Maybe that was what got to her more than the lying. The fact that Bodie didn’t see his value, didn’t see the point in taking care of himself or striving for anything. No dreams. Just anger and bitterness. Instead of trying to build a better future for himself, he was partying like his future didn’t matter.
But that was on her.
She’d excused everything he’d done since her nephew had arrived at her house, and he had taken advantage of it. Anger burned, but underneath it simmered a fear she’d never known. She was responsible for this boy. This life. If anything happened to him, it was all on her. She wasn’t his babysitter or his friend or even his aunt right now. She was his guardian. And she might be his guardian for a very long time.
The term mama bear had never meant anything to her, but when she pulled up in front of the Lewis’s house, that was the only way to describe the anger. Bearlike. Dangerous. Threatening.
She screeched the truck to a stop behind one of eight cars parked along the street. As soon as she got out, she heard it—music thumping, people laughing.
They wouldn’t be laughing in a few minutes. Charity jogged up the front walkway and didn’t even bother knocking. She barged right in, nearly taking out a young high school–aged couple who were kissing in the entryway.
“I’m looking for Bodie,” she growled at their shocked faces. “Thirteen-year-old kid. Black pants and a gray shirt.”
The boy pointed down a hallway and then ducked out the front door as if he knew all hell was about to break loose.
He didn’t even know the half of it. Charity marched down the hallway and found herself standing in a cramped living room. A few kids sat around on the sagging sofas with beer bottles in their hands, barely even looking up when she entered.
“Dude, it’s the barrel racer chick,” a young punk said from the couch. “What’re you doing here?”
“I’m looking for my nephew,” she ground out. “Bodie. He’s thirteen. And if he’s been drinking, so help me god, every single one of you is going to regret it.” That was all it took to clear the room. Everyone scattered as though they’d been through this routine before. It likely wasn’t their first time running from a pissed-off parent.
“Bodie!” Charity yelled, continuing on into the kitchen. The smell of pot hung thick in the air, filtering in through an open window. Outside. He had to be outside. She slammed through a flimsy screen door, nearly breaking the thing off its hinges, and stopped cold. There was her nephew, standing by a small firepit with a joint between his fingers.
“Hi there, auntie.” Bodie took a few wobbling steps. “What’re you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” she repeated in a whisper. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t even take one step toward him. She had no clue what she was doing. Obviously. She had no business raising a kid. His eyes were bloodshot and his mouth couldn’t seem to lose the grin.
“What’re you doing?” she demanded, though the answer was obvious. Throwing away his future. Drinking and smoking himself stupid.
“We’re just having some fun,” he slurred, looking down at the joint between his fingers. He quickly threw it into the fire as if he’d just remembered he shouldn’t be holding it.
“Fun?” The control she’d had over her voice had started to crack. “How much have you had to drink?”
“I dunno.” His shoulders arched into an exaggerated shrug and that dumb grin grew bigger. “Tasted like juice though.”
She turned to the delinquent standing next to him, presumably Jett. “What has he had to drink?”
The kid had the balls to look bored. “I don’t know.”
She got in his face. “You’d better tell me exactly what you gave him, or I will call the cops right now.”
“Chill,” Jett said like he had no idea why she was so upset. “He had some vodka. Hardly any.”
“So my thirteen-year-old nephew has been drinking vodka and smoking pot.”
Again, Jett seemed to appear as though this was an everyday occurrence in his world. “Yeah. But like I said, he hardly had anything.”
“Hardly anything? He can barely stand up.” She pushed past Jett and took Bodie’s hand. “Come on. We’re going.”
“Aw, man.” He stumbled a few steps. “Do we hafta? I like it here.”
She ignored his whines and marched him inside through the now-empty house and out to the truck. He was so inebriated, she actually had to help him climb in.
“Put your seat belt on,” she snapped. He wasn’t getting off easy this time. There were serious consequences for underage drinking. If he wouldn’t listen to her, she had to find a way to get through to him. And maybe give him a little bit of a scare in the process. Dev might be on friendly terms with Bodie, but he was still a cop. He would know exactly what to say.
Chapter Twelve
Dev closed the email from the investigator back in Oklahoma and shut down his laptop. Melody Stone was officially a person of interest in the robbery. Thanks to him. While they hadn’t issued a warrant for her arrest yet, they likely would as soon as they found any scrap of evidence, and he still hadn’t found a way to tell Charity. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He hadn’t had the opportunity to tell her. It was hard to tell someone something when they made it a point to avoid you.
He walked into the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge. It might be better to wait to tell Charity anyway. The longer Melody was gone, the smaller the chance she’d come back, and Charity already had enough to deal with right now. He didn’t want to—
An engine hummed outside his cabin. Dev glanced at the clock. Almost nine. That surely couldn’t be his parents going somewhere. Not at this time of the night. Far as he knew they’d been hitting the hay around eight. He moved through the living room so he could look out the window, but someone started banging on his front door.
“Dev? Are you there?”
The panicked ring in Charity’s voice gave him a good kick in the chest.
“Please! I need your—”
He had the door open before she could finish. He meant to say something, but the tears running down her cheeks rendered him completely speechless. Charity Stone didn’t cry.
“Oh, thank god.” She was out of breath. “It’s Bodie. He’s in the truck. He was at a party drinking and now I can’t wake him up.”
“How much has he had to drink?” he asked, shoving his feet into his boots. If the kid had alcohol poisoning, Dev could easily call dispatch and get an ambulance out here within a few minutes.
“I don’t know.” She sniffled and wiped her cheeks with the edge of her sleeve. “All I could get out of his friend was that he’d had some vodka. And they were smoking pot too.”
Dev followed her to the passenger’s side of her truck and opened the door. “Let me guess, he was at Jett Lewis’s house.”
“Yes.” Her voice wobbled. “I didn’t know. I had no idea that kid was trouble. Oh my god.” Her hands gripped Dev’s arm. “Will he be okay? If anything happens to him—”
“He’s fine.” In fact, the kid was sacked out on the seat, snoring peacefully. He’d definitely had too much to drink, but he wasn’t in distress. “He’s only passed out.” She probably could’ve woken him if she’d tried hard enough. Maybe with a bullhorn and a bucket of ice-cold water…
“Are you sure?” Charity asked, still hanging on to him. Her body shook.
Dev drew her in and slipped his arm around her. “I’m sure. Trust me, I’ve seen more than one drunk kid.” Unfortunately. It was never one of his favorite things to issue underage drinking tickets, seeing as how he’d been on the other side of it a few times in his life. “Most of them have been at Jett Lewis’s house,” he added.
“Why does everyone know that kid is trouble except for me?” Surprisingly, Charity stayed nestled in the crook of his arm.
Even though he hated to, Dev moved away from her and undid Bodie’s seat belt. He hoisted the boy out of the truck, cradling him like he would a little kid. “I’
ve busted more than one party at that house,” he said, making his way back to his front door.
“Well, I had no idea.” She followed him inside. “I was just happy he’d started to make friends. If it weren’t for Naomi and Jessa informing me about Jett’s family situation, I would’ve left Bodie there all night. He probably would’ve been dead by morning.” Tears flooded her eyes again.
“I doubt it. My guess is he only had a drink or two before passing out. Most thirteen-year-olds are lightweights.”
That didn’t seem to make her feel much better. “Why don’t you take a seat?” Dev gestured to the couch. “I’ll get him settled in my bed so he can sleep it off.”
“Thank you.” Charity sank to the couch while he maneuvered into his room and eased Bodie to the bed. After checking the kid’s breathing one more time, Dev moved a trash can by the bed for the inevitable puking session that would happen later and then slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
By the time he got back to the living room, Charity had hunched over and was hiding her face in her hands.
Damn. He’d never seen her like this. “Hey.” Dev sat next to her. “It’s all right. He just needs to sleep it off.”
“It’s not all right.” She laid her head back and stared up at the ceiling. “I can’t do this. I can’t raise a kid. I can’t keep him out of trouble.”
That lost look on her face drew him closer to her. Screw what she’d said about not wanting his help. Right now, she needed it.
“I didn’t even take him over there,” she went on. “I didn’t push to meet the kid’s parents. I completely trusted everything he said. But that’s obviously not working.” She turned her face to his. “He needs to be held accountable. And I can’t do it. I can’t hold him accountable. I can’t give him consequences.”
“How come?” He stroked her silky hair, letting the ends fall through his fingers.
“Because I know what it’s like.” The words came out in a garbled whisper. “I know what it’s like to have to fend for yourself all the time. And it makes me want to rescue him. I go crazy with this feeling that I have to protect him from anything that might hurt him. It’s like instinct takes over and I can’t think clearly.”
That was the most she’d ever revealed to him, the most she’d ever let him see. He wanted to be careful with it, to guard her vulnerability, but he also wanted to know more. He wanted to know her. After the scene with that cowboy at the bar a few weeks ago, he’d seen an obvious fear in her eyes. “Is it because you couldn’t protect yourself when you were his age?” he asked quietly.
The question seemed to surprise her, and for a minute he thought she wouldn’t answer it, that she would retreat again, but then her gaze dropped to her lap. “My mom dated a lot of men.” She stared at her knees, chewing furiously on her bottom lip. “They were always saying things. Trying to touch me.” She raised her eyes to his. He’d seen that look before—the night he’d pulled her out of the bar. Blank, wild eyes.
The hum of anger started in his chest, spreading in scorching pulses, but he said nothing. Asked no more questions. Only waited and braced himself for what he knew was coming.
“When I was twelve, one of her boyfriends used to run his hand up the back of my shirt.” Her shoulders twitched as if the memory still made her skin crawl. “Another one would kiss me on the lips. Hard. It always made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.”
Dev’s hands fisted. The thought of someone violating her like that…he could’ve punched a hole through a steel wall.
“They’d make comments about my butt and my breasts,” Charity went on. “They’d buy me slutty clothes and make me wear them.” A choppy sigh spluttered through her lips. “I know they didn’t abuse me, but—”
“Like hell they didn’t,” he growled. If he could, he’d go back and track down every single asshole that had ever laid a hand on her—every man that had made her feel small and had taken advantage of her vulnerability.
Charity’s eyes flared wider.
She really didn’t know. “That’s abuse,” he said quietly. Carefully. “You were a child, Charity. Any sexual advances. Any touch. Any time one of them made you feel uncomfortable and took away your voice. That’s abuse.”
Her lips pursed together, trembling violently. “You’re right. They took advantage of me. But the worst part is, my mom never stopped it. She was too afraid it would ruin things with whatever guy she happened to be dating at the time.”
“So you learned to protect yourself.” That’s why she pushed him away. The person who was supposed to take care of her had failed her, and now she didn’t trust anyone.
“Now I see Bodie acting the same way I did.” She wiped away tears. “I see the anger covering up his fears. I see how he keeps his distance. He’ll start to open up to me and then two minutes later he’ll completely shut down again.”
Exactly like she did. Dev fought the urge to touch her, to take her in his arms and hold her so she’d know she wasn’t alone in this, but he forced himself to give her space.
Charity turned her face to his, her eyes shimmering with a sad vulnerability. “He’s exactly like me, Dev. And I hate watching it.”
“You’re not so bad…” He cracked a smile, doing his best to lure out hers. “A terrible driver, maybe, but you’ve got your good qualities too.”
The diversion seemed to work. She didn’t give him a real smile, but her mouth perked up. “All I seem to recognize in him are my bad qualities. The things I don’t exactly love about myself.”
“Then let me tell you what I see.” Dev brought his face in line with hers so she wouldn’t look away. “I see a kid who’s exactly like his aunt. He’s tough and determined. Loyal.” Even to a mother who’d abandoned him. “He’s a hard worker, and yes, he has a lot of fears, but he’s got a lot of heart too.” He slid his hand forward on the couch cushion and brushed his fingers over her knuckles. “Best of all, he’s got an aunt who’s stubborn enough to do whatever it takes to make sure he gets exactly what he needs to live a good, happy life.”
Charity couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried. And she definitely hadn’t cried in front of another person since she was a kid—not even when she’d broken her collarbone during a race, even though her eyes had stung as bad as the break. She’d always forced herself to hold back tears. Now, though, she couldn’t seem to stop them.
“I don’t know how to help him.” Dev’s hand was still close, resting on the cushion inches away from hers. Needing a lifeline, she reached for it, craving the faith this man always seemed to kindle in her. “What if I’m not enough? What if I mess up?”
Dev leaned closer. He gathered both of her hands in his, holding them tightly, fully capable and steadfast. “What if everything you’ve been through up until now has made you the perfect person to be exactly what Bodie needs?”
He let go of her hands and touched her cheek. “You know better than anyone what he’s experienced, Charity. You know what’s hurt him. What saved you?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Riding.”
“Because it gave you a purpose. Made you realize you had something to offer the world.” Dev smiled. “That’s all you have to do. Help him find his purpose. Help him see how much he has to offer. You’re resilient and determined. You have a huge heart. Those are all things he needs right now.”
His words eased her worries, somehow making them seem more manageable. It didn’t matter if she was enough or not. She had to do this. And she would put everything she had into it. “Thank you.” Charity lightly pressed her palm against his jaw, drawing his face closer.
She needed him to take her away from the past, from the worry, from the isolation. Dev made her feel softer and open. Lovable.
Their lips touched in a frenzy of heat that ignited the hollow spot deep inside of her. The glow radiated all the way through, casting its vivid light into her darkest places. This was a kiss. Something shared and mysterious. Like a secret only their lips k
new.
Dev opened his mouth to hers and stroked her tongue with his, sharpening the edges of that heat so it sliced through every hesitation that had made her retreat from him before.
Charity raised her other hand to his jaw to hold him there, to hold on to this kiss that told her he understood so much—what she needed, what she feared. She let herself get lost in it, not fully surrendered, but edging closer, clinging to the rhythm of his lips and the way they claimed hers.
When Dev pulled back, her whole chest ached, suddenly laden with disappointment.
“He’s going to be fine,” the deputy assured her. “You both are.” He pushed off the couch and reached out to help her up. “Come on. Let’s go check on him. See if he’s regretting the last four hours of his life yet.”
For the first time, the kiss didn’t tempt her to run out the door and spend the next week avoiding him. Instead, Charity put her hand in his, and then held on to him all the way down the hall. Together, they stepped into his bedroom, where Bodie lay in the middle of a massive king-size bed, still snoring away.
The room was much larger than she’d anticipated. It had that rustic look with tall ceilings and log beams. A stone fireplace was nestled in one corner, giving the whole space a romantic ambiance. Under different circumstances, she might’ve been tempted to pull Dev over to the bed so they could continue that kiss. Probably not wise, given her current emotional state, but that didn’t stop her from considering it.
“Still sound asleep.” Dev leaned over to adjust the pillows under Bodie’s head.
Her nephew groaned a little, but then turned over and started to snore again.
She gazed down at him and every worry Dev had just soothed came bubbling back to the surface. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.”
Colorado Cowboy Page 13
