Twisted Deceit (Deceit #3)

Chapter 20

Age 17

“Happy birthday, Koda.”

I grunted as strong arms wrapped around my shoulders.

I still didn’t understand the need to celebrate my birthday. Three years, and it was still weird to be happy about me being alive. Sure, I was okay most of the time, but that didn’t mean Dawn needed to buy a cake that I could make better myself.

To me, it was just another day. I didn’t see that ever changing. Just because I was another year older meant nothing to me. I was still just Koda, as I’ll always be.

Pulling back, Dawn gave me a soft smile that was just for me. “I know you still don’t like to celebrate, but I got you something little.”

I lifted a brow, which was probably not seen over the rest of my glasses.

“Here.” She pulled out a bag that she’d brought in not long ago, sliding it across the counter towards me before backing away and getting some plates out for the cake.

I didn’t think anyone ever thought it was weird to have cake before dinner, but it was the one thing I didn’t mind. Treats before real food was always the best way to go.

Slowly, I pulled the brown gift bag closer before opening it up enough to reach a hand in. Past the white tissue paper, my fingers grasped the edge of a book. Pulling it out fully, I caught the words written on the front.

Cookies and Other Desserts

“Figured you’d enjoy that over more clothes.”

She was right. This, I’d actually use and make something out of it. Apps and online recipes only went so far, and that was after you had to scroll forever to get to the recipe. I didn’t need an article telling me how it tasted or where it came from.

Flipping through the pages, my eyes trying to take in every recipe before going to the next. There were only a hundred pages, each page holding at least one if not two recipes.

“Find a few you’d want to try and we’ll get the ingredients this weekend.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, my gaze still fully on the book. When I realized I spoke, I looked up too quickly, making my head spin. My voice was rough, as it had been the past few weeks when I kept trying to at least mutter a word or two on my own.

“Of course,” Dawn smiled wide, but otherwise didn’t make a comment about my whispered words. “Mrs. Lee would enjoy some treats, too. She can’t stop gushing over the last cookies you made.”

I couldn’t stop the blush that appeared. Having compliments, no matter if it was for the treats I made, or my appearance, it always made me feel funny. My stomach warmed just as much as my cheeks did.

I ducked my head, even though it did nothing to hide me from Dawn’s view.

“I hear her grandkids were even fans. She wanted to know what you did to make oatmeal cookies, not oatmeal.”

Cooking the oats before making them into cookies was the trick, I thought. But that wasn’t something most people did. It made the cookies come out softer and not so dry like so many store-bought ones were.

“She said that the two boys will be here more this summer,” Dawn went on, passing a plate with an almost too big slice of cake towards me. The frosting was a simple white, while the inside was more of a spice cake. Something that wasn’t too sweet for my stomach.

Despite my stomach not agreeing to certain things, I loved to bake. It’s where I found peace in the chaos of my mine. Lately, that’s where Dawn had been finding me when sleep eluded me on long nights.

It wouldn’t matter how many times I had to deal with the consequences, I still ate things that didn’t agree with me. Although, Dawn had figured it out late one night when I was huddled over the toilet, begging for the cramps to leave me be. So now, she tried to control what she bought and limit how much I ate sugary stuff.

If she knew sugary stuff wasn’t the only thing that bothered me…. well, I don’t know what she’d do. In the past, foster families would have told me to starve. The men I served would have force fed me the food that made me sick. Dawn probably would have just told me to not eat as much, and help find better solutions.

Too lost in thought, a piece of cake fell off the fork as the doorbell rang, echoing through the house. Seeing Dawn busy cleaning up the little bit of dishes in the sink, I set my fork down beside the plate before putting my feet on the floor. The warmth of the tile instantly soaked into my soul as I made my way to the front door.

Figuring it was just a neighbor, since that’s who usually stopped by, or Officer Sarah once in a while, I opened the door without checking to see who it was first. Heck, it could have been the social worker even, since she hadn’t been by for a few months. But normally, she’d call a day or two ahead of showing up.

I paused, frozen with my feet to the floor as my eyes took in who was on the other side.

I’d know those eyes anywhere. They have plagued my dreams lately, too.

He didn’t look too much different from the last time I had seen him. The tattoos still decorated his arms, creating art that needed color with the mix of skin and black. The black marking that was wrapped a bit up around his neck was new, though. I wanted to reach out and trace some of the times, wondering how soft his marked skin was. At least that urge was easy to ignore as I blinked.

“Hi.” Jasper smiled; voice quiet as if I were a frightened animal. Given, I probably was. Not an animal, but easily startled. There were reasons I wasn’t outside often when I knew he was next door. “Grams wanted me to come by and give you this. She’d do it herself, but she’s a bit under the weather.”

He held out a store-bought shopping bag. My arms were stuck to my sides, not able to move to reach out to take it from his grasp.

“Happy birthday,” he added.

Thankfully, Dawn came to my rescue, peering around me. “Would you like a piece of cake?” She didn’t give him time to answer before basically ushering him in. “We have plenty.”

I sighed, following Dawn back to the kitchen. Jasper’s steps were loud enough to let me know he was following, too.

Keeping my glare to myself, I took my plate and went to the other side of the counter. The more space between me and anyone was the best way to go.

“So, how old are you?” Jasper asked as Dawn plated him up a slice that was bigger than my own.

I looked at Dawn, hoping she’d just answer for me.

“You can answer that.”

I huffed. But in the next breath, I pulled the notebook that was always left out on the counter towards me before writing down the number.

“I thought you were younger,” Jasper commented. “Seventeen is a big deal, though.”

“He’s always mis-aged. Nothing we can do about it,” Dawn said, like it was an everyday thing. Well, it was. But now, it felt like it was something to be proud of instead of wanting to hide myself away.

There was a time that men wanted me because I looked like a ten-year-old when I was thirteen. Or when I was in fact ten and looked to be seven. I hated it. Now, I had no option but to accept that I’d look younger than I was for the rest of my life.

“Every day is a big deal,” Dawn remarked. “But someone isn’t a huge fan of celebrating anything.”

“That’s okay.” Jasper took a bite of the cake. “Did you make this?”

I shook my head. It wouldn’t be as sweet if I had, even though this one wasn’t too bad.

“Someone shouldn’t make their own cakes on their birthdays,” Dawn almost huffed the response. “Or he certainly would have.”

“Have you had a good day, at least?” Jasper turned his question back to me.

I lifted a shoulder. It was like any other day. I did some laundry, cleaned, read and fell into a zone of documentaries.I didn’t know what else to do, and I wasn’t going to try to go outside my comfort zones when I wasn’t being pushed to do so.

“Is that good or bad?”

I made some sort of grunt sound, shoving a piece of cake into my mouth.

“So, a normal day, I take it?” Then, I nodded. At least this guy understood what I didn’t want to say.“Well, if you find yourself bored at any time, you can come help over at Grams’. There’s so much trash. I need to rent a huge dumpster. I swear, baby boomers keep the most random crap. There was a broken rocking chair from when she was a toddler in the attic.”

“I’m glad I don’t have parents or anything like that I have to be tasked with to clean out,” Dawn shook her head. “I forgot something in the car. I’ll be right back.”

What?

I looked at her, wide eyed, hoping she could read my thoughts right then and there. All she did was give me a small smile before leaving. Leaving me in the kitchen with a man.

My heartbeat too quickly in my chest, and my hands shook badly enough I had to set my plate down on the counter. My appetite for the cake was long gone now.

“I’ve worked with a lot of kids.” Jasper took a seat on the stool I had been sitting on. “I know you aren’t a kid, at least not in the way I’ve been around them. Being a preschool teacher, then also taking on some summer work with helping at a children’s psychologist services offices, I’ve seen a lot of things.” He paused long enough to take another small bite. “I know things, or I can guess pretty darn close to things, on how kids and adults alike react to certain things. I see that you didn’t like Dawn leaving with me still here. And for good reason, but I promise, I won’t hurt you. I’ll never lay a hand on you.”

My breath got caught in my chest as my hands gripped the counter, nails digging into the underside of the thick material.

“And I know that as long as I don’t move too quickly, and if I keep my voice level and calm, you won’t freak out too badly. You’re close to a limit, one I don’t know what the trigger is exactly. Most likely something to do with me. maybe it’s the tattoos, since you’ve been eying them. Or maybe it’s because I’m male. Or maybe it could be my hair color. Or everything or nothing.”

I hated that he was being calm. I hated the fact that my heart was wearing itself out to run out of my chest or to slow down.

“I won’t hurt you,” he went on, letting his eyes land on the plate before him. “Whoever has hurt you should rot in hell. I know that means nothing, least of all for whatever you’ve been through. But I mean it. No one should ever hurt children, no matter the age. Those people, those abusers, shouldn’t be walking this earth freely. I’ve seen so many children hurt in ways that I never wanted to. Some are worse off than others.”

I blinked, forcing the tears to hold off. I had been doing so well, too. I've gone a little over two weeks now without shedding a tear.

Why did he have to see through me? With Dawn, it was expected. But this ink covered man was different.

I didn’t want to be seen. I didn’t want someone to be able to look at me and know the horror of my past. Not when I struggled to move on past it myself.