prologue
This book can be read as a stand-alone. It marks the beginning of a new series. Book 1: Fostering Love, Book 2: Killing Love... more to be determined later. Each book will be based on new characters. This book follows Joey and Bellamy, who are mentioned in another book titled 'Strip. Hit. Slap.' but it's not necessary to read that beforehand.
Thank you to everyone who's read all my books and stuck around for each one. I really appreciate you and all the support.
Warning: This is an erotic romance which includes a sexual relationship between two adoptive brothers. It also includes a large age gap (eight years). But please note that Bellamy's feelings towards Joey are strictly brotherly until he's well over twenty-one.
Prologue: Joey, eight. Bellamy, sixteen.
BELLAMY'S P.O.V
I was sixteen when they brought Joey. My parents had been talking about fostering a child for years, and with me already thinking about college, they both agreed that now was the best time. I had just started my junior year and was looking forward to meeting my new little brother. After having been an only child for so long, it was cool to think that I'd have a sibling. Even if it was only temporary.
On the day that the social worker brought Joey to our place, we all sat together in the living room. My dad had spent hours baking all sorts of pastries, and my mom had made her famous lemonade. The social worker helped herself to some, but Joey didn't have any, even when it was offered to him.
He just sat there silently with his head down. I had never seen an eight-year-old with eyes as sad as his.
At some point, the social worker wanted to speak to my parents in private, so my mom turned to me.
"Bellamy," she smiled. "Why don't you show Joey his new room?"
I nodded and stood, offering Joey my hand. "Come on, Joey."
He stood from the couch, and looked up at me with wide grey eyes full of nervousness. I offered him what I hoped was a kind smile, and he seemed to relax slightly. He placed his small hand in mine, and we made our way up the stairs together.
"This is Mom and Dad's room," I explained, gesturing to the first door, right across the staircase. "It's not the biggest room in the house, but I think they chose it because it's next to the stairs and they wanted to know if I'm sneaking out at night," I stated before lowering my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Between you and me, I slide down the railing, but most of the time I'm just trying to steal some of Dad's freshly-baked cookies."
Joey's lips twitched up into a tiny smile, and I was glad to have gotten rid of some of that sadness from before. I led him down the hallway.
"This is my room," I said, and pushed the door open to reveal my unmade bed, the pile of dirty clothes beside it and a poster that was about to fall off. I cringed, "Yikes. Not a very good first impression. Don't tell Mom... she told me to clean it and I kinda forgot."
Joey brought his index finger up to his lips in a 'shush' sign. I grinned and did the same. I assume he meant that my secret was safe with him. He was a pretty cool kid.
"I think I'm going to like having you around," I said. "You can be my little partner in crime."
He smiled, a wider smile this time, and nodded.
I noticed that he didn't say much, but that was alright. My parents had explained that it might take a while for him to warm up to us, and they reminded me to be patient with him. He was meant to be staying with us for six months, and that was plenty of time for us to become friends.
"Your room is right across from mine," I said, and we turned to look at the door less than six feet away. "You can do the honours."
Joey slowly, hesitantly, released my hand and moved to open his bedroom door. He froze for a moment before stepping inside. He stood in the middle of the room, his grey eyes wide as he took everything in.
The room was painted a pale blue and had a double bed in the corner. The sheets had whales on them, and there was a whale-shaped lamp on the bedside table. There were also shelves around packed with books and new toys. The desk on the other side of the room came with a new tablet that Dad had spent hours child-proofing for Joey.
"Mom and I worked on most of the room," I said. "She's an interior designer. When she heard that you like whales, she was tempted to go overboard, but Dad managed to calm her down before she could turn your room into an aquarium."
Joey said nothing, looking around in awe. I smiled and rushed to grab one of the items off his shelf.
"A gift from me," I said, handing him the air-dry clay kit. "I was told you like making stuff."
His wide eyes grew even bigger, and he began to cry.
"Oh, shit..." I panicked immediately, "Too much? Sorry. I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I-"
Joey put an end to my worries when he hugged me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, his head against my stomach. I reached down, hugging him back while he cried.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you so m-much."
"You're welcome," I smiled, moving my right hand to ruffle his hair, but the ringlets fell right back into place.
Joey pulled back after a moment, his cheeks flushed as he now looked embarrassed.
"It's alright," I reassured him. "A hug a day keeps the blues away: that's what Dad says."
He nodded and looked down at the kit in his hands.
"What are you going to make first?"
He smiled and pointed to the whale lamp.
I chuckled, "Of course."
We went back downstairs after that, and my parents' faces were full of sorrow. I noticed that my mom's eyes were slightly red as if she'd been crying. But they both plastered on smiles, and my dad offered Joey something to eat again.
The kid looked up at me, his grey eyes weary. I nodded, encouraging him to eat something. He turned to my dad and nodded. Dad beamed and proceeded to offer him a plate full of pastries.
Joey returned to his seat beside the social worker and ate silently. We spoke to the lady a little longer before she said her goodbyes to Joey, reminding him to be a good boy and that she'd come check on him weekly. He waved goodbye, and she left after that.
As soon as she was gone, Joey went back to the living room to continue munching on the cookies. He seemed to like the sugar cookies. They were also my favourite.
"Bell," Mom whispered to me. "Let's talk outside while your dad keeps an eye on Joey."
I frowned in confusion, but nodded, and Dad returned to the living room while Mom and I stepped outside onto the porch. She closed the door behind us and looked at me with sad, blue eyes.
"We spoke to the social worker more about Joey's parents. Your dad and I weren't sure how much to tell you, but we think it's best you know so you can avoid triggering him," she said.
I nodded, steeling my nerves because I could tell this wasn't going to be pleasant.
"Joey's dad killed his mom and then shot himself," she whispered. "In front of Joey."
"What...?" I mumbled, feeling horrified and shocked, but also angry. I thought about the poor, innocent kid in the house who'd teared up at the sight of his new bedroom.
"His wife was cheating on him," she sighed. "He found out one day, picked up Joey from school and... and did that."
What kind of sick person would do that? And make their kid watch?
"The police said there were reports of yelling, but they don't know what was said," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "By the time they got on the scene, they found Joey lying next to his mom. She was gone, but he... he just..."
My mom sobbed, and my heart shattered. The thought of this kid clinging to his dead mother...
"He wouldn't tell the cops what was said," she sniffled. "He hasn't spoken since that day. He has a notebook he uses sometimes, but... he's non-verbal."
I frowned at that. I had heard Joey speak in the room, although briefly. He had thanked me.
I wondered whether or not I should tell my mom, but I didn't want her to freak out. I figured that it was a one-time thing or that, if Joey had spoken to me, it was because he felt comfortable around me for some reason.
I glanced into the house through the window and saw that Joey was smiling while my dad was busy dancing around the living room. I decided in that moment that I'd do anything to protect that kid.
It didn't even take six months.
After the third week of him living with us, I spoke to my parents. They happily agreed, and we spoke to Joey. He was over the moon. They got the permission to adopt him two months later.
He was my brother, and I'd do anything to keep him safe.
