Trapped (Caged #2)(16)

Of course, the bigger issue was that I couldn’t afford to take her anywhere else. Even if I did take her out, it wasn’t like I was going to get any when we got back home. Damn! I had to stop thinking like that. Tria deserves better.

Inside the bathroom, I took a piss and then looked in the mirror. I looked a little rough, no doubt. There was a decent black and blue mark over my left cheek, which I didn’t even realize I had. I rubbed at it for a minute before splashing my face with cold water.

I shook my head. It wasn’t about getting into her pants—it really wasn’t. I still wanted it though. I had meant what I said when I told her I would wait as long as she wanted, and I would. I just hoped it didn’t take too long. Like, more than an hour.

Fuck.

I was being a total ass, and I couldn’t help it. At least it was all inside my head, where such things probably ought to stay since I hoped to introduce Tria to the moody little bastard between my legs. And by introduction, I meant getting inside her and spending the majority of the night poking around in there and listening to her moan my name a few hundred times.

The linoleum floor in the kitchen was cold on my feet, and I had to smile a bit at how there always seemed to be a clean cup in the cupboard whenever I looked for one now. I used to just rinse one out from the sink.

I heard a slight noise behind me, and I turned to see Tria shuffle out of the bedroom with her hair looking like it was straight out of a Billy Idol music video. She yawned and stumbled a bit in her early morning drowsiness, and whatever chill the cold floor had brought over my body vanished in a wave of warmth when I looked at her. She rubbed her eyes, and I felt the corners of my mouth turn up.

I was never one to exercise patience, but for her I would wait.





Chapter 5—Help the Neighbor


“Could you give me your name again, please?”

“Liam Teague,” I said for the tenth time. “I’m calling about Katie Took. Her worker’s supposed to be here every Tuesday or Wednesday or something, but she hasn’t been coming.”

“Your social security number?”

“Lady, this ain’t for me!” By now, I was practically growling into the phone. “She’s my neighbor. I just want to find out what’s up with her worker.”

“Is Miss Took a relative of yours?”

“No,” I said, seething, “like I already f*cking told you, she’s my neighbor.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the moronic bitch on the phone replied, “but I can’t discuss any client cases unless you are a member of the family.”

“I don’t want to discuss her case,” I said. “I just want to find out why her worker hasn’t been here.”

“The name of her case worker, please?”

Now she says please. I was about to march over to the Family Foundations building and please myself by tearing her tongue out of her mouth.

“Her name is Meredith.”

“Last name?”

“I have no f*cking idea,” I snapped, “and as you might recall from twenty minutes ago, this is where this whole conversation started!”

“There’s no reason to yell at me!”

“Other than your incompetence?” I was way past civil, and I knew that wasn’t going to get me far. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. Perhaps patronizing her would work better, so I started all over again from the beginning. “Her name is Meredith. She’s Katie Took’s social worker and has been for the last three years. She gave me her number in case Katie ever needed anything, and when I try to call it, the phone rings busy. I don’t think anyone’s been to see Katie in a couple of weeks at least. She’s not cashing her checks, and there’s no food in the apartment.”

“Oh, that’s just terrible!”

I rolled my eyes.

“So, if you could just tell me how I can get hold of Meredith, I’m sure she’d figure everything out.”

“Meredith is a client receiving services?”

“No, she works there.”

“And the client’s name?”

I sighed deeply, banged my head against the receiver end of the phone a couple of times, and then put it back to my ear.

“Katie Took.”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have a Katie Took registered. Perhaps another agency?”

“You are the only agency in town!”

“We are?”

I slammed the phone down. Then I picked it back up and slammed it down a couple more times just for good measure. I stopped when I managed to catch my thumb in the middle.

“Shit!” I rubbed it a couple times before sticking it in my mouth. Why does biting down on something make it feel better?

“Has the phone done something terrible this morning?” Tria walked around the corner with her hair all wrapped up in a towel.

I wish it had been her body wrapped up in a towel, which I could accidently make fall to the floor.

“I can’t reach Krazy Katie’s worker.”

“Why do you want to?”

“Because,” I sighed. I ran my hands through my hair. “There are two disability checks in her apartment, which means she hasn’t had cash in six weeks or so, and she’s got no food in the house at all. Her worker usually talked her into going to the store every week.”