by Coll, Lea
“No teasing.”
“I’m not teasing. I’m giving you exactly what you want.”
I couldn’t argue because she was right. Taylor on her knees in between my legs working my cock with her fingers and her tongue. It was heaven. When she finally sucked my cock into her mouth my head fell back.
That’s when she allowed my cock to pop from her mouth. “Eyes on me.”
I slowly opened my eyes and watched as she took me back into her pretty mouth. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to see her body. I wanted to be inside her. “Enough,” I said hauling her up and into my lap. Thankfully she wore a skirt, so I pushed her panties to the side to find her dripping wet for me. “You’re soaking from sucking my cock.”
“Uh huh,” she said her head falling back as she poised herself over my cock and slowly slid down inch by inch. I couldn’t take my eyes off the spot where we were joined. When I was balls deep inside her I palmed her breasts. She was frantically riding my cock now, her moans quickly driving me over the edge.
I circled her clit with my finger and watched her go over the edge with a high-pitched moan. She’d never been so vocal during sex before and I loved it. I tightly gripped her hips taking over for her. I thrust into her a few times hard before emptying myself inside like I’d wanted to do when I first realized I loved her.
With her face in my shoulder and her body slumped over mine, I circled my arms around her and brought her in close. “I love you,” I whispered into her ear.
“I love you too.”
I’d never been so happy—not like this.
Chapter 24
Taylor
That afternoon at work, I quickly came down from the high of being with Gabe, reviewing the case file for an appointment with the social worker who’d interviewed the victims. The sick feeling in my stomach intensified with each picture I viewed. The man had videotaped and photographed multiple children. As many times as I read similar scenarios, I’d never got used to it.
“Taylor?” my secretary, Heather, asked, standing at the door with the social worker.
I stood. “Yes.”
“Your three o’clock is here.” She stepped inside my door and a woman followed. “Angela Bynes.”
Walking to the door, I held my hand out to the woman who looked to be in her forties, gray suit, heels, and shoulder-length brown hair. “Nice to meet you. I’m Taylor Leeds.”
“Nice to meet you as well,” Angela said looking around my office.
Heather returned to her desk outside my office.
“Have a seat.” I gestured to the chairs in front of my desk.
Once seated, Angela pulled her file out of her briefcase.
“How long have you worked in family services?”
“Oh, twenty years now.”
“Do you ever get used to it?” I studied her as she opened the file and rifled through her papers.
Her eyes lifted from her file.
“These cases—” I pointed to the file and the stack on the side of my desk.
She shook her head slowly. “You don’t get used to it and I guess that’s a good thing. If I didn’t feel for these kids—I wouldn’t fight as hard.”
Being a social worker as long as she had, she’d seen far worse things than me. I didn’t know how she did it. I suppressed a shiver, trying to be professional. “Let’s discuss the Hayes file.”
“I’ll discuss my process and then you can ask any questions you want.”
I took a deep breath. I didn’t think I’d ever be ready to hear what she had to say. “Okay.”
She proceeded to talk for about forty-five minutes, outlining each interview she’d done with the children—how they’d been reluctant to talk and her methods to draw information out without leading them in their answers. By the time she fell silent, I knew she was good at what she did. She was patient and thorough. She had to be to ensure the children felt safe enough to reveal the information they did.
This would be my first trial and I wanted to get it right. I wanted to make a good impression. I wanted to prove to Dean I was more than a referral from a good friend, that he’d made the right decision in hiring me. And I wanted justice for these kids as much as Angela did. The better prepared we were, the better case we’d present, and the more likely the defendant would plead or be found guilty.
Our confrontation with Lizzie was still fresh in my mind. Was there something else I could do to help Zach and Lizzie? Since Angela was so experienced would she have some insight? I knew Gabe didn’t want me to talk to anyone but if it was to get advice about what to do, surely that would be helpful. “Can I ask you a question? It’s not about this.” I gestured at my desk. “But a child I’m concerned about?”
Her eyes wary, she said, “Sure.”
“A mother is pressuring her teen to quit school when he turns sixteen. She works evenings allegedly as a waitress, but I don’t know for sure. What I know is that the teen is hungry. There’s rarely food in the fridge and he relies on free meals at school. I know this isn’t what you normally handle, but do you know what help there is out there for the mother or the teen? Can she make him quit school?”
“She can apply for food assistance if she hasn’t already. There’s housing help too.”
“I’m helping her fill out the forms since she’s illiterate and I want to make sure I’m not overlooking anything that’s available to her.”
“I have a checklist for you.” She rifled through her briefcase and pulled out a form. “I carry this with me because I frequently meet families or single parents who have no idea what their options are.”
Scanning the list, I said, “This is perfect. Thank you.” I placed it on the desk in front of me. “Is there anything else I can do? I don’t want him to quit.”
“You could talk to the school. There’s parenting classes you could suggest she take, but I doubt she will.”
“Right.” Lizzie didn’t seem like the type who’d voluntarily take parenting classes.
“If you want social services to step in and what you say is true, they can require her to take classes.”
I shook my head. “Oh, no, I don’t want to do that. I think she’s misguided, but he’s not being abused.”
“Not abuse, but he may be neglected. I’ve seen far worse, but it’s not to say what he’s experiencing isn’t damaging, it is.”
“I agree. I don’t think it rises to the level that family services can help, but I’d like to help on a personal level.”
Her shrewd eyes assessed me. “This teen means something to you.”
“You could say that.” Zach and Gabe were important to me. I’d fight for Zach like I would for Caleb. I knew that without a doubt.
“Help the mother, but don’t alienate her. Don’t make her feel bad for her decisions. Guide her to make better ones without shaming her. That will be your biggest challenge. Her first inclination will be to say you don’t understand her situation.”
Thinking of the way I was brought up, I didn’t. “I don’t but I’m trying to.”
“That’s all you can do—be empathetic and try to help.” Angela stood. “I’d better get going. I have another appointment.”
I stood too. “Thanks for meeting with me. I have the written reports in the file, but I find it’s more helpful to speak in person.”
“I agree but not every attorney feels that way.” Her shoulders slumped like she was weary of her job then she smiled. “You’re going to do great.” As I followed her out of my office and down the hall to the lobby, she continued, “All the good ones worry about whether we can do this job. It’s the ones who aren’t affected we should be worried about.”
“That’s true.” My mind shot to Preston. He never talked about how the job got to him. “And thanks for your advice.”
“You’re a good person, Taylor.”
Was I? I knew I was when it came to my job and my friends, but what about my family? I’d left Caleb when he still needed me. “Thanks.”
Was it enough that I knew I was doing the right thing helping these children—preventing the perpetrators from hurting someone else? Could I live with this sick feeling in my stomach every time I prepped a case? Could I look these kids in the eye at trial and ask them to relive their worst nightmares?
Chapter 25
Gabe
Work provided a sense of purpose I’d never felt before. Isaac trusted in me. He believed in me. A part of me didn’t think I was smart enough to be a manager or a business owner, but so far, things seemed manageable. Plus, I had Isaac and Taylor’s support. It was hard to be down on yourself when everyone else in your life encouraged you. Feeling more confident, I searched online business classes. It was something I was considering but I didn’t mention it to anyone. I worried it would be too much to take on with my additional responsibilities at the bar. Plus, I’d never been particularly good in school.
Friday morning, I was preparing to head to work when there was a knock at the door. Both Taylor and Zach had a key to my apartment, and I didn’t get visitors otherwise, so I had no idea who it could be. Looking through the peephole I saw a woman in a sweater and slacks with a briefcase. I hesitated to open the door but what if she was here about Zach?
“Can I help you?” She could be a salesperson but we never got those in this neighborhood.
She handed her card to me. “I’m Elise Glover, caseworker for Zach Flanagan.”
Her card read Department of Children and Family Services.
My stomach dropped. What if Zach had gotten arrested or into trouble? I’d been worried about me when I should have been worried about him. Had she removed Zach from his mother? “Zach has a caseworker?”
“He does now.” Her lips pursed as she tried to peer past my shoulder into the apartment.
“I don’t understand.” I stood in the doorway, unmoving. Was she here to discuss me being a guardian for him? No, things never work out that easily.
“Can I come in, Mr. Adler?”
How did she know my name? Why was she here? Lizzie accused me of bad intentions toward Zach, but would she actually make a formal accusation without any proof just because I’d expressed concern for him? It was an effective way to get someone to back off your family, and with my record an investigation would be launched. I got the same feeling I did when I had been a teen in trouble. In front of this woman, I felt small, like nothing I said would make a difference. Whatever Ms. Glover thought she knew before she knocked on my door wouldn’t change when I spoke. It never did.
My shoulders dropped as I reluctantly widened the door so she could come in. I didn’t offer her anything to drink because I didn’t want to delay finding out the reason she was here even if I wasn’t going to like it. “Well?” I asked once she sat on the couch and I stayed standing.
“Please sit.” Her mouth was pinched as she stared up at me in disapproval.
“I’d prefer to stand.” Deep down, I was that teenager who bucked authority. I didn’t want to be on equal footing with her when she said what she had to say. I shoved my hands in my pockets so she wouldn’t see how my fingers had formed fists, but I couldn’t relax my tight muscles or stop the muscle from ticking in my jaw. “Is Zach okay?”
“My office received a concerned call about Zach so we’re conducting an investigation—talking to everyone in his life.” She continued to stare pointedly at me as if I was the cause for concern.
I don’t know why I’d thought things could be different in my life. It always came back to this—if there was trouble, I was the cause.
How would she know Zach was in my life unless she talked to Lizzie, Taylor, or Isaac? I didn’t think Isaac would willingly call family services. He hated authority and law enforcement as much as I did. He’d never talk to someone without talking to me first. So that left Lizzie and Taylor and right now, I was leaning toward Lizzie.
“Who called?” I tried to keep my voice nice and even so my anger wouldn’t be evident, but I was livid.
“I can’t divulge that information.” Her face remained impassive as she watched me warily.
I needed to keep my cool. I didn’t have Taylor here to smooth things over and I wanted Ms. Glover to have a good impression of me. I needed to dissuade her from whatever she believed about me. “Why not?”
“It’s an open investigation.”
I started sweating then. My mind went back to my first thought, that Lizzie accused me of sexually abusing Zach. Feeling light-headed and slightly ill, I sat down. What was I going to do if she had? I already had a record of theft, which Taylor said attorneys equate to being untruthful, so my word wasn’t as good as someone who didn’t have the same record. If Lizzie wrongly accused me of something that could be an issue.
No one would believe me when I said I didn’t do anything. Strange men involved in children’s lives were always suspected of something inappropriate. Even if Zach defended me, people would think I’d done something. Why would anyone believe an ex-convict wanted to help a troubled teen?
“I have to interview people he interacts with on a daily basis. That’s all you need to know for now.”
“Okay.”
“How do you know Zach? He mentioned that he talks to you daily.”
So, she had talked to Zach. My only chance was telling her the truth—everything that had happened since I first noticed Zach. Taking a deep breath, I said, “I observed Zach in the apartment building for a while before I ever spoke to him. He always seemed to be alone and when I brought food home with me, he seemed hungry. Initially, I offered him my food and he’d take it. Then I started ordering two meals so I could give him one. I wanted to know more about him and his situation, so I invited him to my apartment to cook for him. I wanted to know why he was always alone, why he was hungry, and where his parents were.”
“You didn’t think to call us?” She’d taken out a notebook at some point while I was talking and took notes.
I laughed bitterly. “If you’d grown up like I did—like Zach did—you’d understand why not. I don’t exactly trust the authorities to do the right thing.” I explained everything I’d learned about Zach’s living situation, how Lizzie was pressuring him to quit school, and how I’d confronted her about it.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Adler.” She stood as if to leave, her face expressionless.
“That’s it?” I stood too, not knowing what to think. If she was accusing me of something wouldn’t she ask more questions? Ask if I’d ever touched him inappropriately? Maybe Lizzie hadn’t said anything.
“That’s all I have for now. I’ll be back if I have more questions.”
My neck felt hot and chilly at the same time, so I rubbed my hand down it trying to erase the bad feeling I had from the encounter.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Adler.”
“Sure.” I couldn’t say the same. I was sure her visit didn’t mean good news—not for me and certainly not for Zach. My mom always warned me that nothing good happened when the government got involved. But I had nothing to hide.
When the door closed behind her, I pulled out my phone, sending Taylor a message.
Gabe:Can you meet up today? Zach is working at Omar’s. Or at least he was supposed to but I didn’t know if the family services worker had removed him or not.
Taylor: Of course.
It was a bit of an odd request because we’d spent every night together. Taylor would be with Zach at my home in the evening or she’d show up at the bar at some point and we’d leave together. She’d seamlessly fit into my life and I didn’t want to think she’d had something to do with this. But she worked with social workers. I had to ask her. I had to find out for sure it wasn’t her because if it was, I didn’t know what I’d do. And I had to do this in person so I could see her face.
I was stressed at work—nervous to talk to Taylor but anxious to see her.<
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“What the fuck’s up with you tonight?” Isaac asked when I checked the clock for what seemed like the hundredth time.
I just shook my head. “Nothing.”
A few minutes later, Taylor finally walked in and Isaac raised his brow and asked, “Trouble in paradise?”
“I’m not sure yet. Can I take a break?” The bar was busy, but we weren’t overwhelmed at the moment. “I need to talk to Taylor.” Whatever was on my face must have convinced him it was urgent because he said, “Okay, but don’t take too long. We’re going to be busy tonight.”
“Thanks.” Then I walked around the bar to greet Taylor.
“Hey, I missed you.” She placed her small hands on my chest and went up on tiptoes to kiss me but I kept it light.
I wanted to respond in kind but the words stuck in my throat. Instead, I said, “We need to talk.” I tried to loosen my jaw but I couldn’t. My body had been strung tight since Ms. Glover flashed that family services card in my face.
Taylor’s eyes filled with concern. “Okay.”
Did she really tell a social worker about Zach and our situation? Would she do something like that? Was I wrong to trust her? Or was I jumping to conclusions? As I followed her back to my office, I watched the gentle sway of her hips and wondered if I was doing the right thing. Was I ruining us by confronting her? Shouldn’t I trust that she would never contact family services? My stomach churned with confusion and anger. I had to know. Once the door clicked shut behind us, Taylor stopped in front of my desk and turned to me.
“Did you talk to someone at family services?”
Taylor’s eyes turned wary and unsure. “I talk to family services as part of my job.”
I didn’t like how she seemed reluctant to say anything else. “Let me be real clear.” My voice was cold and stilted. “Did you talk to family services about Zach?”