliding it off the table and into the waistband of my pants. Readjusting my shirt, I covered the phone, completely hiding it as I marched up the stairs and into the room they gave me, slamming the door for emphasis. I would have locked it, but the door didn't lock from the inside. Fuck that. It was then that I felt the racing of my heart and the abnormal pace of my breathing. My hands shook as I pulled the phone from my waistband and began dialling the number. I was almost positive I had his number memorized, thank god.

The phone rang a few times, and I started to worry that he wasn't going to pick up.

"Morgan," his voice sounded from the other line. My eyes started to water. "Hello?" he asked after being met with my silence.

I sniffed once before saying, "Hi, Derek."

"Alex, babygirl, is everything okay? How are you doing sweetheart?" I couldn't hold it back anymore. Tears trailed down my cheeks, and I covered my mouth to muffle the sound of me crying.

"I wanna go home," I cried.

"Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" I shook my head before remembering that he couldn't see me.

"No, they didn't, but I hate it here. I miss you." He sighed on the other end.

"I know, babygirl. We're doing all we can to get you home by tonight." After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again. "What do you need, Alex? What can I do for you?"

"I don't know," I whispered. "I don't know."

Author's note: hey guys! I know this was kind of a filler chapter, but I promise there'll be more action in the next one. Love you, and stay safe out there :)