Chapter Five
Cole
I ’m way out of my depth. When me and Travis decided to take Savvy in after her parents died, I’d imagined myself in a foster father type of role. She was just some kid, who meant something to me, who needed help. No different than others like her I’ve come across over the years as a police officer.
She was someone to save.
Except, she’s not in any real danger. In fact, she’s dangerous. To my morality. I’d already been alarmed with how pretty she was when she moved in yesterday but seeing her so scantily dressed this morning was a brutal shock I wasn’t prepared for.
Her nipples were hard.
That’s the first thing I noticed when I’d looked her over. That would have been bad enough, but the material of her shirt was so thin, I could see the dark outline of her areolas. The shirt showed her trim stomach, and the shorts were so short they could’ve passed for underwear.
Why would she dress like that?
Was she trying to make us uncomfortable?
As I ponder these things, I patrol my route. Since I’ve been at this awhile, I sometimes get rookies to train, but thankfully there’s no one but me today. I’m too much of a mental mess to teach someone the ins and outs of this job.
I think back to Travis’s texts to me after I’d left this morning.
Travis: I think you freaked her out.
Travis: You’re going to have to get your shit under control.
Travis: Look, I know it’s weird having another person around, but you upset her with your reaction this morning. Do better.
Outrage was all I’d felt the first half of the day. I’d been blaming her for teasing us with something we should’ve never been aware of. His texts didn’t warrant a response, so I didn’t give him one.
Now that I’ve had time to cool off, I’m more frustrated than anything. With her, with Travis, with myself. If Charlie were still alive and knew I got a painful erection from seeing his daughter in her pajamas, he’d probably beat my ass.
I’m sick.
I’m fucking sick.
Travis must’ve known I’d react badly. I’d seen the smirk on his face when I entered the house after my run. It would’ve been great to have had a warning. Asshole.
Are you going to admit to yourself that you stroked your cock thinking about her nipples?
A swell of shame burns through me. In the shower, I had to relieve the ache in my balls. I’d tried desperately to think of the last woman I’d slept with, but my rebellious mind trekked back to the fresh, sexy memory of the girl in my kitchen.
Sick. Sick. Sick.
Though she’s eighteen, I’m still fucked in the head over this shit. It’s not like she’s been eighteen for long. I’ve arrested college-aged guys before who mess around with girls still in high school. They were breaking the law and pedophiles in my opinion.
And yet…
A sleek black Audi rolls through a stop sign right in front of me. It’s just the distraction I need. I happily flip on my lights and go after the rule breaker.
When I get back home, I’m going to have to lay down some rules of my own with Travis and Savvy. She can’t wear that shit in front of us. It’s playing with fire.
If you tell them, though, you’re admitting you have no control around her…
Disgust at myself makes me want to puke up the excessive amount of coffee I’ve consumed today. The Audi slows to a stop on the shoulder of the road, finally pulling me out of my head so I can do my damn job.
Before I get out, I run the plates, and I’m surprised to see I recognize the name. Owen Monahan. The man whom, with his wife, Leah, took Savannah for themselves when she needed us most.
What’s he doing on our side of town?
I climb out of the Explorer and make my way over to his vehicle. He only rolls down his window after I bang my knuckles on it.
“Is there a problem, officer?”
The cool disdain in his voice irritates me. I may not be rich like him, but I have a respectable job. I’m important to this community.
Does your community know you’ve been lusting after sweet, young Savvy?
I grit my teeth long enough to keep my expression free of shame. When it’s passed, I ask for his license and registration. He sighs heavily as though his breaking the law is somehow my fault.
“You know what a stop sign means?” I ask, inspecting his license and memorizing his address in case I need it for later. “It means stop.”
Someone laughs from within the vehicle. I bend down so I can have a look. A young teenage girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen, dressed in a school uniform grins my way.
“You must be Addison.”
Her eyes widen comically. “How do you know that?”
I’m pretty sure he recognizes me from Savvy’s guardianship hearing, but he doesn’t help his daughter out.
“If I’m getting a ticket, go ahead and issue it to me so I can be on my way. Time is money, officer.” He smirks at me. “At least in my line of work it is. I suppose you get paid the same no matter what.”
What a prick.
“Seriously, though,” Addison asks. “How do you know me?”
“Savvy,” I say in a bland tone that doesn’t match my racing heart. “Sit tight. This will only take a minute, Mr. Monahan.”
He grunts as I walk back to my vehicle. A quick check of his record shows he’s squeaky clean. I’d assumed he’d have to be in order to be a foster parent. Because I can be a dick too, I take my time typing up his ticket.
When I return, he’s impatiently drumming his thumb on the steering wheel while texting on his phone with his other thumb.
“Daddy said you’re the cop guy, Cole, that Savvy went to live with. I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Addison says, pouting. “Here’s my number. Tell her to text me.”
I take the scribbled number on notebook paper and stuff it into my pocket. I’m not keen on Savvy still having contact with these people, but Addison was her friend. I won’t take that from her.
“Make sure you fully stop next time,” I say gruffly as I hand back over his identification, documentation, and one-hundred-ninety-five-dollar ticket. Not that it’ll make a dent in his finances. It’s the fact of the matter.
He drives off without another word, kicking gravel up and a dust cloud around me. I’m tempted to follow him, pull him over again, and give him a ticket for reckless driving.
It’s his lucky day, though.
I’m feeling generous.
By the time I get home later, after a long day of work and a couple hours at the shooting range with Rick, my boss, and his buddy, Brandt, I’m beat and ready for bed. Travis’s truck isn’t here and neither is Savvy. I’ve missed a few texts from an unknown number.
Unknown Number: This is my new number.
Unknown Number: It’s Savvy.
Unknown Number: Are you still mad at me?
Unknown Number: Can you be un-mad at me for five seconds to come pick me up from Smoke & Sugar? My shift is almost over, and I can’t get a hold of Travis.
Unknown Number: Never mind.
Before I can text her back, headlights flood the living room. A quick peek out the window and I recognize Travis’s truck. Tension bleeds from me when I see Savvy climb out of the passenger side.
She’s wearing black pants and a black shirt which must be a requirement of Smoke & Sugar because it doesn’t look like typical teenage attire.
Adult attire.
Savvy is an adult now.
Travis notices me spying on them and grins. I retreat from the windows, and busy myself with a pile of mail on the bar that wasn’t here earlier.
“Hey,” I say to them, casting a quick, benign look their way. “What’s up?”
Savvy glowers at me as she passes and tromps up the stairs. Travis stares after her and then sighs, shaking his head.
“What?” I grumble. “She still pissy from earlier?”
His eyebrows pinch together as he frowns. “I still see you’re being a douchebag. What crawled up your ass anyway? You’re not making this transition easy on any of us.”
He’s right.
I wish I knew how to fix it.
“Fuck,” I hiss. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a bad day.”
“Yesterday was bad, too. Maybe the bad is you , not the day.”
I flip him off, earning a halfhearted grin.
“Look,” he says lowly. “Go easy on her. She needs us to be here for her in all ways.”
“I didn’t know she got a phone,” I mutter. “And after work, I was at the gun range.”
“I get it.” He holds up his palms. “It’s going to take some getting used to around here. But we’ll all be walking on eggshells unless you apologize. Get past whatever it is you’re struggling with.”
He leaves me to my thoughts and begins rummaging through the fridge. I take my exit, heading up the stairs two steps at a time. Savvy’s bedroom door is open which means she’s dressed.
I peek inside the room and find her tightly wrapped up in Travis’s tan blanket on his bed. From afar, she resembles a burrito, the top of her head, eyes, and nose the only part of her visible. She seems much younger and incredibly vulnerable which makes me feel even worse.
Slowly, I approach the bed and then take a seat on the edge. She watches me warily—as if she’s equally frustrated and confused. I hate that I’ve done this to us.
“I’ve been an asshole, Savvy, and I’m sorry.”
She’s silent for a beat and then softly says, “Yeah.”
“I’ll do better,” I promise and mean it. “How was your first day at school and work?”
“School was good. The job was hard, but I liked it.” Her eyes lock onto mine. “Did you have any idea how expensive Smoke & Sugar was?”
“It’s a steak place, so I imagine it’s pricy.”
She shakes her head. “I got the chicken, and it was twenty-nine dollars. All the sides were eight dollars extra a piece. Your steak was eighty-four dollars by itself.”
I gape at her in shock. “What? Travis didn’t say anything.”
“I know. I feel so bad. When Aiden gave me a menu to study, I about died. No wonder Travis was adamant about us taking all the leftovers home. I’m going to pay him back after I get my first check.”
Without thinking, I reach out, touching her shoulder over the blanket. “No. It’ll embarrass him. Just let it be. He has a good job and decent savings.”
Her nostrils flare and her eyes narrow, but she doesn’t argue. “I guess the good thing is that we’ll get a fifty percent off discount now that I’m an employee. If I eat while on the clock, it’s free.”
Even a half-off, forty-two-dollar steak feels ridiculously high, but I don’t mention it.
“I see you got a phone,” I say, not bothering to pull my hand away from her. “I could have helped you with that.”
“I don’t need help,” she says coolly. “I already told you I want to contribute and pay my way if I live here.”
This is apparently the hill she’s willing to die on.
I breeze past the tense topic and move onto something else. “How was Owen Monahan when you lived with them?”
My question catches her off guard. She flinches slightly, but I see it. Her frown is immediate. “Why?”
“No reason. I pulled him over today. Guy seemed like an arrogant prick to me. Just making sure he wasn’t rude to you.”
Her lips thin out before she says, “Nah. The opposite actually. He paid too much attention to me.”
A flare of anger surges through me but I keep my demanding questions locked up tight in my mouth. I’m doing damage control with her right now. The last thing I need to do is launch into an interrogation of what seems like a touchy subject.
“I saw Addison, though,” I say with a smile. “She told me to give you her number.”
I pluck the folded notebook paper out of my pocket to set down on the nightstand, but Savvy has already unwrapped herself from her burrito blanket, snatching it out of my hand.
“Thank you!”
She shocks me by flinging her arms around me and giving me a quick hug. It’s not until she pulls away that I notice she’s no longer wearing her work outfit. No, she’s back to torturing me with her appealing sleepwear.
“I better get changed,” I say roughly, tearing my eyes from her perky breasts. “Maybe we can all watch a movie or something.”
I’m proud of myself for not being a jerk again like earlier, but the shame nearly drowns me by the time I get my bedroom door closed. My cock is straining in my uniform slacks, threatening to burst the threads along the seams.
I barely get the door locked and my fly unzipped before shoving my hand into my boxers, desperate for relief.
Normally, I’d lubricate my dick for a jack-off session, but I probably deserve the punishment of it not being slick while I pleasure myself.
Roughly, I stroke my cock with my eyes tightly shut, thinking of sweet Savvy’s pretty, forbidden tits. This goes on for several moments, the sounds of my ragged breathing and occasional grunts the soundtrack for my complete lack of morals. And then, regretfully, I think of her pouty lips as I shoot my cum out in an impressive arc. It splatters all over my hand, the floor, and the side of my dresser.
If this is the new norm for me, I am so fucked.
How long before she catches on that I’m no better than those I arrest on a daily basis?
I’m a sick, twisted man.
There’s no hiding it.