Read Online Enhanced: Brides of the Kindred 12 (The Brides of the Kindred) by Evangeline Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Evangeline Anderson
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longingly of her bed back
in her little bungalow in Seminole Heights.
It had a memory foam mattress—a gift from her father—one of the few she had
been willing to accept. If Senator Hastings had his way, she would have been
living in a plush condo in Hyde Park instead of a tiny bungalow on the
unfashionable end of Seminole Heights.
Then again, if her adopted father had had his way, she also would have gone
through law school and would be working on making partner at this point. But
Mei-Li hadn’t wanted law school or med school either though her GPA and SAT
scores could have put her on the path to either one. She’d wanted to make a
difference in the lives of children.
Part of her determination had to do with
the way she’d been raised herself. Oh, she hadn’t been abused or neglected—not
in the way some of her clients were, anyway. But her mother had been a high
society butterfly who had adopted her because it was the fashionable thing to
do—rescuing a disadvantaged baby was like having the latest Coach bag in some
circles. Her father, though doting, was often distant and consumed with his
work.
Mei-Li had been raised by a series of
nannies and private tutors and had been sent away to boarding school at the
tender age of twelve. As a consequence, she felt keenly for the children she
watched over. She saw the same pattern over and over—how desperately the
children loved their parents and how little affection and care they were often
shown in return. That was why when she sensed genuine love and concern in a
family, she tried so hard to keep it together.
And that was why, despite being dead on
her feet, she was going to swing by Kristin’s house instead of heading straight
home to bed.
The lights were on in the small, rundown
house in Tampa
Heights
when Mei-Li got there. There was a plaster angel with a chipped face in the
weedy, overgrown front lawn. It looked eerie in the glow of the orange sodium
arc lights which dotted the shabby street. A dirty rattan couch sat on the
sagging front porch and discarded toys were strewn on the steps leading up to
it.
Tampa Heights wasn’t
far from Seminole
Heights—her
own area of town which was perfectly safe. But despite or maybe because of its
proximity to a nicer neighborhood, TH was one of the worst areas of Tampa and Mei-Li was aware
that it wasn’t the best place for her to be out on her own. She parked across
the narrow street and gripped a small canister of pepper spray in one hand as
she watched the shadows moving across the shaded front windows.
She’d been thinking she would have to go
knock on the front door and demand entry to see if Randy Dungston was there but
when she pulled up, she saw that wouldn’t be necessary. There were two cars
parked in the dirt driveway of the grungy little house. One was an old gray
Chevy sedan that looked like it had seen better days. The other was a jacked up
truck with huge tires and purple flames running across its sides. It was
instantly recognizable and Mei-Li knew exactly who the owner was—Randy.
Even if she hadn’t seen the truck—which he
hadn’t even taken the trouble to try and hide—she would have known he was
there. That was because the door to the little house was open, doubtless to let
in the fresh air on a hot Florida
night. However, it also let out the raised voices of two people involved
in a screaming match.
“You fucking bastard! Why are you lying to
me? I know you were with her—I know you were! Janelle saw you—she told
me.”
Mei-Li sighed. That was the voice of Angry
Mom—so named by herself and Claudia because the woman literally never stopped yelling. Mei-Li had never heard her speak in a normal tone of voice,
not even to her children. She shouted and screamed at everyone and everything,
her hatred welling up from an inexhaustible fountain of rage buried deep inside
and spewing over everyone she met.
“God damn it, woman! So what if I was with her? I wouldn’t have to be if
in her little bungalow in Seminole Heights.
It had a memory foam mattress—a gift from her father—one of the few she had
been willing to accept. If Senator Hastings had his way, she would have been
living in a plush condo in Hyde Park instead of a tiny bungalow on the
unfashionable end of Seminole Heights.
Then again, if her adopted father had had his way, she also would have gone
through law school and would be working on making partner at this point. But
Mei-Li hadn’t wanted law school or med school either though her GPA and SAT
scores could have put her on the path to either one. She’d wanted to make a
difference in the lives of children.
Part of her determination had to do with
the way she’d been raised herself. Oh, she hadn’t been abused or neglected—not
in the way some of her clients were, anyway. But her mother had been a high
society butterfly who had adopted her because it was the fashionable thing to
do—rescuing a disadvantaged baby was like having the latest Coach bag in some
circles. Her father, though doting, was often distant and consumed with his
work.
Mei-Li had been raised by a series of
nannies and private tutors and had been sent away to boarding school at the
tender age of twelve. As a consequence, she felt keenly for the children she
watched over. She saw the same pattern over and over—how desperately the
children loved their parents and how little affection and care they were often
shown in return. That was why when she sensed genuine love and concern in a
family, she tried so hard to keep it together.
And that was why, despite being dead on
her feet, she was going to swing by Kristin’s house instead of heading straight
home to bed.
The lights were on in the small, rundown
house in Tampa
Heights
when Mei-Li got there. There was a plaster angel with a chipped face in the
weedy, overgrown front lawn. It looked eerie in the glow of the orange sodium
arc lights which dotted the shabby street. A dirty rattan couch sat on the
sagging front porch and discarded toys were strewn on the steps leading up to
it.
Tampa Heights wasn’t
far from Seminole
Heights—her
own area of town which was perfectly safe. But despite or maybe because of its
proximity to a nicer neighborhood, TH was one of the worst areas of Tampa and Mei-Li was aware
that it wasn’t the best place for her to be out on her own. She parked across
the narrow street and gripped a small canister of pepper spray in one hand as
she watched the shadows moving across the shaded front windows.
She’d been thinking she would have to go
knock on the front door and demand entry to see if Randy Dungston was there but
when she pulled up, she saw that wouldn’t be necessary. There were two cars
parked in the dirt driveway of the grungy little house. One was an old gray
Chevy sedan that looked like it had seen better days. The other was a jacked up
truck with huge tires and purple flames running across its sides. It was
instantly recognizable and Mei-Li knew exactly who the owner was—Randy.
Even if she hadn’t seen the truck—which he
hadn’t even taken the trouble to try and hide—she would have known he was
there. That was because the door to the little house was open, doubtless to let
in the fresh air on a hot Florida
night. However, it also let out the raised voices of two people involved
in a screaming match.
“You fucking bastard! Why are you lying to
me? I know you were with her—I know you were! Janelle saw you—she told
me.”
Mei-Li sighed. That was the voice of Angry
Mom—so named by herself and Claudia because the woman literally never stopped yelling. Mei-Li had never heard her speak in a normal tone of voice,
not even to her children. She shouted and screamed at everyone and everything,
her hatred welling up from an inexhaustible fountain of rage buried deep inside
and spewing over everyone she met.
“God damn it, woman! So what if I was with her? I wouldn’t have to be if
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