Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
A small smile appears on my face. “Okay, then. We’ll find you a job.”
He nods, then asks, “How’d it go with Tahlia?”
The little shi-
He knows I can’t answer that.
Putting on my poker face, I say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He grins, “Yes, you do. Her court thingy was today. And you’re her case worker.”
I shrug casually. “If you want to know anything about Tahlia, I suggest you ask Tahlia.”
Michael’s face turns dreamy. “She’s a hottie. I see her around school, but I never get a chance to talk to her. And I’d like to.”
That’s so sweet. My poker face starts to crumble, “Well, maybe you should make an effort. Ask her out. Go to a movie or something.”
His face becomes stoic. “The only time I’ll ask a girl out is when I can take care of her. And right now, I can’t. So dating isn’t an option.”
God help us. We’ve got a bossy little keeper in the making.
My face softens with a smile. “You’re a good boy, Mikey. We’ll find you a job. And soon.”
Standing suddenly, he picks up his school bag and heads for the door. “Later, Miss Ballentine.”
Turning to the door, I call out, “Later, sweetie.”
As soon as Michael exits, Charlie enters. Charlie is my boss and an awesome guy. He’s Maori, from New Zealand. So he’s this big, tall, thick, olive-skinned man, but his voice is so sweet and high-pitched, it’s like talking to a lamb in a lion suit.
“Got time for a word, Lex?”
I motion him forward. “Sure thing. What can I do for you?”
Moving to sit behind my desk, he moves to the chair opposite me and hands me a flyer, along with paperwork. Already nodding, I know what this is.
Yearly drug tests.
It’s mandatory in my field. Social work in Australia has a zero-tolerance view on drugs. Which is fine. I don’t do drugs anyways.
Charlie leans forward and says softly, “These are coming early this year. We’ve got a tip that someone in the office has been using.”
At the idea of someone I work with getting caught doing drugs, my scalp tingles, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand. Wide-eyed, I whisper, “Oh.”
Charlie nods at my reaction. “Exactly. We’re thinking of making them biannual, rather than annual. Make sure we keep people on their toes.”
I nod in full agreement. “If people are starting to be lax, that might be a good idea. Especially if one of ours is using.”
The idea of one of my kids being led by a person taking drugs makes me mad.
A lot of these kids have seen too much wrong in the world, and most of it has been caused by drugs. I want to protect them. I want them to have the childhood that I didn’t get. I want to be there to pick them up when they’re down.
But I need to be careful.
And I will be careful.
As much as a person with a stalker can be.
Driving home, I listen and sing along to the radio.
Knowing I have nothing, and I mean nothing, in the refrigerator to cook, I stop by a drive-thru restaurant and get a burger meal.
Pulling up to my unit building to park in my normal spot, I frown. The spotlights above the parking bay are both out. Normally, one works while the other is waiting to be fixed. I sit in my car a moment.
They were both fine last night.
Discreetly locking my car door, I look around the lot. Nothing seems out of place.
So why is my heart racing?
You’re scaring yourself.
Huffing out a humorless laugh, I run my hands down my face. I really am scaring myself. The lights are out and I’m really wound up. Shaking my head at myself, I sigh and unlock the car door. On my way out, I reach over the seat to pick up my meal.
“Shit!”
I drop my drink and it spills all over my car seat.
Growling, I reach across the middle of the seats to the back where I always keep a gym towel. Finding it, I throw the sweaty towel on the seat and try to soak up as much as I can. Backing out of the car, a hand comes around my mouth while another cinches around my waist. Tightly.
Heavy breathing in my ear. “You scream and I’ll fuck you bare. I’ve got AIDS, bitch. You want AIDS?”
Trying my best to keep calm, I shake my head quickly, and he laughs at the side of my face.
He smells bad. Really bad. Putrid.
He says, “You’re going to come with me. You’re not going to fight. You’re going to be a good girl, aren’t ya?”
Closing my eyes, I nod. But as he pulls me down the side of the building, I begin to cry. The tears fall down my face while my body shakes, trembling in fear. I can’t help it. I know I said I wouldn’t fight but I dig my heels in and claw at his arms. I don’t want him to get me somewhere dark and out of sight.