Clarity - Nicole Dykes Page 0,17
painfully familiar with. I lead Bree there, and we sit for all of ten minutes before Morgan summons me to her, leaving Bree to sit and flip through magazines.
“So, who are you to Ms. Prescott?”
“No one. She just ran into my tattoo shop, asking for my help.”
She looks over at Bree and then back at me, and I don’t like where this is headed already. “Aubrey was placed with the Herringtons a few months ago. They are an upstanding family. Their income is high above the requirements. The mother stays at home. They have two young children. They are more than capable of being her foster parents. They’ve been doing this for about five years, and there have been zero complaints.”
My eyes move to Bree sitting there all alone, her head down, and then I turn back to Morgan, my teeth gritted. “So money. They have money, and they can do whatever they want to that kid.”
She looks horrified. “No, of course not, but there have been no complaints.”
“So he makes sure they’re nice and afraid of him. It’s not really hard to do with kids that have nothing.”
“And how do you know that?” She’s looking at me like I'm the predator. Because I'm rough around the edges in jeans and a t-shirt with tattoos. It’s a lot easier to see me that way than the man in the expensive suit.
“Because I lived it.”
She studies me and then sighs. “We will look into it.”
“Bullshit.”
There’s that scared look again. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You have, what, a hundred kids you look after?” She doesn’t argue. I know the system is flooded, especially in the big cities. “She’s one. Your investigations are bullshit.”
She swallows, and I watch her throat as she gulps with fear. “We’ll investigate this. If she’s scared, we won’t make her go back with him yet.”
“Yet.” I look back over at Bree, who is looking up now, meeting my eyes in a silent prayer. I turn back to Morgan. “She can stay with me.”
“What?” She looks shocked.
“She can stay with me until you can find her somewhere safe.”
She shakes her head adamantly. “No. It doesn’t work like that, and if you’ve been in the system before, you know that.”
“Oh yeah, I know.” It’s almost a growl. “What do I need to do? File some paperwork?”
“Yes, you would most certainly need to file paperwork and prove employment.” I can see the way she’s looking at me. She doesn’t believe I have any employment.
“I own my own business.” Not a lie, although with Chris fronting the bill, it doesn’t feel like the truth either.
“That’s impressive.” And she clearly didn’t expect it. Gillian might trust her, but I don’t. I can feel the judgment. “How old are you?”
“My age matters?”
“Yes.” She nods without hesitation.
“Twenty-three.”
Her lips form a thin line, and I know it seems too young, even though I feel forty. “I see. Are you married?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
She acts like she’s trying with me but I'm on her last nerve. “Listen, you’re a young, single man wanting a young unrelated female to move in with you. Do you know how that sounds?”
“I would never fucking touch her.” I’m struggling to stay calm. Even the subtle hint that I might be interested in her for anything other than to protect her makes me sick to my stomach.
“But we can’t place her with you. You have to understand that, right?”
“Just give me the fucking paperwork. I’ll do the rest.”
She huffs and searches through her desk. “It will take days to process, or weeks.” I look over at Bree, knowing she doesn’t have weeks. She hands me papers, and I grasp them tightly in my hands. “She’ll have to stay in an approved temporary home.”
“But not with that fucker?”
She flinches at my language. You’d think she’d be used to it by now, working with foster kids and all. “No. If she’s afraid of him, we will investigate.”
I only have a couple of days. I know it by the way she’s talking. She wants to get Bree back into the so-called “good home.” The one she feels is one of her easy cases in a clean, upstanding neighborhood.
“I’ll be back.”
She nods her head solemnly as I walk away from her and explain the situation to Bree. The kid doesn’t cry. We don’t cry. We don’t show weakness.
“I’ll be back for you, Bree.”
She doesn’t believe me. I get it.
I leave her with my promise, but I know it means nothing until the