Katie had been with the Doles for three months after having to be removed from her birth family after her mother was arrested for assaulting her boyfriend. Katie’s father had been in prison for most of her life and her older brother was a drug dealer who had been living in the trailer with her and her mom. I suspected that he would soon be joining his father in jail. The worst of it was that Katie had been separated from her younger sister, Sabrina. Something that I was going to rectify very soon.
I had done everything I could to prevent it from happening, but my superiors had completely ignored me, brushing the whole situation off since it was something we saw on too regular of an occasion. It was one of my biggest grievances with the system—splitting siblings up. Katie and Sabrina needed each other, they relied on each other, especially since they were only two years apart in age.
And I couldn’t tell if this withdrawn behavior from Katie was because she missed her sister or if it was something else. Something caused by the Doles perhaps. Because she hadn’t been this detached when I’d first put her there.
“Do you know how Sabrina is doing?” she asked, finally looking up at me with hope in her eyes.
I didn’t cry easily anymore, having done plenty of it in my younger years. Plus, you had to get a handle on that early on in this kind of job or you wouldn’t make it. But hell…seeing that hopeful look in a child who didn’t have much to begin with was enough to crack even the coldest of hearts. Even more so when you had to face the fact that you were failing to offer them any hope in return.
“Last time I heard, she’s liking the family she’s with,” I said gently, smiling. “I think she’s even learning piano.” Against my recommendation and despite my pleas, Sabrina had been assigned to a different case worker, so I had to contact them just to get information to pass onto Katie.
Katie’s lips curled up in a grin, although her eyes remained sad. “She always wanted to learn how to play.”
“How about you, honey? Do you like Tina? And Ed? What about Lacey and Bobby?” The other two children in the house were five and eight respectively, making Katie the oldest.
“Lacey cries a lot and Bobby is having problems wetting the bed, but I like them. They like when I read to them before bedtime.”
“And Tina and Ed?” I prompted.
She stared me down, the look shooting right through me. If I hadn’t known better, I would have said that I’d been staring at myself when I was that age. “Tina’s fine. She’s always tired because she works a lot but she’s nice to me.” She hesitated before continuing. “Ed’s grumpy all the time but Tina says it’s because the work he does hurts his back.”
He worked for a construction company so that fit, but I’d sensed a bit of a temper in him from the beginning and that concerned me. He’d been smart enough to hide it around me but it was my job to seek out problems and I paid attention.
“But is he nice to you too? Does he yell at you or anything?”
Her eyes darted down to her shoes, but when she spoke her voice was even. “No. He yells at Tina sometimes but not really at us. He usually leaves us alone.”
There was something in that word usually that ate at me. “Does he just yell at Tina or does he do more?” Her behavior downstairs had been suggestive of a woman who was fearful of her husband, or at least of upsetting him.
“Just yells from what I’ve seen,” she responded quietly. “Do you think I could see Sabrina soon?”
Little tiny men in my chest just kept hammering away at my heart as I listened to her broken voice. “I’m working on it, honey. I’ll make that happen soon, okay?”
Another thing they tell you as a social worker is to never make promises because you could never guarantee anything. You lose trust with your “client” if you break those promises, not to mention it hinders their healing process.
But that was a promise I was determined to keep.
I talked to Katie for a few more minutes, reminding her that she could call me anytime day or night if she needed to talk. Then, I left her there reading, wishing I could take her home with me. That was probably the hardest part of the whole damn job. Leaving a child in the care of people you didn’t know very well, unaware of what sort of environment you were truly leaving them in. All families who wanted to be foster parents had to go through a rigorous application process—vetted thoroughly—so most red flags were usually spotted right away. But there were always some people who snuck through with lies or practiced acts, their true nature manifesting itself later on.
Be prepared for deception. That was another rule they taught you. It was by no means a rule of thumb because the majority of these families were good, kind people who wanted to help these children out of the goodness of their hearts by opening up their loving homes to them. The ones they tell you to watch out for are the low lives who are after the monthly stipends or other things nobody ever wanted to consider. Those are the ones who try to deceive you at every turn, and you had to keep your eyes open for the tells.
After going through the regular speech with Tina and bidding her goodbye, I walked down the dirt driveway to my car, just as Ed Dole was pulling his beater truck right next to me. The man was tall and pretty big due to his years in construction. He was also nothing special to look at and had always given me the creeps. His dark eyes were too leering when they looked at me, his body language communicating that he was used to having people cow down to him.
Never going to happen, buddy.
“Hello, Miss Tucker,” he said, amusement in his voice.
I gave a short nod. “Good afternoon, Mr. Dole.”
“Did I miss our meeting?” His eyes trailed down my body in a brazen once over, subtly licking his lips. “I’m disappointed.”
I bet he was. “I spoke with your wife and Katie. I’ll catch up with you next time.”
He crudely adjusted the belt of his jeans and shifted his feet. “I can’t wait.”
He was trying to get a reaction out of me, purposely attempting to rile me up. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. “Have a nice day, Mr. Dole.”
I got in my car and shut the door while he stared after me for just a second before going inside the house. The man made me feel like I needed to take a shower. I fought with my subconscious as I stared at the modest two-story house with faded paint and an overgrown lawn. It wasn’t a complete heap, but you could tell they didn’t exactly put extra care into their place either.
I abhorred the thought of leaving Katie there, allowing her to be subjected to Ed’s crude nature, but there was nothing I could do about it at the moment. I had no cause nor evidence of the Doles being unfit foster parents, so I couldn’t remove Katie from their care.
I didn’t always have cases like this that were so hard to deal with and accept. Some of mine required minimal attention and others just demanded more time in the form of tedious paperwork or court appearances. They weren’t all this emotionally debilitating. They didn’t all keep me up at night. They didn’t all make me want to go rogue and kidnap the child just so I could ensure they were safe.
I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel for several seconds, taking deep, calming breaths.
The Smashing Pumpkins definitely had it right. The world is a vampire. Sent to drain. And drain.
….and drain.
##
I walked through the entrance to Riverside Park later that evening and scanned the grassy area full of people for my brother. A thick, tattooed arm flew up in the air and started waving at me, immediately putting a smile on my face. It was hard to miss his gigantic form, and from what I could see, most of the young women near him also took notice. He knew how much female attention he garnered everywhere he went and being the playboy that he was, he reveled in it. I dodged families and crawling babies, carefully making my way over with my blanket in tow.
“About time you got here,” Pierce said, “I almost ate all the fried chicken.”
I spread out the blanket next to his and waste
d no time reaching for a leg out of the giant box straddling the two blankets. I was starving. “Well, you know what happens when Sage goes hungry.”
He snorted and shook his head at me. “Yeah, the bear comes out. Trust me, I’ve learned my lesson to never mess with a hungry Sage.”
“So, your kind can be taught,” I quipped. “It’s amazing.”
He lightly shoved me as he reached for a plastic cup. “Keep it up and I won’t share the sweet tea.”
I took the cup gratefully, humming in thanks. “Ah, you know me too well.”
Pierce was my foster brother from the last home I was ever placed in while I was part of the system, but he was as much family to me as any blood brother could be. I’d met him when I was thirteen—he was fourteen—and a shell of my former self. I didn’t talk to many people back then, preferring to spend my time in quiet isolation, which definitely didn’t bode well for making friends. Pierce had sensed all of this in me but didn’t relent in his pursuit of getting to know me. Whether he had sensed a desperate longing in me or it was just his protective instincts reaching out, I wasn’t sure what had caused him to not give up on me.
But I was grateful for it every day.
He was the first and only person I’d ever really opened up to about my experiences in my first foster home, aside from the therapists I’d had over the years. Pierce knew about Roy, the foster father from hell, and being a former foster child himself, he understood better than anyone on the planet how the years I’d spent in that house had shaped me in every way. He knew why I’d become a social worker, why I had anger issues, why my ex-husband Scott and I had divorced, and why I chose to express myself in the ways that I did.
The one thing Pierce didn’t know about me was that I had a particular pension for sexual encounters of a…rougher nature. That was something that just cut too deep and I’d never been able to discuss it with him. I knew he wouldn’t think I was a freak—he never would—but he had essentially become my brother, and it would be too weird to share something so intimate and personal with him.
The reasons behind such preferences would probably forever stay my secret and mine alone.
“Where’s the Plymouth, by the way?” he mumbled around a mouthful of chicken. “I noticed you weren’t driving it.”
I tossed a napkin at him. “Geez, you’re such an animal. It’s called swallowing before speaking.”
He obnoxiously opened his mouth wide, displaying the chewed up chicken it was full of. “Gross.”
He laughed after he finally swallowed it. And because he was a smartass, he sat up perfectly straight and gingerly placed his napkin across his lap. Then reaching into the box for more chicken, he lifted his pinkie finger as he brought the food to his mouth, taking small bites, dabbing his mouth after each one. “Better?” he asked.
“Are you finished?”
His shoulders slumped as he fell back into his more comfortable position. “I think so. The Plymouth?”
“Oh, it broke down on me the other day. I had to walk down the road to a shop and they’re looking at it now. It might be a busted camshaft.”
“That sucks,” he sympathized. “Do they know what they’re doing at this place? I don’t want you to get hosed on the job. What’s the name of it?”
Mason’s face sprang to my mind, something that had occurred a lot the past two days. “Cruz Custom Cars, over near Pratt and Broadway.”
He thought about it for a second and then his eyes sparked in recognition. “Oh, yeah. I know that place. My buddy had some design work done there on his bike. They did an awesome job on it, and he said their rates were reasonable.”
“The guy I dealt with seemed legit,” I said. “He knew what he was talking about. And he was nice.” Bad move. I knew it the moment I said it.
I felt Pierce staring at my profile, but I refused to look at him. “Nice, huh? I’ll just bet he was. And were you, ahem,” he teased, clearing his throat suggestively, “nice back?”
“Oh, let it go,” I scoffed, which made him burst out laughing. “I just meant that he wasn’t treating me like a naïve woman who didn’t have a clue about cars.”
He sucked in a breath, clutching his stomach. “Yeah, because I’m sure you told him otherwise. And I would have loved to have seen the expression on his face when you started spewing about exhaust valves and four-cylinder engines.”
A smile played on my lips as I recalled Mason’s shocked face, mouth hanging ajar. “That was pretty good.” I was proud that I had impressed him.
“Well, you know if you need help with the money for the repairs, you can always ask,” he said in a more sober tone. I looked over at him, my eyes softening. He was always protecting me, taking care of me in his own ways. Had been since I was thirteen. I loved him so much. “I know you’ve got your pride,” he added, “but there’s nothing wrong with asking for help sometimes. You work harder than anyone I know, but these things just come up unexpectedly, so it’s no problem if you need me to spot you.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I know. I should be fine, but I’ll let you know if that changes.”
He smiled affectionately at me and shook his head. “Watch it in public with that shit or the single women around here are going to think you’re my girlfriend.”
I laughed as I spread my legs out in front of me. “Are you saying you use our dates as a tool to pick up women? I think I’m hurt.”
He huffed and leaned to the side, propping himself on his elbow. “Please. You know you’ve been my patsy since you were a kid. Women love the sweet older brother types. Makes them think you’re going to be a good father.”
“Too bad they don’t know you never want children.” I understood his reasons, but I also knew that Pierce would make an amazing father, even if he didn’t think so.
“Yep, too bad. It doesn’t usually matter, though. They get one look at my apartment and lose all hope immediately.”
We talked for a few more minutes and quieted when the park lamps began to dim, signaling the start of the movie on the giant screen in front of us. We had a standing date every week and mixed it up during the colder months. But as soon it started to get warmer, we preferred to spend our dates watching the movies that played at Riverside Park every Thursday night. They played a variety of old and new and tonight it was Arsenic and Old Lace. Classic.
Just as the credits started to roll on the screen, my phone rang. I cursed myself for forgetting to put it on silent and apologized to the people nearby shushing me, including Pierce. I was just going to hit ignore, but then I saw the name on the screen.
Mason.
Pierce jumped when I leapt up, quickly dashing away from the other people before I answered. “Sage Tucker.”
Don’t answer it like your work phone, you moron. He knows you’re not at work. Be cool.
“Hey, Sage. It’s Mason Cruz.”
For some absurd reason, the exact instant I heard his voice, the sight of him naked, covered in grease flashed through my mind. Oh, I bet he would look good like that.
“Hi, Mason. Is everything okay?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry to call you after hours, but I wanted to update you on the situation with the Plymouth.”
“Don’t say it’s a busted camshaft,” I begged. “I just ate dinner.”
He sighed and admitted reluctantly, “It’s a busted camshaft.”
“Oh, kill me now.”
“It’s not a lost cause, though,” he rushed to explain. “It’s definitely not the worst thing I’ve ever seen, so I can re-build it. It’ll take some time and I’ll have to order some parts but it’s doable, no question. Your other option is to replace the engine completely.”
I winced, knowing my dad would hate for it to not have its original 383. I was fond of it too. It had character. “Do you have engines at the shop now? Or are you talking about shopping around for one?”
“I have a few here.” I heard some shuffling in the background and then his v
oice got excited. “Oh, I’ve got a Hemi 454 that would sound so badass in that car.”
I laughed as I paced across the grass, the moonlight lighting my path. “I appreciate the generosity, but I don’t need that much power. Plus, the money in gas I would spend in one week alone would be horrendous.”
“And here I thought a woman like you could handle a lot of power.” I rolled my eyes as his laugh echoed in my ears. “But I’ll concede your point on the gas thing.”
I thought about it and realized that I really didn’t want a different engine if it could be avoided, despite the hit my wallet would take from all the extra work. Plus, Mason re-building it meant that he would continue to be in my life for at least the next few weeks, if not longer. As much as I wanted to deny it, that idea appealed to me greatly.
“Okay, how about we go with the option of re-building it for now? If for some reason you encounter more problems than you anticipated, we can stop and replace it with a different one altogether. I’ll pay you for all the labor you do either way, of course. Does that work?”
“If that’s what you want, absolutely,” he replied. “I probably won’t have a better time frame on when I can get it done by until I get those parts ordered.”
I thought I could probably get my dad to lend me his old ‘77 Nova to avoid a catastrophic rental car payment. “That’s not a problem. Just keep me updated if you run into any other issues.”
He was quiet for several moments. If I hadn’t heard his light breathing, I would have thought he’d hung up on me. “You bet, Sage. I look forward to working with you. We’ll talk soon.”
We hung up but those words rang in my ears throughout the entire movie. I look forward to working with you. He’d said it like a promise, almost like a vow. As if he held secrets I wasn’t yet aware of.
What do you have planned, Mason Cruz?
Chapter Four
Mason
I approached her from behind—and oh, what a behind it was—feeling a sense of déjà vu. I knew that purple hair, knew those tattoos. And I definitely knew that ass. Especially when it was barely covered in a pair of ratty Daisy Dukes as she lifted it in the air like a feast for my eyes. Bent over, ass up, looking under the hood of her car, she was my every fantasy come to life.
The Art of Sage (Cruz Brothers #2) Page 4