Broken Wings (Dark Legacy #1)

I was alone.

And it was now time to find out exactly what that meant for me.





*



“It’s two months until your eighteenth birthday,” the social worker said, leaning forward so I got a decent view of the cleavage straining against her white button down. “We planned on putting you into a group home here, so you could finish up your senior year, but … something else has come up.”

That got my attention, because I had a feeling things didn’t usually “come up” for almost-eighteen-year-old orphans.

“Did you know you were adopted?” She was blunt, those icy blue eyes seemed to have seen too much already. Probably jaded from her job, and I didn’t blame her.

I adjusted my broken arm then, trying to ease the mild discomfort it still caused me. “Yes, my parents told me when I was younger, but it made no difference to me. Blood or not. They were my family.”

The ache in my chest started to strangle the breath in my lungs, and I gritted my teeth, making a conscious mental effort to shove my emotions aside.

The stages of grief could kiss my ass, because there was no way I was ever getting past this pain and anger. I couldn’t deal with their deaths, I just couldn’t. However, I’d become an expert at compartmentalizing when needed, so I breathed in and out for a moment, then I was able to function again.

She watched me closely, and it wasn’t like she enjoyed my pain exactly, but she did seem fascinated by the way I’d pulled myself together.

“So this thing that came up,” I distracted her from whatever bullshit brewed in her mind. I was not up to being shrinked today, even if this chick did hold my fate in her hands.

“Your birth parents have come forward,” she announced happily, and then she paused like she was waiting for me to cheer.

I leaned into her, narrowing my eyes as I did, fingernails digging into the arm of my chair so I didn’t punch her in the nose. “You talking about the people who threw me away as a child? The ones who gave so little fucks about me, that I’ve never even heard from them once in seventeen years?”

Her smile faltered. “I don’t think you understand how wonderful an opportunity this is. They’re wealthy, very wealthy. You’ll have a proper home. Go to a top school. This is the chance for you to finish out your year with a bang and go to college. Your future will be set.”

If I could have stormed out, I would have, but I still wasn’t completely recovered from my injuries, and it would have taken me far too long to get to my feet. Crossing my arms as best I could with the cast, I met her gaze with my own. “No.”

She blinked, and unlike me, she easily rose to her feet. “What do you mean, no?”

Fuck it. I dragged myself up. “I mean that I will not be going with those assholes. Send me to the group home.”

It was starting to hit me now just how odd this all was. My adoption had been closed, which meant no birth parents involved at all. My mom told me they had no idea who they were, and they’d even tried to find out at one point because of some medical issues. So how the hell were the DNA donors strolling back into my life now? How did they even know my mom and dad were de … gone?

“How rich did you say they are?”

My random question didn’t take her by surprise. I guess she thought everyone was only interested in money, but that wasn’t the reason I’d asked. The way her eyes lit up told me all I needed to know about who was really paying her salary. Fucking everyone could be bought these days.

“Rich enough that you’ve probably seen their names on the Forbes list.”

Right. Well, that explained how they’d found me. They had enough money to keep tabs on anyone. My beaten up body ached again, so I lowered myself back down, and tried to think this through clearly. “Do I get a choice here at all?” I asked. “And … why would people … rich people throw me away in the first place and then want me back?”

Something wasn’t adding up here. This CPS chick was clearly taking bribes but to what fucking end? Why would my bio-parents suddenly want me back?

She nervously shuffled some papers before finally meeting my eyes. “Unfortunately, you have no choice. You’ve already been signed over to them, and they’ll be here in…” Checking her watch, her eyes lifted to the door behind me. “Five minutes.” It didn’t escape my notice she’d only answered my first question. She probably had no idea why I hadn’t been wanted, but it had all worked out for the best anyway. I have amazing parents who love me and that is worth more than all the money in the world.

Had. Past tense. I had amazing parents. Now … now I was alone.

Her estimation of an arrival time proved a little off, because the door swung open. I turned my head to find a woman framed in the doorway. If I’d had any doubt she was my birth mother, it was all swept away in that moment. She looked like my older sister: the same bright blue eyes most people thought were contacts, and wavy dark hair. She’d clearly learned how to tame hers, or maybe it was the rich person hairdresser she no doubt went to—mine was always a mess of unruly curls. She stood about my height, five foot nine, but would have been shorter if hers wasn’t jacked up by four inch heels. Very shiny. Very expensive looking black heels with red soles.

“Is she ready?”

Not even a word to me, the cold question was directed right over my head.

The lady, whose name I couldn’t remember, started to fidget nervously. “Oh, yes, Catherine, she’s ready on our end. Her belongings were packed up and are being held downstairs.”

“It’s Mrs. Deboise,” Catherine said in that same icy tone. I made a mental note to always call her Catherine, because she was a stuck up bitch. Mrs. Deboise … seriously...

Deboise…

As in Deboise banking? No freakin’ way! The Forbes thing made even more sense because Deboise was a huge, worldwide bank, originating in Europe. Or at least that’s what their ads said on television.

I’d been staring at the impressive shoes again, and when I lifted my head, I was disconcerted to find impassive blue eyes on me.

“Let’s go,” she said shortly.

I remained seated, continuing to stare at her. She let out a little huff. “I don’t have all day, if you’re going to be difficult about it, let’s get that out of the way so we can make our flight.”

My heart stuttered, and I swung back to the child services chick. “Where am I going exactly?”

I had no idea why I’d assumed this bitch lived in New Jersey too, but I should have guessed that wasn’t the case.

Papers shuffled again, and I was five seconds from reaching across and swiping all of her shit right off the desk, when the corrupt CPS worker spoke. “I believe Mrs. Deboise lives in upstate New York.”

Of course she did, probably had a huge estate out there.

“That’s only a few hours away, why are we flying there?” My brow creased in a confused frown. Shit wasn’t adding up.

“I’m a busy woman,” the older version of myself snapped back, not even raising her face from her phone for a second. God forbid she want to spend a couple of hours getting to know the daughter she threw out like trash.

Whatever, at least I wasn’t moving too far away if I ever needed to escape back to Dante. And speaking of…

“I need to let my friend know what’s happening to me, I don’t want him to worry.” I had no idea why I directed that statement to child services. They were not my guardians, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak to the ice queen directly. She was actually scarily intimidating, and I felt zero comfort around her.

Nevertheless, it was Catherine who responded to me.