Caleb (The Unseen Series Book 1)

by K. M. Thompson

  Logan gives me a tight smile before turning his attention to Grayson. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yeah,” Grayson replies. “It was just to quickly to tell you, one of the senior executives has had to take a leave of absence.”

  “Why?” he asks, fiddling with a pencil on Grayson’s desk. I have to stifle a laugh as Grayson’s jaw clenches so tightly. I’m surprised his teeth haven’t crumbled.

  “It has something to do with his daughter being abducted,” Grayson responds and looks to me, images of Molly instantly fill my mind.

  “This has to do with me because...” Logan’s brow furrows and he places the pencil back on Grayson’s desk.

  “I need you to take over for him until he returns,” he replies, picking up the pencil and placing it back in its rightful place.

  “Can’t Caleb do it?” Logan asks.

  “I’m not in security anymore,” I point out.

  “Neither am I,” Logan counters. “I’m extremely busy. I’m sorry Grayson, but I can’t.”

  “Not a problem, we can deal without him. Hopeful his daughter turns up alive. He’ll want bereavement leave if she’s dead,” Grayson mutters and then looks contrite at how insensitive he’s being.

  “He should have had protection for her then, shouldn’t he?” Logan shrugs, being as equally insensitive but not at all embarrassed before turning to walk out the door. I watch as he walks away looking like the cat that got the cream. I wonder what he finds so amusing.

  “Caleb,” Grayson’s voice pulls my attention from my youngest brother’s back.

  “What?” I snap my head around toward him.

  “You wanted advice?” he asks.

  “Never mind, I’ve got to go,” I say and walk toward the door, calling over my shoulder as I leave, “I’ll talk to you later.”

  As I’m leaving the building, I decide I don’t really want to go home to a large empty house, so instead I take another trip back to Fort Lincoln. I park in front of SJ’s building and head up the stairs. A stale smell lingers, but it’s not as potent as it was. I knock on the door and wait but after a few minutes, there’s no answer. An Indian woman comes out from the apartment next door, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “Can I help you with something?” she asks, sounding a little pissed off and like I’ve interrupted something.

  “I’m looking for SJ,” I reply in a calm tone.

  “Who are you?” she asks, still extremely suspicious.

  “I’m Caleb Slate, a friend of SJ’s.”

  “Ah, so you’re Mr. Slate, the man who is kicking sixty children out onto the street,” she snipes.

  “That’s enough, Rita.” SJ’s voice comes from behind us.

  “So now you’re friends with this man?” She turns on SJ.

  “I suppose I am,” SJ replies simply.

  “He’s the enemy!” Rita shouts.

  “No he’s not,” SJ says soothingly and puts her arm around her friend. “Life is the enemy, we are all just players in its game.”

  “Whatever SJ, but don’t come crying to me when you and the twins are on the street and this man—who could have prevented it—is nowhere to be seen.” Rita concedes and I feel something in my chest, a tightening in the place my heart should be.

  “I have beef.” SJ smiles and waves a blood stained plastic bag in the air.

  “How many times have I told you not to take free stuff from that sleazy boss of yours? One day SJ, he’s going to want to be paid back. I see the way he looks at you and touches you.” Rita shudders.

  “I’ll deal with that when ‘one day’ comes, but right now, we can eat.” SJ’s smile is huge and my chest tightens again. “Beef stew sound good?”

  “How old is the beef?” Rita asks.

  “Its just beginning to turn but as long as it’s thoroughly cooked, it’s still edible,” SJ responds and I don’t think I can listen to too much more of this conversation. “Can you start doing the rounds and find out who wants food tonight, that way Caleb and I can start cooking.”

  My head snaps around to meet her stare. “I-I can’t cook,” I sputter.

  Her laughter relieves the tightness in my chest. “You just need to help. Come on rich boy.” She chuckles and we go into her apartment.

  “My cooking skills are limited to boiled eggs,” I state.

  “Can you measure water and mix ingredients?” I nod and she pats me on the shoulder. “Then you’ll be just fine.”

  She pulls a bag of flour out of the cupboard and hands it to me. “I don’t know what to do with that.”

  “Just add water,” she smiles.

  I look at the packet—it’s a white bread mix and a very cheap brand at that. “Isn’t it cheaper to buy bread?”

  “No, besides we’re making rolls,” she says as she busies herself in the kitchen, if you could call it that.

  “Why are you making dinner for everyone?” I eventually ask. “Why not cut the beef up and freeze some of it?”

  “It’s almost the first of the month,” she says.

  “What does that have to with anything?”

  “It’s when the rent is due, most of the residents are worrying more about keeping the roof over their head,” she explains and I realize this is the choice she was talking about the last time I was here.

  “Isn’t there a soup kitchen or food bank around here?” I ask.

  “Yeah but we prefer to let the more unfortunate people eat. We have a roof over our heads, which is more than could be said for others. They need the food more. Besides, we’re kind of our own little community in here and we help each other out. We’re all in the same boat after all,” she says and for some unknown reason, it makes a hell of a lot of sense.

  “So, how many people are we cooking for?”

  “A hundred and two people live in the building,” she says and my mouth drops open.

  “This will never feed them all,” I gasp.

  “Not everyone will need it, so don’t worry.”

  At that moment, Rita comes in without knocking. “Seventy-two portions.”

  I put the bread mix on the counter and head for the door. “Where are you going?” SJ calls after me.

  “Don’t start without me. I’ll be back in a minute,” I say and head out the door. I park the car and head into the nearest superstore, going straight to the meat counter. “Can I help you sir?”

  “I’m feeding seventy-two people from a tiny kitchenette in about an hour, I need your help,” I say to the pimply-faced teenager behind the counter. The poor boy looks like I just asked him the million dollar question.

  “Umm... maybe sausage and mash?” he suggests.

  “That’s a really good idea, easy to make and hard to fuck up,” I say while trying to do the math in my head. Seventy-two people, having three sausages each equals two hundred and sixteen. “I need two hundred and thirty sausages, please.”

  “I’ve got to go out back and get them, give me a minute,” he says. When he comes back, he’s bagged them up and hands them to me.

  “Thank you,” I say and go in search of potatoes. By the time I’ve found the stock to make gravy, I’m regretting not grabbing a cart. I pay and rush back to SJ’s, almost dropping everything as I walk into her apartment.

  “What’s all that?” she asks, completely stunned.

  “Sausages,” I state.

  “I can see that,” she says before furrowing her brow. “Why do you have sausages?”

  “That beef wouldn’t have fed seventy-two people,” I answer. “I’ve got potatoes too, for mashed potatoes.”

  “You didn’t need to do that,” she says quietly and looks at Rita.

  “What do you want in return?” Rita asks, the suspicious tone is back in her voice.

  “Nothing,” I reply.

  “Nothing is ever free, there is always a price to pay,” she says to me. She has a faraway look in here eyes, it seems more like she’s remembering something and speaking from experience.

  “I don
’t want anything in return. SJ mentioned that some of the residents forgo eating so they can pay their rent next week,” I explain. “That beef wouldn’t have fed more than ten of you, not a proper sized meal anyway.”

  “Thank you Caleb,” SJ says as she picks up the sausages but something has shifted and she won’t meet my eye.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” I say and head toward the door.

  SJ sees me out but still hasn’t raised her eyes to meet mine. “Have you thought anymore about going out with me Saturday?”

  “I won’t be able to let you know until Saturday,” she replies, still looking at the floor.

  I place two fingers under her chin, lifting her head up. “Look at me please?” Her eyes finally lock on mine, but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Shame, embarrassment, uncertainty, anger, and sadness. I can’t help it, it happens before I realize. My head lowers to hers as I gently brush my lips across hers. I feel her quick breaths on my lips and it spurs me on. I lean in and capture her mouth, my tongue seeking entry into the warmth of hers. A cough from behind us pulls me back. I look up to see Rita glaring at me from the kitchen.

  “I told you nothing was free, everything has a price.” Rita scoffs and turns around. SJ opens the door and I leave. It isn’t until I’m in my car that I realize what Rita meant by her comment. I also realized Rita was definitely talking from experience. At some point in her life, she had to do something in exchange for food. I just hope it’s not what I think it is. I think about the way SJ wouldn’t look at me. Did she think I wanted something from her in return for the food?

  Chapter 5

  “Rita, will you calm down? I’m sure Caleb didn’t mean it like that,” I say while cooking the sausages and trying to convince my friend that Caleb is genuine. God, I hope he is or I’m going to look like a complete idiot.

  “He wants to get you into bed, SJ. He’s trying to buy his way in,” she replies.

  “Well I’ve got news for you, he doesn’t need to buy his way in.” I smirk.

  “SJ! You did not just say that,” she admonishes me.

  “Hey, I’m human and he’s hot. You can’t blame a girl for fantasizing,” I reply, fanning my face. “He asked me out to dinner. I think he might like me,” I tell her hesitantly.

  “You silly girl,” she mutters under her breath.

  “If you have something to say Rita, don’t be shy,” I snap.

  “He will get you into bed, take your innocence and leave you without looking back,” she says. I know she’s only being a friend, but that really hurt. “What about Mitch and Maddie? Does he know the story? What will he do when he finds out you’ve lied?”

  I can’t help it, I cry like a baby. Rita wraps her arms around me and apologizes for being so blunt. She has nothing to be sorry for, everything she said is probably the truth.

  “So you don’t think I should go out with him then?” I ask.

  “What did you say when he asked you?”

  “That I might have to work and I’d let him know on Saturday.”

  “If he calls before Saturday, don’t go out with him,” she says.

  “Huh, why?”

  “If he calls before Saturday, it means he’s got a table booked and if he can’t take you to dinner, he has plenty of time to find someone else to take. If he waits until Saturday, then he’s been waiting all week to hear from you and most likely doesn’t have anyone else to take out,” she tells me.

  “You really think so?”

  “Yes. I can’t promise that it means he’s serious about you, but it’s a start.” She smiles.

  “Thanks Rita. It all depends on if any overtime comes up anyway.”

  “If he calls before Saturday then you can take the overtime, but if he doesn’t, you at least have one night to enjoy yourself before everything goes to pot.”

  “Great, thanks, Rita,” I chuckle.

  ***

  Everyone was over the moon with the sausage and mash. They couldn’t believe how big the portions were. We split the sausages into two groups and froze half of them for tomorrow night, doing the same thing with the potatoes. Claire offered to wash up the pans so Rita and I could eat while our food was still hot and I have to admit, Caleb picked some good sausages. Unfortunately, the rest of the night was a complete disaster.

  “It’s bed time,” I tell the children.

  “But Mommy, we don’t want to,” they moan.

  “Bed. Now.” I point to the bedroom to emphasize my point. They eventually drag their feet toward the room.

  “Can we have a story?” Maddie asks sweetly.

  “Maddison Louise Tanner, get to bed now. You already stayed up past your bedtime, had a glass of water and have been to the toilet twice. You promised me you would go straight to sleep when I told you it was bedtime if I allowed you to stay up late. Well it won’t be happening again, that’s for sure,” I tell her. I hate saying no but I have to be consistent. I need to prove I’m perfectly capable of raising children and not letting them walk all over me.

  “Fine!” she yells with tears streaming down her face. “I hate you!” she continues before running the rest of the way to the bedroom.

  “Maddie!” I call after her. When she doesn’t return, I go into the room. She’s lying on the mattress with the quilt over her head, crying her little heart out. “Maddie, can you come out please?” She doesn’t come out from under her covers, so I talk to her anyway. “You made me a promise that if you stayed up, you would go straight to sleep when I told you to.”

  “I just wanted a story,” she sniffles.

  “But having a story wouldn’t be going straight to sleep, would it?”

  “You’re talking to me now though,” she replies, poking her head out from its hiding place.

  “Yes and you should be going to sleep. When you make a promise, you should keep it or next time you make a promise, I won’t know whether to believe you. Do you understand what I’m saying?” I ask.

  “Not really,” she says, screwing up her face.

  “What if I promised to buy you a new doll and then I didn’t get it for you. How would you feel?”

  “Sad.”

  “And what if I promised again and still didn’t get it. Would you believe me if I made the same promise again after that?”

  “No, I’d think you were telling a lie,” she says and then seems to think about this for a moment. “You will think I’m telling a lie next time, won’t you?”

  “If you go to sleep, then I won’t,” I say and kiss her on the top of her head.

  “I’m sorry, Mommy. I don’t hate you. I love you as big as the world,” she says and wraps her arms around my waist.

  “Apology accepted. I’m sorry I lost my temper and shouted. I love you as big as the world too, Maddie, more than you’ll ever know. Now, close your eyes and go to sleep,” I say and turn to Mitchell who is lying at the other end of the mattress. “I love you as big as the world too, Mitch.”

  “I love you too, Mommy. Goodnight,” he replies and turns on his side. I bend down and kiss the top of his head, before turning out the light and leaving the room.

  ***

  At some point during the evening, I laid down on the sofa with a book and must have dosed off. I’m woken by a loud banging on the door. I ignore it at first, but when the banging continues, I get up.

  “Freaking plumbers. Waking me up and telling me when to use the bathroom. I’m going to give them a piece of my mind,” I mumble to myself as I shuffle toward the door. “What? Oh Rita, I’m sorry,” I say rubbing my eyes. “What time is it? Are you okay? The kids?”

  “Jake’s been trying to call you. When you didn’t answer, he called me,” she tells me. Shit, I really didn’t need this tonight.

  I let Rita in and search for my phone. “I’m sorry, it’s still on silent from when I was at work.” I check the screen and Rita was right—Jake has called me fourteen times.

  “Don’t worry, do you want me to help you with the twins?” she asks. />
  “Yes please. I’ll just grab a bag of things for them,” I say as I go into the cupboard and grab their toothbrushes, I then grab them clean underwear and a set of clothes each. “I’m so sorry about this.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she says and then grabs both of my shoulders. “SJ, it’s not your fault.”

  “I really thought this time—”

  “I know you did,” she interrupts me. “He fell off the wagon, SJ. He’s the one who continues to make the choice to give up his sobriety.”

  “But if I didn’t hide the twins from him—”

  “They’d be exposed to an abusive alcoholic Father,” she reasons with me and I sigh in defeat. “Come on, let’s get the twins to my place and then you can go and help Ken.”

  “Thank you so much,” I say and squeeze my best friend hard. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”