Against the Rules (Liberty Cove Book 1)

by Julia Black

  One more load? Of what? “Do you want help?” The words were out before I could stop them.

  She stared at me with wide eyes. “No. It’s just empty boxes, for the move. I can do it myself. Thanks, though.”

  Kiera turned around, and holding Luana’s hand, the both of them turned into the stairs and disappeared from my sight.

  I stared at the closed door, suddenly wishing I didn’t know what was going on behind it. If I hadn’t known, if they moved out and I hadn’t seen it … it would have been so much easier. Now that I knew? I didn’t know … I didn’t know how I felt about it.

  Feeling like I was lugging a one thousand pound boulder, I dragged my feet to my apartment. I skipped dinner, I skipped a shower. I simply threw myself on my bed and willed sleep to come and take me.

  ***

  Josh

  “Josh, have you been sleeping well?” Jane, one of the nurses at the emergency center, asked.

  I glanced from the chart in front of me to her. “What?”

  “Have you been sleeping well? Because you’ve been looking tired. And, dare I say, you’ve been grumpy.”

  Weren’t she an older lady with a gentle smile and a caring hand, I would have barked at her. But she was right. I wasn’t sleeping well, not since Kiera told me to stay away from her and Luana last Sunday.

  And seeing them yesterday and the boxes spread across their apartment was the nail in the coffin. Last night I hadn’t slept at all.

  But last night wasn’t just because of Kiera and Luana. It had also been because of the damn email I had sent and was frantically checking my inbox for a reply.

  After realizing Kiera and Luana were moving out, something tugged at me. It was like I had a heavy ball of steel inside me, and I had to get it off. Now. So I had meditated—yes, meditated—in my living room for a long time, trying to reach down to my darkest days and find how could I get rid of the damn ball weighting me down and making it difficult to breath. I had heard a thousand times that the best way to get past an issue was to face it head on.

  So in the depths of my soul I went. And, after breathing hard for a long time, reliving all my desperate, lonely, hurtful days, I realized I had something holding me back. I had saved Grace that one night—and punched a woman, something I would never forgive myself for—but then we had been separated and I never heard from her again.

  Had she been placed in a good home next? Had she made it out of the system okay? Was she even alive?

  So, I went online and found out the social worker who handled my case, and Grace’s. Ms. Lillian Monroe was still working. I found her email and sent her a quick note asking about Grace. That had been at ten last night. It was one in the afternoon, and I hadn’t heard back yet.

  I had been a zombie all week, but today was the worst one yet. Perhaps it was the culmination of it all. The nights and days without Kiera and Luana and the anxiety from waiting on Ms. Monroe’s email. If she emailed me back.

  Finally, a little before three in the afternoon, I got a reply.

  Hello Mr. Wolfe,

  I’m glad to know you’re doing well.

  Last I knew, Grace Miller is doing fine. She was adopted right after the incident at the Kellan’s house.

  I can’t give you Grace’s address, but I can tell you she’s on Facebook.

  I wish you the best,

  Lillian Monroe

  That was all I needed to know—Miller. Grace’s new last name was Miller, and now I could find her.

  I quickly logged onto my forgotten Facebook account and searched for her. There were dozens of Grace Millers, and even though it had been five years, I would recognize her picture anywhere.

  I clicked on her profile and sent her a private message. Now the waiting began again.

  In the message, I gave her my phone number so I wouldn’t need to keep checking Facebook. Not half an hour later, my phone vibrated—right when I was with a patient and couldn’t even touch it.

  It took a lot of restraint and professionalism to get through the appointment without caving in. But as soon as I exited the examination room, I fished my phone from my pocket and check the new message.

  Grace: OMG! I can’t believe you found me! Yes, I would love to see you.

  Then she told me her address and that she would be home only until seven—then she was going to the movies with friends.

  I rushed out of work at five and drove across town to see her.

  She was waiting for me on the front steps of the nice townhouse she lived with her family—parents and another adopted sister two years younger.

  My hands trembled as I parked my car and walked out to meet her. Smiling, she stood. Then, she ran to me and embraced me tight.

  “I thought I would never see you again,” she whispered.

  A stone clogged my throat and no words, nothing, came out. I just held her to me, relieved and happy that she was fine.

  I pulled back and looked at her. She was turning out into a pretty looking girl. “It looks like you turned out okay.”

  “You too,” she said.

  We set on the steps and talked and talked and talked. About everything. Our terrible years in foster care, her lucky chance to be adopted, her wonderful family, my college experience and med school. I even told her about Kiera and Luana—of course I didn’t tell a fifteen year old about how Kiera and I met and the nature of our relationship, or rather the beginning of it, but I told Grace how I missed Kiera and Luana, how it was hard to know they were just two doors away. And that they were moving soon.

  “It sounds like you’re in love.”

  I snorted. “Yeah … I know.” I glanced at her. “How about you? I know you’re young, but I remember having crushes at your age.”

  She smiled. “I kinda have … someone.” Her cheeks gained a red tint. “We’re not serious yet, but I think he likes me.”

  “Just don’t let guys treat you badly,” I warned. “Girls should be treated with respect, and love.”

  Her smile faded. “Everyone should be treated with love and respect.”

  I nodded. “True.” I stared at her, amused at how well she looked. At her age, I was a mess. But then again, she had been adopted many years ago and lived with a good family. “Do you think about the past?”

  “I do. More than I should. But every time, it seems like I’m going to have a panic attack, I remember the Miller’s saved me and that I’m okay, I have been okay, more than okay, for almost ten years.”

  “That’s great.”

  She looked at the darkening sky above us. “I want to be a social worker,” she confessed in a low voice. “I want to pay it forward. Ms. Monroe helped us a lot, when she could, and because of many great social workers, I was adopted.” She returned her gaze to me. “I don’t care if I won’t ever be rich and have nice cars or whatever. I’ll be rich in here.” She put a hand over her heart. “I’ll help other kids, exactly how I wish you and I and many other could have been helped.”

  I reached over and clasped her hand. “I’m proud of the amazing young lady you’re turning out to be.”

  Her cheeks reddened again. She tugged on my hand. “Come on. I want you to meet my parents and my sister.”

  “But what about your movie?”

  She stood. “The movie theater will still be there tomorrow. Right now I want to catch up with you.”

  I smiled at her, glad I had looked for her. “All right.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Kiera

  Inside Out ended.

  “I love that movie,” Luana said with a happy sigh.

  I ran my hand through her pretty curls. Her head was on my legs, and her feet were over the sofa’s arms on the other side of the couch. She was getting big, too big.

  “Me too,” I said. “Okay, it’s late. Remember what I said? The movie would end, it would be way past your bedtime, so go brush your teeth and get ready for bed fast.”

  “Aw, mommy.” She puckered her lips in that way only her knew how to
do. “I’m not sleepy.”

  I chuckled. “Of course you are. Besides, it’s Sunday. You have class tomorrow morning. I shouldn’t have let you stayed up so late.”

  “But I’m not sleepy,” she repeated.

  I picked her up in my arms and set her down. “I don’t want to argue with you, okay? Go, baby.”

  Her pout became ever bigger. “You’re no fun.”

  I snorted. “Ha, I’m a mother. Of course I’m no fun.”

  She stomped to the bathroom and I went to the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of wine and glanced around. Most of the boxes were closed already, shoved into the corners of the apartment, most of them with things we didn’t use every day, like extra plates and pots and towels and winter clothes. This week I had seen about ten apartments and none of them were much better than here. Actually, most were much worse. For the price I could pay, I wouldn’t find a hidden treasure somewhere.

  I sighed, knowing I had to decide on one and just move. Because counting the minutes and looking at the clock every time I had to leave my apartment, hoping I wouldn’t bump into Josh was too much. It made me tense and anxious and sad. It turned my stomach and made me want to breakdown and cry again. The sooner we left, the sooner I would be able to start forgetting about him, the sooner I would be able to focus solely on Luana.

  I took a sip and set my wine glass down, intent on going to check on Luana and hurry her up, but the envelope beside the glass caught my attention. I ran my fingertips over the envelope.

  Now that had been a surprise.

  A couple of days after running into my mother at the D’Angie & Co. and helping her buy the most expensive gift on the wedding registry of her maid’s daughter, she had mailed me an envelope . Inside was a bank statement for a college fund which had been opened four years ago in Luana’s name. With the amount of money in that fund, Luana could even go to an Ivy League, and I wouldn’t have to worry about scholarships or loans. Hell, she could later go for a masters degree and PHD with that money.

  My first reaction was to refuse. In fact, I called the house and talked to my mother. She insisted there was nothing I could do about it. I could be mad all I wanted, the money would still go toward Luana’s education. In the end, I simply thanked her. And she surprised me some more.

  “I told your father I ran into you the other day,” she said through the phone. “And I talked to him about having you two over one of these days. For dinner or afternoon tea. Your choice.”

  I was speechless for a long, long time. Something in my chest loosened and tears blurred my vision as I answered, “I would like that.”

  That had been three days ago and we hadn’t spoken since. But after four years of silence, we had already spoken twice in a week. That was progress.

  I let out a long, relieved sigh and went to check on my girl.

  Just as I was crossing the living room, she exited the bathroom, her hand over her stomach. “Mommy, I don’t feel so good.”

  I rushed to her. “What happened, baby?”

  Her eyebrows were pinched, and her lips turned down. “It just hurts.”

  I caught her by the shoulders and helped her sit down at the couch. “What hurts?”

  “My stomach.”

  I thought back about what we ate today. Ice cream, pizza, fruits for snack, rice and chicken, waffles for breakfast—nothing unusual.

  “Did you eat something I don’t know?” I asked, trying to understand. “Did you steal chocolate from the bowl? How many?”

  “No, I didn’t eat any chocolate today.” She let out a whine and my heart squeezed. God, I hated seeing her like this.

  “Oh, baby.”

  After another howl, Luana started crying. Big, fat tears and ugly sobbing. “Mommy, it hurts.”

  I pondered calling 911 or just taking her to the emergency center myself. I decided for the latter. I went to pick her up, but she pushed my hands away. “No, mommy, it hurts more.”

  Shit.

  “Hang in there, baby.” I reached for my phone, intent on calling 911. But there was nothing they could do for her right now. An idea hit me, and I embraced it even though I knew it probably wasn’t the best idea. “Baby, can you stay here alone for two seconds? I’m gonna call Josh.”

  “Yes, mommy. Bring Josh, please,” she cried out in between sobs. “I need Josh.”

  With my phone in hand, I rushed out of the apartment and banged on Josh’s door.

  A moment later, the door flew open.

  “Jesus …” He stopped and looked at me with wide eyes. “What happened?”

  “It’s Luana.”

  Josh just acted. He picked up his doctor bag from the dining table and, barefoot, he hurried past me and into my apartment. I quickly closed the door to his apartment, then followed him into mine.

  “I’m gonna lay you down, okay, sweetie?” he said to Luana as he gently grabbed her shoulders and pushed down to the couch. I stood behind the couch, watching them with my heart in my throat. Mothers should come with one super power: to be able to take the pain away from their kids. “I’m gonna lift your PJ a little, okay?” Luana mumbled a yes, then cried some more. He pulled her pajamas up to her ribs and started touching her belly with gentle fingers. “Where does it hurt?”

  “Everywhere,” she said, her voice breaking with another sob.

  I squeezed my phone. “Should I call 911?”

  “No,” Luana croaked. “Josh can take care of me.”

  “I’ll do what I can, sweetie, but if I can find what’s wrong, we’ll have to take you to the emergency center, okay?”

  She nodded and he resumed examining her. Her heartbeat, her breathing, her eyes, her ears … nothing seemed to be wrong.

  “Mommy,” she called me while Josh assessed her belly again.

  I leaned over the couch. “Yes, baby.”

  “Come here, please.” She gestured to the other side of the couch, where Josh was.

  I reached down and took her hand on mine. “I’m right here.”

  She pulled me so I would walk around the couch. “Here, please. I want you closer.”

  A chill snaked down my spine.

  Trembling, I rounded the couch and knelt on the floor beside Josh. “Is this better, baby?”

  Luana glanced at us. Then she sat up and smiled at us. “Yes. I’m all better now.”

  I gaped at her. “What …”

  Josh chuckled. “You sneaky girl.”

  Her smile widened. “Did it work?”

  “What worked?” I asked, my voice raising. What the hell was going on?

  Josh turned to me. That was when I noticed less than one inch separated us. Self-conscious, I started retreating, but Luana grabbed my shoulder and tugged me back in place.

  “No,” she said. “You stay right there.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Josh sighed. “She faked the pain so you would bring me over.”

  I gaped at my kid again. “You did what?”

  Still smiling, Luana shrugged. “You wouldn’t invite him over anymore, so I guessed you two had broken up.”

  “You … what?”

  “Sorry. But now he’s here and you two can make up!”

  I had no words.

  Beside me, Josh let out another chuckle.

  I glared at him. “You think this is funny? She almost gave me a heart attack.”

  Luana stood. “If you want, you can ground me right now for it. I’ll go to my bedroom and I won’t leave until you two make up. Deal?”

  I still had no words for how sneaky and devious and smart this kid was. I might not have agreed with her plan, but the fact that she had come up with it boggled my mind. “You’re in so much trouble.”

  She sauntered to her bedroom. “It’s okay. As long as you too make up. Later.” She waved at us before disappearing inside and closing the door.

  I turned back to Josh, my eyes seething. “Were you in on this?”

  He raised his hands in a peace offering. “I swear I wasn
’t.” Then he stared at me, his eyes softening. “But I’m glad about it.” Groaning, I pushed the floor and stood. Standing too, Josh reached for me. “Kiera …”

  I took one large step away from him. “Don’t Kiera me.”

  “Please, we need to talk.”

  I crossed my arms. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Bullshit,” he said, advancing on me. I retreated, until the kitchen’s tall bar was pressing against my back. “Tell me you don’t think about me. Tell me you haven’t been missing me, missing us.” He leaned into me, his powerful body looming over mine. “Because I am. I think about you and Luana all the time, and I miss you both.” His breath washed over my lips. He was so, so close. “Tell me you haven’t, that you don’t, and I will leave and I swear I won’t ever bother you again.”

  “Josh …” I put my hands on his chest, but instead of pushing him away, I felt the muscles underneath his t-shirt, and my hands froze, lost in him.

  Taking advantage of my hesitation, he dipped into me and whispered in my ear, “Josh what?”

  My breath caught. “Don’t do this.”

  “Don’t do what?” He nipped at my ear. “This?” He grazed his tongue on my neck. “Or this?”

  “Please …”

  “Please what?”

  Strong hands like desire gripped my core and I struggled not to melt into it, into him. Finally, I cleared my mind from the fog and pushed him back. “Stop this.”

  He didn’t fight me. He stood back, giving me space. “Then tell me. Tell me to my face that I imagined it, that I’m alone in this.”

  “Imagined what?”

  “Your feelings. That you like me as much as I like you. That … you’re falling for me just as I am falling for you.”

  I stared at him. He … was falling for me?

  I swallowed down, needing time to process it all, to find a way to ignore my feelings and his feelings and follow my plan, my rules. “Don’t say that. We can’t do this. I can’t do this.”

  “Because of Luana? I get that. I understand and support you, but … please, give me a chance. Let me prove to you that I love that kid and that I would never, ever hurt her.”