by Matson , TC
That must appease him because he glances to Ollie and says, “Don’t be long. Dinner’s almost ready,” and then disappears behind the door.
Fearing he may still be close, I don’t ask the questions I want—need—to. “Did your team win the game?”
“Yeah.”
“No penalties for that?” I nod to his face.
“Nah. Refs didn’t catch it.” But I catch the slight waver in his voice.
“That’s good.” My stare bores into him, hoping he hears me. “You good?”
He looks everywhere else but at me. “Yeah.”
“You sure?” Come on, Ollie. Give me something.
Becoming impatient, he shifts his feet. “I said yeah.”
If he’s not going to give me anything, then I’m outright asking. “He do that to you?” I whisper, praying he’s not right behind the door.
Ollie’s actions speak of aggravation, but I see the worry in his eyes. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip and he tilts his head. “I said I’m good, A.”
“You got my number. Use it if you need it. For anything. You got me?”
He gives me a quick nod. “Yeah. See you around.”
The door shuts in my face leaving me vibrating with anger. I can’t help him if he doesn’t tell me what’s going on. I can’t assume without proof even if he wears the bruises. He’s got to tell me…
* * *
A week later, another Ollie-less meet, another fresh bruise, another hopeless attempt to get him to tell me something, and I’ve reached my breaking point. I’m not sure getting social services involved is smart. It could cause more problems for Ollie—if there are any. So instead, I call in a favor.
“Mr. Broderick,” Maxwell stands to shake my hand. “I’m surprised to hear from you. How have you been?”
Taking the seat across from the desk of New York’s best PI, I blow a heavy breath. Maxwell Hammond worked with my father on many occasions and I haven’t seen him since the funeral.
“Well.”
“I’d say better than well.” He smiles and it gives it away that he’s looked for me. Of course he has. I bet Dad has always had eyes on me.
“One foot in front of the other,” I say.
“Your father always told you to do that.” He takes a breath. “So what can I do for you?”
“There’s a kid I feel is being abused by his mother’s boyfriend. I don’t have proof, only a gut feeling.”
“Why not call social services?”
“I’m worried if there is abuse, calling them in could result in a nightmare for the kid or possibly amplify verbal, possibly physical, abusive methods.”
“Is this one of your kids from the program? The one you take home often?”
I smirk. Sneaky shit. “Yeah.”
He scribbles something down on paper. “I’ll look into it, but Ash there are strict laws set in place for this type of matter. If I do discover there is abuse or if I see it, I must call the proper people in immediately. Not after contacting you either. They come first.”
With my elbows on my knees, I tug at the top of my hair trying to think how I should proceed. I need Ollie safe.
“How about take him home after next week’s meeting? Maybe alone, he’ll open up and talk to you.”
“He hasn’t been to a meet in two weeks.”
“Is it against policy rules if you show up at his house?”
I shake my head. “I have and he won’t talk because the boyfriend lingers around.”
He clicks his pen a few times. “Are you allowed to go to his school?”
“Zandrea, my program’s director, can. I’m not authorized.”
The corner of his lips twitch. “Don’t you have one of the boys living with you?”
I blow a chuckle. “How much retainer did Dad give you?”
Wrinkles appear at the corner of his eyes when he grins. “You’re a man who likes to bend the rules. Legally, I’m not allowed to suggest you break laws. Use your head, Ash. You’re just as smart as your father was.” He shoves to his feet and shakes my hand again. “I’m the last-ditch effort. Do what you can first and then call me back.”
There’s a hint of something in his gaze—a promise, a challenge, and some hope.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Do it,” Ash taunts me.
“Nope.”
He leans in closer. “Don’t be a scaredy cat. Do it.”
“Are you seriously trying to peer pressure me? How old are you?” I quip.
He chuckles. “If you won’t do it, I will.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Eyes locked on mine, he grabs the cashier’s microphone, leans in close, licks his lips, and says, “Two Krusty Krab patties. Hold the mustard and pickles, add mayo. Large fry with no salt. We have a picky one here.”
As his voice booms over the diner’s PA system, all eyes turn to us and fire scorches my cheeks. “Oh my god.”
Laughing, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, bringing the microphone to me. “Your turn.”
“No way!” I cackle, but immediately it gets sucked back into my throat when I hear my voice echoing around us.
“Sir?” the manager glowers. “I need you to stop.”
Ash lets go of the microphone and it slowly moves back into its original position. “Sorry. She dared me to.”
I bury my face into his chest as he walks us away. “I hate you.”
He barks a laugh. “You said that with a smile, so it’s untrue.”
He’s right. I’m falling blindly in love with him.
When the cool night air hits my body, I push him away and slap his arm. “I can’t believe you did that. I could strangle you.” I shriek with laughter.
Ash smiles from ear to ear, his shoulders bouncing as he laughs and his eyes shimmering with happiness. He pulls me close and runs his nose along mine. “I love your bashful ways,” he confesses, his voice low and sexy.
It makes my heart flutter. I bite my tongue to keep the three words I want to say so badly to myself.
“Yeah?” I breathe, peering up to him.
Emotions interweave in the streaks of blue and flecks of gray in his irises with the same love I feel in my heart.
“Very much,” he states simply and then blinks. All of it is gone, replaced with apprehension. “I’ve got so much I need to tell you.”
“I hope you know you can tell me anything.”
His mouth tips up. “Soon. I promise.” His phone rings and he drops a kiss to my mouth before breaking the trance.
“Hello?” Pause. “This is he.” Every muscle in his body tenses as his eyes flash wide, his nostrils flare, and the color drains from his face. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll be right there.” Gripping my hand, he’s already on the move. “Yes. I’ll get him. I’m on my way.”
I have to run to keep up with his long jogging strides. “Ash. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Ollie.”
“Who?”
“Get in,” he snaps, releasing my hand as we approach his truck.
He jams the keys into the ignition, starts the engine, and slams it into gear. He barrels down the roads, slowing down for stop lights but never fully stopping, nor waiting for them to turn green.
“Ash?”
The muscles in his jaw jut out as he grits his teeth, his lips set in a grim line. His knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel. His eyes are hyper focused.
A response doesn’t come until we pull into the parking lot of the police station and he turns off the truck. “There’s shit I haven’t told you. I’ve wanted to and I will, but I don’t have time right now.” He never looks at me. Whatever it is…it’s big.
I take a seat as Ash speaks with a woman for a minute before joining me. His knee bounces as he wrings his hands. He looks torn between being worried sick and murderously angry and because of that, I feel helpless and unsure of what to do. So I just sit.
Moments later a door opens and a man steps out. “Asher Broderick
?”
Ash jerks to his feet. “Yeah. Is Ollie—Oliver okay?”
“Come with me. Just you.”
When Ash glances down to me, the look of fear almost breaks my heart. I nod, giving him a small smile to let him know I’m fine.
The distant clanking of metal doors pulls my attention back to the tan door Ash disappeared behind earlier. I uncurl my body from the hard-plastic gray chair just as Ash steps out with a little boy wrapped around his neck and heads toward the exit. Without a word, I follow him out of the station and to his truck.
No words are exchanged as he buckles the child up or when we pull out of the parking lot. The little boy stares out the back window, his hair a mess with mud, his clothes stained, and his feet bare.
Ash grabs his phone. “You uptown?” he asks into the receiver. “Some shit went down with Ollie tonight. Can you grab him some clean clothes? You know where the money is.” Pause. “Yeah. Get a couple days’ worth.”
Ash glances over to me and for the first time I see the anguish in his eyes. The worry. Not knowing what’s happening, but needing to comfort him, I squeeze his bicep. It’s not much, but I hope he knows I’m here.
Thirty minutes later, we pull into a parking garage to a high-rise apartment building. When Ash grabs Ollie from the back seat, the boy latches on to him and buries his head in the crook of Ash’s neck. Ash’s strides are brisk and I’m almost in a jog trying to keep up with him when we’re greeted by a smiling doorman before slipping into an elevator.
We don’t speak as he leads us down a hallway and stops at a door, unlocking it and pushing in. A boy wearing a black beanie, gray hoodie, and black jeans meets us in the foyer. One look at Ash and his eyes widen. “What happened?”
Ash shakes his head and then squats to put Ollie down. I see then the mud isn’t mud at all. It’s blood. I swallow my gasp. “You need a shower. You good or do you want one of us in there with you?”
Ollie never lifts his head.
Ash stands and grabs Ollie’s hands, but turns back to me with so many emotions swirling in his eyes. “Make yourself at home.” And then they disappear down the hallway.
The walls in the apartment are neutral colors paired with a deep gray couch and matching love seat that are angled toward a large screen TV over a fireplace insert. Artwork decorates the walls—different drawings and paintings, everything that I can see Ash creating with his incredible mind.
Moving around the room, I come to a dead stop in front of a bookshelf. Staring back at me is a younger Ash, along with an older man and woman and a younger woman as they sit on a bench, turned toward the camera with the city in the distance behind them. In the one beside it, they’re walking through trees.
The boy who was at the door earlier is sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table.
“Is this Ash’s place?”
He scoffs. “Yeah.”
My heart cramps before it wilts and tumbles down my rib cage into my stomach. He lives in one of the wealthiest parts of town with a doorman and I didn’t know. I don’t know the kid he picked up tonight, nor the one sitting in front of me.
“I’m…I’m Kenlyn.” I twist my thumbs together, a nervous habit I’ve not done in ages.
“I know,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m Cody.”
Are you his son? His brother? Who is Ollie? The questions are on the tip of my tongue. Suddenly, I feel betrayed. I’m in love with a complete stranger.
As if he could feel my confusion and anger rising, Ash comes back into the living room and pushes Cody’s feet off the table. “I put him in your room for the night. Head in there with him for a bit, please.”
Cody doesn’t speak as he nods and leaves.
I burn Ash with a stare. “Nice place.” My tone is bitter.
He swallows and scratches the back of his neck. “You want something to drink?”
“No. I want answers. Is he okay?”
“I don’t know. For the moment, yes. He’s safe. He’s alive.” He shoves his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “His mother was killed by her boyfriend tonight.” I choke on my breath. “Ollie heard the commotion, witnessed what was happening, and jumped on his back with a knife before being thrown off and running to the neighbor’s house. They’re the ones who called the law.”
Tears burn my eyes.
“His father is in prison for life for murder. His mother is dead. He has no family. I’m the closest thing he has.” He shifts, his gaze heavy with sorrow. “I work with One2One Change mentoring a small group of boys. Ollie’s in there. Cody is too, but he stays here when his grandfather is on a bender.”
One2One. I’ve done some work for them. Promise Hope Gala donates a large part of their funds to them too.
“Why haven’t you ever told me any of this?” My voice wavers.
“Because I don’t like answering the questions that come with it.”
Confused, I tilt my head and narrow my gaze. I’ve bared myself to him and have answered some tough questions, but he can’t tell me about working for a mentoring program? “Why?”
“Because I’m adopted. I can relate to what most the kids feel.”
That explains why he doesn’t look like anyone in his family. “Are you ashamed that you are?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Then try me,” I beg softly. “I can’t understand a thing if you don’t talk to me.” Anger begins to lace my tone. “You’ve kept all this from me. Do you not trust me?”
“It’s not that. It’s…” He pauses. “You wouldn’t understand, Kenlyn.”
Hurt rides out on my sigh. “You’re right. I won’t understand a thing because I have such a damn perfect life.” I throw my hands out and drop them to my side. “I trusted you enough to let you into my life. That’s more than I can say about you.”
Ash opens his mouth but quickly shuts it when Cody appears from the hallway. “He’s asking for you.”
Ash looks conflicted. “Tell him I’ll be there in a—”
“No. Go,” I interrupt. “He needs someone stable, and right now he needs to feel safe. We’ll talk later.” As much as I want to kiss Ash, have him wrap me into a hug and tell me everything will be okay, I can’t. I won’t. Because honestly, I don’t know if it will be.
Tears sting my eyes, and as the door shuts behind me, they fall.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A week has done Ollie some good. After the first night and the shock wore off, he was a wreck. It killed me to see him so broken, big fat tears staining his cheeks as he told me everything. My instincts were right. Henry had been abusing him. Apparently, Henry started drinking heavily and liked to get handsy with Ollie. The night of the incident, Ollie’s mother walked in just as Henry smacked her son. She tried to kick him out and call the law, but he had other plans and she died trying to protect Ollie.
She was stabbed multiple times, and when Ollie ran back downstairs, he saw his mother in a pool of blood. He told me he doesn’t remember what happened after that except an officer squatting in front of him. The officers pieced the rest together.
Tuesday was the only day I had open and I had planned to go to Ollie’s school and have lunch with him to see if I could get him to talk to me. Zandrea was going to come with me since she was authorized. Unfortunately, my plan wasn’t fast enough.
I’ve taken off this week from work, but Tig and Del have offered more time if I need it. Thankfully, the state has allowed me to keep Ollie with me since he has no family and I’ve mentored him for years. I’ve kept him home from school, not that he’s complaining about it. I’ve kept him busy between the detectives and psychologists showing up. Slowly, I’m seeing Ollie peek out from the shell. He’s endured one hell of a trauma and is resilient. He’ll get through this and I’ll be right beside him every step of the way. The kid is stronger than I could ever be.
Fay, Cody, Ollie, and I are sitting around the table playing a game of Uno when there’s a knock on the door. Ollie s
ighs, figuring it’s another visit from the detectives or doctors, but they usually run that by me first.
The sight of Kenlyn almost buckles my knees. I haven’t seen her since that night and we haven’t spoken much other than short texts.
She holds up a bag. “I came by to bring Ollie a few things if that’s okay.” Her smile is tight.
Hearing her voice causes my pulse to spike. I’ve missed her.
“He’s in the living room,” I say, wanting to pull her against me and kiss the hell out of her mouth, but I don’t know where we stand anymore. And it sucks.
She hands me a different bag. “There are clothes in there for him.”
Even mad and confused with me, her heart shines and I’m about to tell her when she’s spotted.
“Kenlyn!” Fay pops up smiling.
Ollie’s eyes find Kenlyn and his mouth falls open. “That’s your girlfriend? How’d you manage to hit something that hot?”
Confusion swallows her as she swivels her head to me. I lean down closer. “He doesn’t remember me picking him up or bringing him back here. The doctors say that’s part of the shock and that his memory is blocking parts to protect him.”
She blinks back just in time to see Fay pop him in the back of the head and he laughs.
Kenlyn grins. “I brought something for you.” Ollie leaps to his feet rushing toward her. “I don’t know what you like, but I figured if you like hanging with Ash you have to be creative.”
He rips open the bag and pulls out a large box. “Whoa! An engineering building set?” His eyes flash to Kenlyn. “You must think I’m smart.”
“Ash tells me you’re super smart.” I stifle a chuckle when Ollie puffs his chest out. “Anything you build has the ability to move.”
“You want to help put it together with me?” he asks, holding the box in front of him.
“I wish I could, but I have to get back to work.”
Ollie’s hazel-colored eyes shift to me. “Can she come back tonight and help?”
I hope. I need some time with her. She meets my gaze. “If she’d like.”
