Forgetting August (Lost & Found) Read Online Free Page B

grasped the cool air. Nothing else. My mighty bridge was where it always was, stable and secure in the water beyond.
    I’d been coming to this spot since I was a tattered little girl, moving from one foster home to another, wondering when my real mom and dad were finally going to rescue me from the hellhole of a life I’d become accustomed to. I wondered how many foster kids secretly watched Annie late at night, hoping they’d be just like that little redheaded songstress, only to find out that dreams like that never happened outside of the movies, and real life heroes are never what you expect them to be.
    I guess at some point I could have figured out why I’d been placed in foster care, but after so many years of being considered a problem or a paycheck to others, I stopped caring. That Annie -like hope eventually leaks out like dirty car oil and all you’re left with is remorse; remorse and regret for the life you could have had if your real parents had been someone else. Someone kind and loving—someone better.
    I’d thought my someone better was August. Turned out he was just another version of something even worse.
    *  *  *
    I met August when I was eighteen. I stumbled into a nightclub — I was too young to be drinking—too young to be doing a lot of things that night—and when I saw him, he was like the knight in shining armor I’d never had.
    Or at least what I’d always envisioned one to be.
    He was four years my senior, and at the time he’d seemed so mature and sophisticated. Twenty-two was old enough to drink legally and walk into hotels without a second glance.
    It was love at first sight. For both of us. From that singular moment, as the bass boomed in the club and we took our first dance together, we became inseparable.
    I never had a mother growing up. Or a big sister or brother. Sometimes kids are lucky and find a good foster family in it for the real reasons.
    I wasn’t one of those kids.
    I did all right by myself, and had a good head on my shoulders—most of the time—but there was never anyone around to tell me that you should be consumed by love, not the other way around.
    Within months of meeting August Kincaid, I was consumed. So consumed, I couldn’t remember where he began and I ended. He became the family I never had, the lover I’d always dreamed of and the friend I’d longed for. He was my everything. He took care of me and made me feel safe. He never made me feel trashy or let my shitty past define me. He was all I’d ever wanted, and soon I couldn’t remember what life had been like without him.
    We could have floated away into our perfect fairy-tale love story and that would have been the end. The newspapers could have printed our perfect wedding announcement and everything would have been wrapped up in a neat tidy red bow.
    But nothing having to do with me is ever neat. Or tidy.
    And that’s where my fairy tale derailed and I found myself living something closer to a nightmare.
    Several years into our romance, August became very successful in business—very quickly. Whenever I asked what he did he always just smiled, patted me on the head, and answered with something vague and ambiguous.
    “I’m a stockbroker—you know that,” he’d said.
    But part of me worried that whatever “business” he’d become involved in was illegal or at least not legit. I should have listened to that part more—she’s one smart bitch.
    With the addition of wealth he began to change. He became more possessive, more clingy and domineering. A sideways glance at a party and suddenly I would be pulled into an empty room and fucked ten different ways just to be sure I understood who owned me. If another man looked at me, I was immediately taken home, like an errant child.
    My fairy tale became a nightmare and I lived in a constant state of fear. Each and every day, his behavior worsened. It was as if success had made him crazy—pushing him into some sort of manic behavior where he