by Violet Duke
Addison had no words. No defense. Instead of providing these families with a better alternative to living on the streets, she’d placed them all in danger. Put them at the mercy of a madman. “I understand your concern and wouldn’t blame you at all for wanting to vacate the premises.”
The outcry started up again.
“Where are we supposed to go?”
“Can’t you just increase security?”
“Isn’t your boyfriend a cop?”
The questions just kept coming.
“We’ve already hired one of the best security firms in the state, and beyond that, we’ll continue to bring in additional safety measures. That said, I can’t in good conscience provide you with any sort of guarantees that it’s safe here for your families. So I’ve already talked to several shelters,” she raised her voice to be heard over the chaos.
The mention of shelters had a few families walking out on the spot.
“What is it going to be?” called out one of the newest dads on site incredulously, “first come first serve? Then the rest of us have to decide between staying here with a psycho rapist stalking the joint, or going back on the streets again?”
“Hold on,” argued his neighbor, “I don’t know where the rest of you used to pitch your tents, but I’d rather take my chances here where there’s security rather than have my kids worry about stepping on broken needles or running into a tweaked-out druggie.”
Maggie, the mother she’d relied on to evacuate the children from the study hall walked straight up to her and looked her dead in the eye, voice cold and wholly betrayed as she spat out, “You brought us here, and promised us a better life, a better shot at getting out of the homeless cycle, and now you’re saying our BEST option is to go back?”
That one hung in the air like a dark, dense fog that cloaked everything around them. A brutal summary of the reality they were all facing at the moment.
Just like that, most of the families were done listening. Many lined up to reserve shelter space, while others began grouping up to discuss their next move, the best areas they could set up tent again. And still others broke away from the pack without a word, leaving behind the community she’d tried to build for them, looking more alone than when they’d first come here.
In all the nightmares of David she’d suffered through over the past seven years, not one of them were half as devastating as the scene unfolding before her.
One of the few single fathers on site, who was doing a remarkable job raising twin boys came up to her. “You tried, Addison. That’s more than most people can say. Keep your head up. Don’t let this one day undo all the good you’ve done for us for the past months.”
So saying, he left as well.
The head of her afterschool activities, who lived on site, stepped forward, tears in her eyes. “Addison…my girls and I, we owe you everything. But…a rapist. A criminal that’s unstable at best…” Equal parts regret and motherly resolve reflected across her features. “I’m so so sorry, but we’re going to go.”
“Don’t apologize,” whispered Addison, returning the fierce hug. “Your girls and your safety come first. Always. You let me know if I can help you once you get settled, you hear?”
It didn’t end there.
One by one, her staff members that were also residents each came forward to let her know they were leaving.
By midnight, the building was a ghost town.
When finally, there was no one else she needed to be strong or brave or calm for, she crumbled.
Caine caught her before she hit the floor.
Gathering her up in his arms, he pulled her into his lap, and just held her.
“This was all my fault,” she whispered.
“Don’t say that. Don’t even think it. You are not accountable for David’s actions.”
“But I’m accountable for my own.” After talking for so many hours straight, her throat was raw, and she welcome the pain. “I endangered the lives of all these families, Caine. All because I was arrogant enough to think that I could outrun my past, that it wouldn’t continue to haunt me. I’ve spent the last few years telling hundreds of families in shelters that they could rebuild their lives, do one better than simply restoring it. I stood before these parents and children and promised them they could overcome their pasts…all the while being the fraud that’s been hiding from hers.”
Bitterness bled through her words. “I thought I was helping them, saving them. It never once occurred to me that I could in fact make things so much worse for them.”
“You can’t let what happened here today negate all the good you’ve done, everything you’ve given back to these families.”
Slowly, she unclenched her fists for the first time in hours. To look down at the blackened soot on her hands. “What I’ve given them is more to be afraid of than they’d ever had before, more to be devastated over.”
She shot back up to her feet and pointed out the window. “Look what he did, Caine. Not only did he have them fearing for their lives today, but he torched the gardens they’ve all worked on. He showed them cruelty that for once, wasn’t the universe’s doing. He deliberately took something they grew with their own two hands and burned it to the ground.”
The charred gardens—the only parts of the complex that had been set on fire—was a pointed, destructive message for her, that all the residents had had to feel the wrath of as well.
Anguish tore her to shreds on the inside. “These families don’t come by trust easily, and today, I decimated that trust. All for…”
Us. “Guess I’m the apple that didn’t fall that far from the tree.”
Swift fury and frustration swept across Caine’s face. “Don’t let him do this to you. To what you and I just got back. Addison, you know you’re nothing like your mother.”
“Maybe not. But it sure does look like our destinies are aligned, doesn’t it?” she replied brokenly, halfway to defeat, with a fresh helping of disappointment in herself. “It’s ironic, really. My mom chose to be with a whole lot of men and ended up failing her family. I chose to be with one man and ended up failing a whole lot of families.” She hated irony.
“You didn’t fail us, Addison.”
Addison spun around to see one of the bigger pilot families that had moved into the complex during their soft launch a month before they officially opened their doors.
Hell, what right did she have to hold a pity party for herself when her families were losing everything? Pull yourself together, woman.
“Tim, Nancy. Is everything okay? I thought you left a while ago.”
“We were getting ready to,” replied Tim candidly. “We had most of our stuff packed up and everything.”
Nancy came forward. “But just when we were about done, the Jorgensons from next door came over and gave us a Ziploc bags of energy bars Jill had made, because she knew it was our favorite.” Her voice wobbled, but she trudged on. “Then Al and Sue from across the hall said they would watch the kids for a few hours so we could go find a place to set up our tent.”
“A tent that Bill from the next building had patched up for us,” continued Tim, “right before he went to his shop to put some hinges on some pieces of plywood that we’d be able to fold up take with us, with some little ottoman feet we could screw in when it was opened up so we could make a bed off the ground for my momma, on account of her bad back.”
When he, Nancy, the kids, and their nana stepped off to the side, Addison saw a dozen more families starting to fill the hallways.
“This right here is what you did, Addison. You didn’t fail us. You showed us that we could be more than the product of our misfortunes. That we could be in charge of our own destinies again. That we could be a part of a community again, in a world that literally spit us out onto the street like social outcasts.” He drew in a deep, impassioned breath. “You gave us good homes we could have pride in, safe playgrounds for our children to play in. You turned our neighbors into our equals—into co
lleagues we worked alongside, into our teachers as well as our students…into trusted friends. You gave us the seeds to grow our new lives as families, the tools to build the futures a lot of us stopped dreaming was possible.”
“…And most important of all, you gave us hope again.”
Nancy turned to look out into the hall. “None of us here are willing to give all that up. None of us here are willing to give up, period.”
Addison quickly discovered that there was nothing in her entire lexicon sufficiently strong enough to express what she was feeling, to translate how much their staying meant to her own formerly dwindling supply of hope.
As she stood there, struggling to speak, Caine swooped in to give her a minute to use her words again by sharing a story with the crowd. “Earlier tonight, I’d called up my captain over at my precinct to see if we could organize some sort of community service event out here to help with the clean-up. Turns out, they’d already beaten me to it. A steady stream of officers have been signing up all night to take shifts here. And that had nothing to do with me. Or Addison, even. The officers said they want to help you all rebuild what you lost. From restoring your gardens to restoring your feeling of safety here, they want to do what they can to help.”
Alec materialized in the doorway. “The community beyond these walls feel the same. Our phones have been ringing off the hook all evening with calls from fellow urban farmers all across the state, neighborhood shop managers, some of your bosses and colleagues as well—they all want to help out too.”
Oh sweet lord, at this rate, she’d never be able to speak again. She was pretty much just a crying ball of emotions right now.
Luckily, none of the families required her to talk. They all just wanted to hug the news out with her and then head on back to their apartments to sleep so they could start the clean-up first thing in the morning.
By her estimation, over half the families were heading off to sleep in their beds tonight.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to go out and find the rest,” she told Caine firmly when her voice eventually returned. “I’m going to bring them all home.”
Caine came up behind her to wrap one strong, supportive arm around her waist. “Thought you might say that.” Using his free hand, he swiped the screen of his phone to life, and after four quick passcode entries, he showed her a map of the city with a whole bunch of red blinking dots.
Then he just held her and waited.
It took her a second, but when she finally figured out what exactly she was looking at, her heart just about burst wide open. She turned and gazed up at the crazy wonderful man she just flat-out loved the heck out of. “You low-jacked them?”
He grinned. “Every single family on their way out.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Are you sure I can’t change your mind?”
Addison shook her head, reaching up to smooth her hand up Caine’s suit-clad chest. “Nope. You need to go to the courthouse to testify—you worked on this case for nearly a year; they need your testimony far more than I need a babysitter.”
Caine frowned. “I still can’t believe Alec just up and left like a thief in the night without telling me anything. Did he give you any more info on where he went?”
“Nope. He just said that he’d be back as soon as he can, but that there was something he really needed to do today.”
“I hate having to leave you to start the fire clean-up on your own.”
“I’m not alone. Close to thirty families and five more of my staff members stayed last night. Most of them are already out there with the clean-up crew and groundskeeper.”
He pulled her into his arms. “Guess I should go take the tracking devices off the ones who came back. As far as the others go, I’ve been keeping tabs on them through the night—had some buddies do drive-bys to check up on the ones I was worried about. Built a pretty efficient route we can take to track them all down as soon as I get out of court today.”
She just shook her head and drank in every intense inch of him, immediately getting herself sucked into the orbit of his dark, stormy gaze—freshly charged today with relief, hope, and a hundred other emotions she’d been feeling alongside him since David nearly broke her yesterday.
“Tell me the truth, if the families hadn’t returned, and I’d chosen flight over fight yesterday, would you have cuffed me to the bed to keep me from leaving this time?” She distinctly remembered him making a threat similar to that seven years ago.
…She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t still more than a little intrigued over the idea.
“Not cool getting me worked up before I have to go be a witness in a trial, woman.”
She buried her lips against the now corded column of his neck. “Is that a yes?”
“No.”
Oh. Bummer.
“I’d have kept you cuffed to me. Indefinitely, this time.”
Oh. Even better.
A loud, amused ‘ahem’ from the living room kept her from asking how then this morning’s shower activities would’ve gone in that particular scenario.
Caine shot his eyes over to her previously closed front door.
If looks could neuter.
“Don’t go glaring at the cavalry.” Marco walked right up between them and scooped her into a big bear hug. “You two can continue your dirty bondage talk later.”
Addison’s felt her whole face turn tomato red.
Caine pulled her out of Marco’s arms. “Your timing sucks as usual, man.” He cupped her face with both hands and grazed his thumbs across her red hot cheeks. “Cereal’s on the counter. And there’s a quart of that chocolate almond milk you like so much on the fridge door.”
“I knew you loved me,” announced Marco as he headed off to the kitchen. “Sorry you had to find out this way, Addison.”
Caine rolled his eyes with what could only be called affectionate male annoyance. Tugging her toward the door to see him out, he gave her a proper goodbye kiss to leave her with a nice little buzz clear till lunch, and then handed her a Phoenix PD business card. “I’ll be back hopefully by this afternoon. If you need me and my phone is off, call the station. As long as you tell them who you are, someone will make sure to get a message to the courtroom I’ll be in.”
“Stop worrying. We’ll be fine. Now go, before you’re late.”
“Wait. Did I give you Lia’s number? Do you know what their scheduled ETA is to meet up with Max and Tanner in California?”
“Kylie called early this morning when she woke up. Lia and Hudson were getting the car ready for the drive over about an hour ago.”
When he still didn’t look anywhere near ready to leave, she tilted her head in question, but didn’t prod, didn’t push.
He stared at her for a long, silent beat before finally asking gruffly, “You’re going to be here when I get back, right?”
Her heart tore open a few humbling inches at the seams. “I promise I’ll be here. I’m not going anywhere this time.”
The tension in his shoulders eased just the tiniest bit. He dragged her in for one final kiss before turning to Marco. “Keep my girl safe until I get home.”
Marco gave him an extra-long thumbs-up with his spoon, while answering Caine with an extra-deadly seriousness. “I’ll guard her with my life, man.”
A little after eleven, following an exhausting morning of fire clean-up with nearly a hundred volunteers, Addison got a call on her cell from a number she didn’t recognize.
Marco—who hadn’t left her side all day—immediately shifted into alpha bodyguard mode.
She waited for him to finish tapping something out on his own phone and give her the go-ahead before picking up. “Hello?”
“Addison? It’s Sonny. Don’t hang up.”
She shot Marco a ‘false-alarm’ look. “Sonny, now’s not a good time. And as you well remember, you’re only supposed to be communicating with me via our lawyers.”
“That’s what I’m calling to talk about. At least part
ially, anyway. You and I both know Lara doesn’t have a chance in hell at getting named executor of Kylie’s trust. Even without your bigshot attorney.”
Honesty. How so very unlike the man. “Then why are you calling? If you’re thinking of trying to borrow money or something—”
“It’s about your mom.”
That made her stop and clutch the phone a little tighter. The woman may not be mother of the year, but she was the only mother she had.
“She’s using again, Addison. I swear, she tried real hard this time, I want you to know that.” He sighed. “Your mom, she’s not perfect, but I love her. And I’m real worried this time.”
“That bad?” She knew Sonny had seen her mom reach some pretty bad lows. But before he came along, Addison had seen worse.
“She’s spiraling out of control. Haven’t seen her like since I first met her. I finally checked her phone log yesterday and saw she’s been contacting her old dealer, the one that got her hooked on all that crazy shit before she went into the rehab when you were in high school.”
It was strange how no matter how many years passed, or how bad things got, she still couldn’t bear the thought of her mom struggling, suffering like this. “Have you called her sponsor?”
“Hasn’t helped. Lara won’t talk to anyone right now. That’s why I’m calling.” He sighed again, this time sounding less resigned, and more optimistic. “Honestly, I think the only person who can pull her out of this one is you, Addie.”
“Me? Why on earth would you think that?”
“Because, after everything that went down at the lawyer’s office, she started getting real depressed. Started talking a lot about you hating her. She kept saying over and over again how she did wrong by you and the kids. The next few nights, she drank so hard I had to watch her to make sure she didn’t suffocate on her own vomit while she was passed out. A few days ago, I started seeing the needle marks again.”
Addison slammed her eyes shut to try and stop the far too familiar images from flooding her memories. It’d always been painful to watch her mom fall off the wagon. The first few days were always the worst. She remembered how her mom would take the biggest risks, care the least about consequences, whenever she’d start using again. Almost like in punishment. From standing on the railing of a balcony or daring one of her equally high friends to throw a knife at an apple on her head, Lara found new and increasingly reckless and terrifying ways to self-destruct.
