Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T #1)(20)

“You know I love you and Arabella. I’m just looking out for you. I don’t want my dipshit brother hurting you again. If you think you owe it to me or Arabella, I can tell you now, it’s not going to work. You haven’t lost his family. We’re still here. We always will be here. But if you really want this for you, then I’ll support you.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I want, Liberty. I wish we could go back to before, you know?” She reaches out and runs her finger along Arabella’s cheek.

“So he fired her I take it?” I can’t even say her name; the little whore doesn’t deserve one.

“Well, not exactly.”

“What does that mean? She’s still working there?”

My dipshit brother.

“Well, it’s not like he can fire her. He would be opening himself up to a lawsuit.”

“So you’re paying this home-wrecker, and he’s still seeing her every day. Can’t you see how messed up this is?” I know I said I would support her, but this is ridiculous.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Liberty. It’s okay for you to sit there and tell me what is best for me. You’re not the one living this. I love him, okay. And maybe that’s stupid, but I can’t stop it.” She stands from her chair and starts packing up Arabella’s stuff.

“I don’t want to go, Mommy.” Arabella notices her mom's rush to leave.

“Payton, sit down.” I try to reach out to her, but she ignores me and continues to ramble. I didn’t envision our breakfast ending like this.

“He messed up. But if I can forgive him, then you should be able to. We all make mistakes. You’re not perfect either you know.” She reaches for Arabella and picks her up out of the chair.

“No, Mommy. I not finished.”

“I never said I was. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Well, it’s a risk I may have to take.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t say anything else about it, okay?” We stare at one another for a beat. Her standing, me seated. We’ve never argued like this before, and I’m having a hard time getting my head around it.

“Look, I need to go.” She breaks the silence.

“Payton, don’t—”

“Thanks for breakfast. I’ll speak to you later. Say bye, Aunt B.” Arabella looks as confused as I am, and before I can call her back, she’s out the door, leaving me sitting there feeling like an *.

“And that’s what happens when you dish out tough love,” I whisper to myself.



“Liberty?” A knock on my office door a few hours later has me almost jumping out of my chair.

“Hey.” I look up from my paperwork, checking the time.

Crap, after seven. I was meant to finish an hour ago. I promised myself I was going to stop staying so late, but time keeps getting away from me.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, but we have an issue.” Sue, one of Boys Haven’s full-time youth workers, steps into my office.

“What’s up?” An issue in a house like this can be as little as a fight between the boys, or as huge as one of the kids getting into serious trouble.

“Mitch hasn’t come home for curfew.”

Shit, not what I want to hear today.

“What about the other boys?” I stand, packing up my desk.

“All in and accounted for.”

“Has anyone seen him since school let out?” I try to think back to what his schedule looks like on a Monday. Four of the six boys we house here are old enough to work. On Mondays, Cam, Jonah, and Will head off to work, while the other three boys, Mitch, Garrett, and Brooklyn come home, check in, and start on their homework.

“He checked in, then was cleared to leave with Garrett for the library. Garrett says he thought he saw some of The Disciples hanging around.”

Shit.

The Disciples are a local street gang Mitch’s brother hangs with.

“Are you kidding me right now?” I reach for my keys.

“Where are you going?” she asks, following me out of my office and inside to the house.

With the capacity to house up to nine boys, Boys Haven is a big house. Built for the sole purpose of what we do here, we have the luxuries not a lot of other houses like ours do.

Two bathrooms, one large kitchen. Two recreation areas, a large back yard, plus the garage, which was turned into two offices. The boys and the staff have it very good here, all things considered.

“I’m going to get him,” I tell her when I step into the house and make my way down the hall to one of the recreation areas.

“I don’t know, Liberty.” She seems unsure, but what are the other options? It’s not like Mitch to miss curfew. After spending the day with him last week, I know he’s having a tough time, but he’s trying really hard. He wouldn’t throw it all away. If he’s missing curfew for his brother, it’s for a reason. If he’s missing curfew for The Disciples, then he’s in deep shit.

“Excuse me, boys.” I interrupt the conversation in the main recreation room. Even though we're not to capacity, most days we’re kept on our toes. Situations like this make it tenfold.

“What’s up, Liberty?” Brooklyn, one of the oldest boys, looks up from his homework.