Old Ink (Get Ink'd #3) - Ali Lyda Page 0,46
parking lot. Despite the experience ultimately being a good one, gaining some distance from the space helped me clear out anxiety to make room for the ideas that were beginning to spin.
“Yeah. Him and a couple of other guys. I had a mentor once, and Dane and Javi have spoken extensively to me about theirs. It led me to this conclusion that if one person could actually invest in a kid’s life, then it was worth the time and effort to help them out. I’m surrounded by incredible men who just needed someone to believe in them—yourself included.”
What would my life have been like if I’d had a mentor in juvie? Hell, if I’d had one before I’d ever been sent? Until Dane and Christian, it’d felt like the only people who had my back were my crew from the streets. But a mentor was so much more than someone who had your back—it was someone who opened doors, who lifted up, and who offered a safe place to return to when shit got hard. If I’d had that earlier on...
My whole body seemed to light up with lightning, the quickfire jolt punching through me. It was an “aha” moment like none I’d ever had. Because while I liked the idea of social work, I thought that there needed to be more to it. Something that made my connections more meaningful. And it would only take a little while longer to make it happen.
“Well, fuck, Reagan. You’ve turned into a super sexy, redheaded muse.” The adrenaline rush of self-discovery also had the side effect of triggering a major horn-dog reaction in me.
His deep chuckle made me shiver. “Have I?”
“Definitely. I wasn’t wrong to pursue social work. But I think I’m going to add a criminal justice minor. It’ll tack on another year, but will allow me to better serve the kids I want to help. And...I think I want to get a master’s as well, with a focus on preparation for release and post-release work. The thing is, I had a mentor, too. It was Christian, but I’d already been through the system once. If I hadn’t tried to rob Get Ink’d, I’d probably be in jail now because I definitely would’ve robbed somewhere else, and I would’ve gotten caught at some point. It was luck.”
“Is it strange that I suddenly find myself grateful that you and your friends tried to rob my business?”
We both laughed and it eased me into the next part of my thought train. “I hated it in the center, but that was because I never had anyone looking out for me. I want to get enough education to arm myself that when I go in there, I can actually help kids see a life beyond the streets. But with, like, real options and follow-ups.”
It felt good to know that my heart had been in the right place when I’d started school...I’d just needed some time, distance, and—thanks to Reagan—a well-timed experience to make all of my ideas come together into something I could see. Social work would have gotten me where I needed to be in some ways—but I felt strongly now that it wouldn’t help me educate kids on their rights and on how to make the best of a system that wasn’t always fair.
“That sounds fantastic,” Reagan said. “Perfect, really. You’ll be able to connect with juvenile offenders on a real level. But you’re right—we don’t offer enough opportunities for after, and that means we aren’t really helping kids. And I can’t hire everyone, as much as I’d love to.”
I was buzzing in my seat, amped from our talk, and Reagan’s energy seemed to be mirroring my own. I felt it pulsing from him, and it was quickly shifting from excitement to excitement. My balls grew heavy with anticipation, and I gripped the door handle to keep from kneading myself.
We drove out of the bad part of down, each passing block lifting a layer of difficult memories and emotions from me.
“So what now?” I asked, not particularly eager to go home. I was riding the high that came from something huge clicking into place, and it felt worthy of celebration.
Reagan must have thought so, too. “You’re the one with the big moment. You choose. Anything is on the table.”
His words went straight to my cock. It might not be an offer for more. But holy fuck, I wanted him all over me.
“How about your place?” I tried to keep my voice neutral and