by ChaShiree M.
My sister's new house is beautiful and from all accounts, so is her relationship. Mikhail is very attentive and dotes on her constantly. I feel immense joy for the happiness she has found, and another emotion I don’t want to examine.
The tension in the room is thick. My brothers are not trying to hide their disapproval of their relationship. It becomes more evident by the conversation that ensues, which brings Phoenix to tears. Nervously, I glance towards Mikhail. As possessive as the man seems to be about her, I expect to see him ready to do battle and I am not wrong. His back has gone ramrod straight and he looks ready to leap across the table to take on all of my brothers for hurting her. However, to my surprise, it is Phoenix that comes to the defense of her relationship. I have never been more proud of her.
When the men leave the room to go talk, I expect Colton to go with them, since he somehow fashions himself involved in this mess. To my utter shock and slight dismay, he stays in the room with us on the other side like he is standing guard. I give up. If he wants to stand there all day, then let him. Giggling a little to myself, I think, ‘at least I will have something nice to look at’.
When the males come out of the office, I can tell some sort of agreement has been made. I am glad. Phoenix deserves to be happy. Or whatever this is.
We leave the party, and to my surprise, he doesn’t try to touch, converse, or anything with me. I don't know why this bothers me, but it does, and I hide it from him. As much as I don’t want to admit that I like being around him, because I feel safe and protected, his quiet aloofness feels somehow like a rejection. How can you be rejected by a person you were trying not to be attached to in the first place?
I must be more tired than I suspect. When he pulls up to my apartment, I thank him and get out of the car before he can be a gentleman by opening the door to walk me up. All in all, I would say the night was a success and I am simply ready for bed. Now if only I can sleep without thinking about Colton.
Waking up this morning feels great. I slept harder than I have in a long time. Maybe it’s because I am not too worried about Phoenix anymore. As the baby of the family, we are all aware that she bore the brunt of our father’s cruelty. She has never told us what happened. But it is in her quiet reservation. The haunting in her eyes and the unsureness she has about herself. I believe Mikhail will change all of that for her.
Getting ready for work is no different than it is every other day, except today is Tuesday. Tuesdays are one of the days I have set aside for home removals. This is the hardest and most dangerous day of the week for me. I hate breaking up families and seeing the children crying for their parents. I can only imagine if I was to have a child how hard it would be to be separated from them and not be able to comfort them. But at the same time, parents who put their children in harm's way don’t deserve them. The precious angels are put on earth for us to guide, lead, raise, adore, and love. I would give anything to be given that kind of opportunity, but it’s not meant for my life and I am ok with that.
Finally, ready for work, I walk to my car. Standing in front of it for a second, I do a quick sweep of the street and my surroundings, exactly like my brothers taught me. I see Gage, Steel, and Blade, who are my three guards’ different times of the week, sometimes all at once like today thanks to Colton. My brothers have their own guards on me, but Colton seems to think his guys would do a better job and sometimes has them watch me too. I nod to acknowledge them. They in turn nod and salute back, letting me know the coast is clear. I get in my car and drive off.
People in this world have no idea about the type of careful existence I have to lead every day. No one I work with knows about my life before or after the compound. Not even when I was kidnapped. My brother’s quick thinking made it, so it seemed we had a family emergency, and that is why I wasn’t able to come into work for a little bit. I often wonder what it would be like to be able to live like everyone else. Without having all the extra cares, worries, and people following me around.
Because I have my caseload memorized, there is no need to go to the office before doing the first extraction. I made a plan yesterday to meet with my police escort on the corner of the block, along with the group home attendee, who will immediately drive the child away once I walk out of the house with him.
My first and only extraction for today is a four-year-old boy named Cole Taylor Smith. It was called in anonymously by a neighbor, who had concerns about the boy’s appearance and the dad’s job of choice. I had his background pulled and the dad is a known drug dealer named Fiero Garcia. His rap sheet is longer than the whole state of New York. The neighbor who called in said when he saw the little boy going from the car to the house, he noticed his little face and arms are covered in bruises. He also looked malnourished and appeared terrified. Those types of warning signs plus with dad’s history is enough for me to move in immediately with a court order.
Making sure my escort in place and ready, the court order in hand and ready to deliver; I knock on the door waiting for a response from someone inside the house. At first, it seems no one is going to answer the door, but then I hear someone barely whispering inside. I knock again.
“I can hear you. Open the door. I’m with the New York Department of Children and Family.” Eventually I can hear the door chain being removed. As soon as the door opens, I am immediately thrown by how menacing he looks. The man makes my father look like the second coming. His hair is long and slicked back in a ponytail. He has tattoos covering every inch of his upper body, including up to his neck. His eyes are black and soulless, and I know down the very fiber of my being that he is abusing his kid. Being in this line of work, you can always tell.
“Hello Mr. Garcia. My name is Miss Ryan. I am here because we received a phone call from a concerned individual about the welfare of your child. A one Cole Taylor Smith age five years old. I have a court order to remove the child from your home pending further investigation.” In no way do I expect complete compliance from him.
The truth is that in these situations, the person or persons under investigation seldom cooperate. What I do not expect is his lack of respect for the police officer with me. When he gets in my face, reaches for me and says, “The fuck you will take anything out of my house. Bitch. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
At this point, the officer has him pinned against the wall, but just barely. Officer Milligan looks at me and says, “Move fast, ma'am. I am not sure how much longer I can hold him before the situation gets ugly.”
Taking that as my cue to move swiftly, I enter the house and look around for the child and to acquaint myself with the living conditions. I extract my camera and begin snapping pictures as I move from room to room. In between snapping photos, I call out for Cole.
“Cole. Cole sweetheart, where are you? My name is Miss Ryan and I am here to help you. Cole, please answer me. I promise I am going to take you out of here. You won’t have to be afraid anymore.”
It isn’t until I am walking towards the back of the house near the restroom that I hear a little voice say, “I’m in here.”
I reach out to open the door of the bathroom, causing my heart to break and soar at the same time instantly. Standing in front of me is the most beautiful little boy I have ever seen. He has dark black hair that is cut a little shaggy giving him a little beach boy look. His eyes have a dull and lifeless look to them. But they are still a beautiful blue that I know will be brilliant when he is at his full health. His face is so delicate and soft; one could almost mistake him for a girl if it weren't for the definition of his chin. The poor boy is covered in bruises and I can make out his ribs as well.
“Hello Cole.” I say to him kneeling down. “My name is Miss Ryan. I am here to take you somewhere safe. Would you like that?”
He looks at me as if he doesn’t believe I can and will take him out of here. It’s imperative not to break eye contact, while I slowly move to extend my arms, letting him know I will hold him the whole way out the door. He nods slight
ly and says, “Yes, please.”
Choking back a sob at the injustice, I pick this precious little angel up and walk to the front door. I immediately see another officer has arrived, and the situation is quickly escalating.
“I’m going to get you, you fat bitch. That is my son. No one takes from Fiero and lives to tell about it. Don’t worry Cole. Daddy’s gonna get you back.”
I try to cover his ears as best I can on the walk to the car. We finally make it to the group home vehicle where Carrigan gets out of the car and introduces herself to Cole. Then she explains to him what is going to happen.
My heart lurches when she extracts him from my arms. It feels as if a piece of me is calling out for this motherless boy. I know deep inside it's because I need him as much as he needs me. This is the part of my job that hurts down deep in my soul. The letting go of each and every child each time takes a small piece out of my heart.
Before I can walk away from him, I give him my card and tell him to have the home call me anytime day or night if he needs something. He cripples me though when he asks, “Will you come and visit me?”
Logically, I know I should say no. There are so many kids I have removed from these types of homes that If I went and saw all of them, I would never have time for anything else. But there is something about Cole that makes me say, “Of course I will sweetie. I will come and see you soon. I promise.” I kiss his cheek and the car pulls off.
On the drive back to work, I call in the incident to my boss. He informs me the rest of the story concerning the boy’s life. His mom died a year ago of an overdose and his dad has been booked, but never jailed for dealing. He is a felon from a while ago, but they could never make anything stick.
Making it into the office, I go directly to mine to write up the whole incident and make the appropriate copies for each department. For the rest of the day I make follow-up appointments and schedule court dates for other cases. Before I know it, it’s 4:30 and I need to leave if I am going to meet my sisters for a shopping trip. We are going to help Phoenix find something to wear for this society thing she has to go to with Mikhail.
On the way to the car, one of my best friends from work calls. I expected it once she heard about the threat. Ashlei is a hot mess. She can sometimes be scary, and stuff like this never happens to her.
“Hey chica. How are you?”
“Don’t chica me, you heffa. Why did I have to hear from Ace what happened at your removal this morning?” Geesh. My boss has a gigantic mouth.
“Ash, calm down. It happens all the time. All he did was shout out a few threats, call me a fat bitch, and in the end, I still got what I came for. I know he is a scary dealer and all, but….”
“Who the FUCK threatened you Kea?” Oh shit. I turn around startled to see Colton standing behind me.
“What? Oh. No one. It was nothing, Colton. There is nothing for you to worry about.” I turn around and finish going towards my car with Ashlei in my ear making obscenely suggestive comments, about the fact that Colton is here. I don’t see it coming when he takes my phone from my hands, hangs it up, and backs me into the side of my car.
“How many fucking times do I have to tell you, you belong to me? You seem to have a problem believing it. Is it because I haven’t fucked you yet? Is that it? Trust me. I can think of nothing else I would rather do. But I am trying to give you time to catch up. But shit like this is not helping you little one. Knowing that someone threatened my woman has my blood boiling and my veins demanding action. It would definitely be OK with the action from between those thick and juicy thighs baby. So, keep brushing me off, and see what happens when I decide to show you. Now tell me who the fuck threatened you.”
He says all of this with his mouth to my ear and his breath on my neck. The moment he backed me against the car and came down on me like that my brain immediately turned to mush. Even now, I am staring at him and licking my lips silently begging him to kiss me. I don’t realize I said it out loud until he says, “It’s about fuckin’ time.”
He slams his mouth on mine, and I go up in flames. My whole body lights up and wants everything he has promised. I grab the front of his shirt and kiss him back with all the desperation I feel. He licks the seam of my mouth demanding I open and let him in, and I do without a second thought because right now in this moment, this man is all I can see, hear, or think of now.
The way his tongue goes in and claims mine can be deemed nothing but dominant. A claiming. He in turns sucks my tongue into his mouth, and I swear my panties melt right off. I rub myself against him trying to find some sort of release, as he makes fucking in and out motions with tongue. Both of his hands are caressing me as they slide down my side. He lifts me so my legs go around his waist and lines me up with is dick. I know, because my pussy is purring, and she never does that.
“I know baby. I know. Soon, I promise. But I have to make sure you’re ready for everything it means when it happens. Shh...calm down little one.” He says steadily. He slowly kisses me back to my senses, but not letting me down. When I have finally come back from wherever the hell I’ve gone, he slowly lets me down and asks again.
“Tell me who it is baby.” Finally remembering what started all of this in the first place, and having a vague recollection of my reaction to him, I grab my keys looking him in his eye and tell him no.
“No, Colton. It's an aspect of my job. Everything is fine. I gotta go.”
Although I have a sneaking suspicion all I am doing is avoiding the inevitable; I drive away, slowly realizing I am leaving my heart with him.
Chapter 3
Colton
What. The. Fuck. I am beyond pissed and frustrated right now. Some fucking drug dealer is threatening my lady, and because she won’t tell me who it is, I can’t do a fucking thing about it. Which brings me to the frustrating part. Kea’s little ass keeps running from me and that shit is getting old. I asked the guys I had on her, but apparently once the officer met her, they backed off, so they don't know where she went. Fucking slackers
I know from the months I spent watching her, before the abduction, that she doesn’t date. It’s not another man. I know almost all there is to know about her, except for her medical history. Somehow that felt...wrong to go snooping into shit like that. But something is keeping her from me, and I will be damned if I do this dance for long.
The two times I’ve had her up against something, she looks at me with split needs. One need is demanding I walk away and leave her be. Fuck if that will ever happen. The other need, which is the one I answered is begging me to take her. Each time I can smell her sweet pussy leaking for me. The dripping of her sticky hot and wet pussy going down her luscious thick legs is taunting me. Daring me to finally take her and make her mine. I want nothing more than to drop to my knees and lick every inch of her thighs. Making sure not one drop is missed, until she begs and mewls at me to raise my head higher and lick the place that matters the most. And no, I am not referring to her heart.
Shit. This train of thought is fucked right now. I have to head over to Vultan and Vuolo’s safehouse to see about the 16-year-old girl I rescued last week. Remembering how I found her on her knees with a bloody nose, while some dead fuck was abusing her throat, makes me want to go nuclear. There are some sick fucks out there, and that is how my merry band of brothers and I found each other.
Vultan, Vuolo, Santiago, and Ghost had their own little faction of renegades. Remarkably, we ran across each other on a job taking down the same company but rescuing different girls. Blade, Steele, Gage, and I were in the forty-six together over in Russia trying to extract some foreign dignitary, that had no business being there, when we came across a silent auction. At this auction they were not auctioning off artwork. We quickly realized what was really going on, and without another word to one another we began cleaning house. Afterwards our mission was formed.
When we ran into the twins and their crew, we decided to stay separate but combine resources and agendas. It is more ef
ficient, economical, and you deal with less egos. When I make it to the safehouse and pass the 200 different security clearances we have to go through, Ghost greets me at the door with the file on the girl. Her name is Heather Brynne Stevens, 16, runaway. Parents reported her missing six months ago.
“Good work. Has the family been notified?”
“Yeah, I called them. They are on their way. The girl hasn’t said much. She mainly stares off into space, unless someone mentions the other girls or Lucifer. Then she gets scared and starts humming.”
Yeah, it’s usually how they are when we get to them. All screwed up and shit. We offer to pay for a year of therapy. Some families take us up on it and others decide they want to deal with it themselves.
“OK. I’ll go see if she will talk to me. Anything else I need to know?” He rubs his hands through his head. For Ghost this is a tell-tale sign that he is about to deliver bad news and wishes someone else could do it. At this point, I get the feeling that my day is gonna go from bad to worse.
“Spill it, Ghost. I don’t have all day.”
“Interpol caught Damien entering the U.S. It appears he bought a ticket for New York and is set to land in the next two days.”
FUCK.
What the fuck is that bastard doing back here? This is the last thing I need right now. God damn it. I better call Tessalyn. Son of a bitch. I should have killed the slimy no good motherfucker when I had the chance. It’s OK though. This time I won’t show mercy.
“Thanks for the update. We got someone on him?”
“Yea, my guy Skip is on him. Trust me, he won’t get away this time.” Yeah, here’s hoping. Instead of sounding ungrateful, I thank him and go see about Heather. I hate when I go in to see them and they look withdrawn and confused. It’s mostly from coming down off the drugs, but to me every time I see one it is still unsettling.
