Jack quit talking, hoping the kid would offer up some explanation about what had happened to him. Some of Ricky's tension drained away, but his mouth remained firmly shut. No doubt he wouldn't be any more forthcoming with the police when they did show up.
"Is there anyone you want me to call?"
Just that quickly, Ricky was wound up tight again. "No, nobody."
"Ricky Patton, if that is even your real name, I know you don't really know me. I'm just a guy who gave you a few bucks and a couple of meals."
"So? I was doing okay on my own before that, and I'll be okay once I get out of here."
"That's bullshit, and we both know it." Jack leaned in close enough to force Ricky to look at him. Lacing his words with pure steel, he laid it all out for the kid. "You've got to trust someone sometime. I'm not saying it has to be me. Hell, the two cops who came to see me seemed like decent sorts. Pick one of them instead. But regardless of who you choose, the bottom line is that you could have been killed today. Someone left you lying there in the gutter all broken and bleeding. Whoever the bastard is that did that belongs behind bars, not roaming the streets free to do it again. And if it's you he's specifically targeting, the next time the two of you cross paths will more than likely be the last, because you'll be dead. At the very least, tell the cops what you know so they can go after the guy."
Ricky turned even more pale. "Get out of my face! I'm not telling the cops a damn thing. Like I said, I can take care of myself."
Despite the brave words, the scared kid behind the bravado showed in his wide eyes and in the way his voice cracked. Jack backed away just a hair. He'd bet anything the kid was trying to protect someone, just not himself.
"Okay, so here's the deal. The cops are assuming you're under eighteen. I'm guessing they're right, and for sure they've already called CPS. My mom has the right credentials to provide foster care and probably knows the caseworker assigned to your case. You're going to need a safe place to stay, especially with your arm screwed up like that. Give yourself a break and come live with us at least until your arm heals. You'll have your own room, which has a lock on the inside. No one will come in or out unless you let them."
Ricky shifted and turned away from Jack, but the kid didn't tell Jack to fuck off. Maybe he was getting through to him.
"We're willing to have you come stay with the two of us, meaning my mom and me, but I won't lie to you. People in our house are expected to pull their own weight, so there will be some rules and regulations involved. Stuff like working toward getting back into school. As your arm allows, you'll be doing chores and have other responsibilities for as long as you're with us. And for the record, there's no time limit on how long you can stay as long as you make a solid effort to toe the line. We can talk about the details when you're feeling more alert."
Silence, but again no rejection. At least the kid was thinking about it. Jack was about to walk away to give the kid some space, when Ricky flopped back over onto his back, cursing when it jarred his arm. "Why would you do this? What do you get out of it?"
God, the kid sounded just like Jack had back in the day. He grinned at Ricky. "My best guess is a lot of lip from you."
A small smirk came and went before Ricky could hide it. Still mistrustful, he frowned big-time. "Seriously, why would you do this? Nobody does shit for anybody without getting something out of it."
Now wasn't the time for Jack's life story. He settled for what Ricky really needed to hear. "For now, all you need to know is my mom took me in off the streets when I was about your age, and I turned out okay. Maybe I think you deserve the same chance I got."
He could hear his mom talking with someone, which meant she and the nurse were nearly to the door. "You don't have to decide right away, Ricky. I just thought you'd rest better knowing what was going on and what your options would be when they boot your skinny ass out of here."
The corner of Ricky's mouth twitched upward just a bit. "Two things, Jack. First, my ass ain't skinny. Second, does your mom bake cookies very often?"
Jack stared down at him, straight-faced and serious as hell. "Two answers, kid. Yes, it is, and yes, she does."
Ricky slowly lifted his good hand and held it out. "Then it's a deal."
"I knew you were smarter than you looked, kid."
Jack shook Ricky's hand but ignored the sudden sheen in the teenager's eyes and the way he was blinking like crazy to clear the tears threatening to spill down his cheeks. Jack knew from experience how much pride meant to a kid like Ricky. When you had nothing but the clothes on your back, sometimes pride was all you had going for you. As he turned to greet both the nurse and his mother, Jack realized that the ten-ton boulder of worry that had been parked on his shoulders all night suddenly felt a helluva lot smaller.
-
Caitlyn Curtis pulled to the curb and parked. Before getting out of her car, she studied the house where her newest client was staying. It was probably two decades older than the one she'd grown up in, but there were definite similarities. If she had to guess, the main living space was probably on the first floor while the bedrooms were all on the second. The master bedroom was most likely located toward the front with the smaller ones overlooking the backyard. At least that had been true of the two cozy rooms she and her older brother had laid claim to in their childhood home. The memory of that room had her smiling. How many hours had she spent curled up in the window seat daydreaming as she stared out at the world outside?
She shook her head, clearing away the memories to concentrate on her first impressions of her newest clients. She liked that the yard was freshly mowed, and the flowerbeds were kept neat and tidy. The house itself was also well maintained, so that even a casual observer would know the owners took pride in their home. Hopefully that meant they would extend the same degree of care to the boy who had been sent to live with them.
Only one way to find out. She picked up her briefcase and purse before getting out of the car. She walked up the driveway, taking note of the pair of vehicles parked there. One was definitely a workingman's truck with all the dents and dings to prove it. There was a sign on the driver's door that read JOE'S CONSTRUCTION. The second one, a late-model SUV, was obviously someone's pampered baby. It would be interesting to meet the owners and see if she could guess which one belonged with each vehicle.
The front door swung open before she had a chance to knock. Caitlyn knew she should introduce herself, but at that moment she wasn't sure she could string the words together in any coherent order. She'd been told that Marlene Lukash, the foster parent, was a woman in her late fifties.
Instead, the person on the other side of the screen door was a man of about her own age, and what a man! He was around five inches taller than she was, making him a shade under six feet tall, but his shoulders came close to spanning the full width of the door. His reddish-brown hair was cut military short, and his green eyes bore into hers with an incredible intensity. God, she hoped she wasn't drooling.
He quirked an eyebrow, clearly wondering why she was just standing there and not saying a word. "Ms. Curtis?"
She managed to answer. "Yes, sorry. I wasn't expecting … they told me you'd be older." And deciding she might as well go for broke, she added, "and a woman."
His mouth quirked up in a small grin, clearly enjoying her embarrassment. "So, tell me, Ms. Curtis. Are you disappointed that neither of those things are true?"
No way she was going to answer that one. Even so, she couldn't remember the last time she'd been so aware of a man. While his features were too bold to be considered classically handsome, his looks were still compelling. Then there was the fact that she'd always been a sucker for a guy with a wicked sense of humor. Those amazing shoulders and smiling eyes were just the icing on the cake, rich and all too tempting. She took a mental deep breath and got back on task. "Is Mrs. Lukash available? I'm the tutor she's hired to work with her foster son."
"Actually, I'm the one who will be footing your bill." He opened the door to let her in. "I'm Jack McShane. Marlene Lukash is my mother. She and Ricky are at the store, but they'll be back in just a few minutes. I wanted a chance to talk to you before you meet your new student."