Chapter 15
Chapter fifteen
Grady
I know the man stationing the front desk, so we get waved through without having to show a badge and go through a song and dance that wastes time and puts me in a bad mood.
Lake follows silently behind me, head swivelling, taking in the station I’m leading him through.
“This is fascinating,” he muses, lingering in doorways to look inside open offices. It’s a smaller precinct than the one I work out of, the detectives and uniformed cops all in the same area.
“What is?” I ask, searching the open space for Emmett and our wayward teenager.
“Seeing a different station. I like yours better.”
So do I, but they’re all functional in their own way. I worked at a few before making detective, and even before I began working for Riley. I prefer my current working environment. Even more now without Gideon putting marshmallows in coffee anymore. He’s someone else’s problem now.
The other Riley—somehow just as much a pain in my ass—is easy to spot, slouching in a chair in front of a random desk, Emmett behind it.
Riley’s arms are crossed over his chest, a petulant, irritated look on his face.
Great. This is going to be loads of fun.
I can’t decide if I’d prefer the torture of a meeting all about wedding preparations or this.
“You came,” he says, with an insulting amount of surprise in his tone. Did he think I’d leave him here?
“Get up.”
He stands immediately, at least. He’s already in a bad mood, I’m already in a bad mood, we don’t need to make it worse. “Look, I just—”
“No.” I’m not discussing this here. It won’t end well for either of us. “Emmett, do you have the report?”
Emmett hands it over without argument, though the small smirk on his face makes me want to get violent. Ignoring him, I flip it over, scanning the contents. What little there is. Of course, Riley chose to stay silent, the statement section conspicuously empty. With a sigh, I hand it back.
“We good here?”
“Yeah, he’s all yours.”
“If there’s any follow-up, call me.” Doesn’t sound like there’s any point in calling the foster parents at this stage. “We’re leaving,” I say to Riley. “Don’t open your mouth, I don’t want to hear a word out of you right now.”
“You’re not even gonna—”
“Nope. Car’s out the front. Move.”
Riley rolls his eyes, but he does as he’s told, stiffly walking in front of Lake, who gives me an amused grin. I’m calling it a win. Especially since it’ll probably be the last one this afternoon.
No one speaks as we get into the car, or when I turn into traffic, making a U-turn to head home.
“I heard what they said about me,” Riley says eventually from the back seat. He’s not looking at me when I glance in the rearview mirror; he’s staring intently out the window.
Teenagers have the ears of a hawk, only when they want to. I’d hoped this wouldn’t be one of those cases. “You shouldn’t have.”
“It’s not like I didn’t already know it; they’re not subtle.”
“Are they abusive to you?” I ask sharply. If they are, I’m going to have a whole other conversation with them that they won’t enjoy at all.
“No, not really. They just don’t care, and they resent having me there. They complain about what it costs to feed me, and when I need stuff for school.”
“Didn’t they choose to foster?” Lake asks, twisting back to look at Riley properly, peeking his head through the middle of our seats. “It’s not something that’s forced on anyone. So it’s really a position they put themselves in? That’s not on you.”
“I doubt they wanted a teenage delinquent,” Riley says bitterly.
Fucking hell. Do I even want him to go back to that place? How much more damage would they inflict before he got out of there? That kind of behaviour and treatment has a lasting effect, and the kid has enough issues as it is.
“You’re not, and it doesn’t work that way. If they’re looking for a cookie-cutter child, then they should have bought one of those dolls that pukes and pisses.”
Lake bursts out laughing and Riley scrunches up his face in disgust.
“I think they poop, not puke,” Lake says thoughtfully. “I need to look this up now.”
“Please don’t.” Christ, that’s not what I was trying to get out of this conversation at all.
Riley peeks between the seats so he can look over Lake’s shoulder. “They’re over a hundred bucks!” he exclaims loudly.
Lake hums and clicks on something. “I can imagine what kind of tech it must have in it to do all this. Check it out,” he says, holding the phone up to me. “They even have a heartbeat!”
“I’m trying to drive.” I could look over, for a second, but it’s a good excuse not to get dragged into this.
“This one doesn’t pee, though,” Lake says in disappointment.
“If one of those dolls shows up in our house, I’m letting Hades eat it,” I warn him.
“Okay, here,” Lake says, ignoring me. He twists and holds the phone closer to Riley so they can both see. Because what I need is for them to be in cahoots like this. “This one sleeps, pees, cries, and can do poo in the potty. I mean, probably it can poo in the nappy, too, I imagine.”
“I bet it smells better than real poo.”
“Maybe they make it smell?” Lake snorts out another laugh.
“Can we please change the subject?” I groan.
“It doesn’t throw up, though. We need one you can burp.
We had a single-dad neighbour when I was a teenager that had twins, and Mum would help out all the time.
Avery and I would get burping duty; since Mum did emergency fostering, we were used to strange children in the house all the time.
They puked up on him way more than they puked on me. It’s because they liked me better.”
I can imagine how enthusiastic both of them would have been about burping, for different reasons.
Thankfully, the conversation turns to milder topics, Lake filling the car with random thoughts until I finally turn into our driveway. Riley blinks in surprise, like he was expecting us to take him somewhere else, and then follows us up to the front door.
Hades meets us at the door, ignoring Lake and me entirely in favour of his new favourite friend. Riley pats him, intently focusing as if he hopes that means he won’t have to face up to his actions and can sit there forever and pat the dog. Time to pop that particular bubble.
“Take your shoes off,” I remind him before shoving my own into a spare spot in the shoe rack. “I need to make a phone call. Go help Lake put the dog out.”
“Yes, sir.”
I already have my phone to my ear, so I let the sarcastic comment slide. I’m well out of earshot, and Riley and Lake are already outside, by the time Quinn picks up.
“How did wedding planning go?” he teases.
“Got cut short. I have a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“One that involves a pain-in-the ass teenager.”
“I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that you’re talking about Mini-Riley, unless you’ve arrested any more teenagers while I wasn’t looking.”
“I try to avoid them,” I deadpan. “He got caught stealing again, and now his foster parents have kicked him out. They could be made to take him back, but I’d rather not. What are my options?”
Quinn’s silent a moment. “I honestly don’t know. Is he with you?”
“For now, yeah.”
“Let me make some phone calls and find out for you.”
“I appreciate it.”
He doesn’t hang up like I expect him to. Instead, he quietly asks, “Is this the direction you want to go, Grady? It’s a lot of responsibility.”
“He needs someone to give a shit.”
“Alright. Leave it with me; I’ll call you back.”
“Thanks.”
Hades is in the pool when I go out, chasing after one of his floating balls. Lake and Riley are sitting sideways on two of the pool loungers, talking quietly.
“Come inside; we need to talk,” I tell them gruffly. There’s no avoiding the reason he’s here. Whatever Quinn finds out, it involves all of us.
Riley sighs and stands. “Then you’re taking me back?” His voice is resigned, like he already knew what was going to happen.
“Let’s just talk first. Go inside.”
Lake encourages Hades to get out of the water and throws a towel over him, drying him as best he can. He watches Riley, his back tense, head inside.
“Quinn is looking into what we can do,” I tell him before he can ask. “Then we have to decide. What do you want to do, Lake?” Whatever choice we make now, it’s going to follow us. We can leave him to the system, hope that when it spits him out, he’ll be able to make his way and make better choices.
Lake stands and then ushers Hades away from the pool, closing the gate behind us so he can’t get back in. “I want to help him. I don’t know what that means.”
Yeah. Gathering him close helps, and I inhale the sweet smell of his hair, kissing the top of his head. He snuggles in closer, making a contented sound.
Riley is waiting in the living room, elbows on his knees, his back bent forward and extremely stiff, like he’s waiting for the hammer to fall.
Lake drops onto the couch beside him, giving him a wide grin. “Do you like popcorn?”
“We’re not having popcorn. Tell us why you were stealing.”
Riley scowls, red spreading across the top of his cheekbones. Looking away, he clenches his hands against his knees.
“I stole once,” Lake pipes up, looking way too pleased over the revelation.
“When?” If he says it happened in the last week, I honestly won’t be all that surprised. I doubt he’d even do it on purpose, just pick something shiny up to look at and then walk out with it. I’m equally sure he would have returned and paid for it as soon as he realised.
“For full disclaimer, I should tell you that I was four. Make sure you add that in the court papers.”
With a heavy sigh, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Let me guess: a piece of candy.”
“Excuse you, I am way more interesting than that. I begged my mum with cute, adorable, four-year-old eyes, and she got me a whole packet of snakes. No, I stole a marble.”
As if that revelation somehow makes it more interesting.