Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
"What did the girl have to say about it?"
"Nothing. Like I said, Teagan's quiet. You won't even know she's there.” She pauses. “If things work out, she can get a job and start paying rent."
Paying rent? This is starting to sound a hell of a lot more permanent than she initially let on.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t dream of hosting a stranger with a history of violent outbursts in my home. But this is Mary talking, and when she talks, I do my best to listen.
"Mare, exactly how long do you expect me to play host?"
"I don't know. A while."
"How long's a while?"
"A month. Maybe longer. It's up in the air right now. I may only need your guestroom for a couple of weeks if she’s telling the truth about her plans to leave town... Though I doubt it."
"You think she's lying?"
"I think she's used to having to fend for herself. Teagan’s had a rough start, but she'll never get a chance to overcome it if she's stressing over where she’s going to sleep."
“And you’re convinced she’s capable of overcoming this rough start?”
“I have to believe she can,” Mary says. “That’s my job.”
My chair creaks as I lean back and stare at the ceiling. I’m not a cop anymore. My days of service are behind me. But if I can stop one girl from shooting herself up with poison, or ending up on her back in some greaseball’s apartment, then isn’t it my duty to help? That’s how Mary would see it, for sure.
In the end, it isn’t a lingering sense of morality that sways me. There’s a part of me that wants to prove to my sister that some bad apples rot from the inside, and no amount of care and patience is going to make them healthy again. Every time one of Mary’s charges ends up in prison or at the hospital after an overdose, she blames herself. If I do what I can to help Mary give this girl a fighting chance, and she blows it, then maybe my sister will realize that some people just aren’t worth the trouble.
"One week,” I tell her. “Beyond that, I make no promises."
“Thanks, big bro. I owe you one.”
“More than one.”
She chuckles, her relief palpable through the phone. “Okay, a million.”
Chapter Four
Jonah
I have just enough time to jump in the shower when I get home before Mary calls to reaffirm the night’s plans.
“For the tenth time, Mare, yes, the room is ready.” I set my phone to speaker and toss it on the bed, then focus on toweling off.
“I’m just making sure,” Mary says. “Now, don’t be surprised if Teagan doesn’t respond to you at first. Let her get a feel for the place, but be straight about the ground rules. If she pushes back, be firm, but not too firm."
"Not too firm. Got it." I scrunch the water from my hair, then wrap the towel around my waist.
"I’m just saying, go easy on her. And try to come home around the same time over the next few days if you can. It’ll give her a sense of structure."
“Is this the speech you give to all your prospective foster parents?”
“More or less,” she says.
I put on a pair of boxers and snag a pair of jeans, then do a quick check in the bedroom mirror. I contemplate breaking out my trimmer. Hands down, the best thing about civilian life has been growing my hair out. On my head, for sure, but especially my beard.
"Mare, you told me she wasn't a kid."
"She's not a kid."
"Then I'm not going to treat her like one. If she can’t be trusted to operate the microwave without supervision, she’s gonna have to find a new arrangement.” I grab a clean black tee shirt from my closet. “I thought you guys were heading over after work.”
“We are, as soon as she gets here.”
“She’s late?”
“She’ll be here,” Mary says, but it comes out sounding like she’s trying to convince herself.
I take advantage of the lull in conversation to get dressed. Figures the kid would take her sweet time now that she doesn’t have to scramble. I busted enough girls like Teagan on the force to know all their cheap excuses before they spout ‘em. If she thinks she can force the rest of us to bend to her timetable, she’s in for a rude awakening.
“Hey, Jonah... Try not to scare her, okay?”
I pause in the middle of pulling on my shirt. “Why the hell would I scare her?”
“I just mean, try to look harmless. As much as you can.”
I have to laugh. At six-foot-four and almost three hundred pounds of muscle, I cut an intimidating silhouette. Don't think just because I was injured that I can't still kick ass and take names when the situation calls for it. I walk with a slight limp that's more pronounced when I'm barefoot, but I can run and jog in fierce bursts before the pain catches up. Regular workouts help prevent muscle tightness, so I make sure to get in weights and cardio most days of the week. My doctor says I'm in the best shape of my life.