Read House Of Payne: Scout for Free Online

would assume we have an eye for many things.” And his eye had been trained to spot the ugly camouflaged like a steel trap beneath the beauty. But as hard as he looked, there was nothing like that hidden inside her. “You still have not told me of your first flower.”
    That dazzling smile of hers popped back into place before she began to wind her way toward the shop’s check-out. “I’d come home from school and found this particular foster mom—she was of the crazy-ass variety—in the middle of a huge wig-out. One of those screaming ones the whole neighborhood can hear, you know?”
    He didn’t know, actually. He was more used to icy silences that filled a gut with dread.
    “Anyway, she was yelling her head off at one of the other kids. Since I didn’t want to catch any stray flak, I took off outside to practice writing my ABCs in the dirt. That’s when I saw it—this amazing splash of color. It was pushing up between a crack in the concrete walk by the house, reaching up to catch the sun’s rays, and it was just…” She put her hand to her heart in what looked to be a genuine fangirl swoon. “Absolutely. Freaking. Perfect .”
    “I can almost see what you would have looked like.” As he covertly took another picture of her, surprise zipped through him when he heard himself speak the thought aloud. “So full of wonder, so full of joy.”
    “So full of ‘ holy crap, what’s that ?’” With a laugh, she dug into her bag with her free hand. “I squatted down next to it, mesmerized by this magical color that didn’t exist in my world—showy, neon yellow that was way better than the color of a school bus or a crayon. Those were the only yellows that I knew, if that makes any sense.”
    “It does.” He took another shot of her as the elderly shopkeeper approached.
    “It had these tiny spiked petals that were so compact it looked like there were about a billion of them, and they were arranged in this symmetrical sunburst pattern that must have been designed by the angels themselves. God, it was beautiful.”
    His eyes narrowed at the description. “Wait, this flower. You don’t mean…”
    “Yep. A dandelion. The most spectacular flower I’d ever seen, or would ever see.” Her grin faded, and with a gentle sound of regret she turned to offer a wave at the approaching woman. “Then Crazy-Ass Foster Mom stormed out, stomped on it just for giggles and hauled me inside to give me hell for not coming when she called. As she dragged me away, I remember looking back toward the walkway at this sad, mangled green and yellow knot of something that had been so perfect only seconds before, but was now so hopelessly ruined.” She shook her head. “I cried myself to sleep that night.”
    As she greeted the shop worker by name—Zelda—and hugged her as if they’d been separated for years, he took another picture. Scout was a miracle, really, to still have such an obvious capacity to love and laugh after that kind of childhood. They’d traveled similar roads, yet they’d turned out so differently. She had come out of it with a deep understanding of how precious beauty was. He, on the other hand, was what he’d been born to be—a monster who wanted to do monstrous things.
    Like find that hideous toad-bitch of a foster parent and blast her off her dandelion-stomping feet for breaking Scout’s heart.
    Or uproot the entire city in search of a dandelion so he could give it to her.
    Or rage at an uncaring world because it had allowed an innocent child to cry devastated tears.
    Instead, when she got her wallet out, all he could do was beat her to it.
    “I got this.”
    “Oh, no, it’s—”
    “Scout.” He gently pushed her hand away, when anyone who knew him would insist there was nothing gentle about him. “I got this.”
    He couldn’t give her dandelions. But maybe hyacinths and carnations would do.
     
     
    “I really need to get these into some water, so I’m not going to stay too long.”