Pushing the Limits (Pushing the Limits #1)(64)

“Mind telling me how you know about this?” I asked as I shut the passenger door and securely fastened my seat belt.

“My husband volunteers for the Legal Aid Society and gave me a heads-up that you made an appointment.”

Great. Would I ever ditch this woman? I clutched the armrest when she gunned the engine on the freeway and cut off a minivan. “That big red shiny thing inches from you was another vehicle.”

She slapped the steering wheel and laughed. “Every time I think we aren’t connecting, you tease me. I love it.” Red taillights glowed in front of us. She accelerated instead of braking.

“Construction zone,” I said. Mrs. Collins swerved in front of a tractor trailer without even looking in her mirrors and barely made the exit off the freeway. The light at the bottom of the ramp turned red. She waited to hit the brakes until we were less than five feet away. I whiplashed forward then slammed back into the seat. “I could teach you to drive if you’re ready to admit you don’t know how.”

Mrs. Collins finally took a peek in her rearview mirror, but only to check her lipstick. “Would you like to tell me what you’re going to discuss with a lawyer? I was under the impression you agreed to leave Jacob and Tyler’s well-being to me.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not discussing that.” I kept my eyes peeled on the road before us. Mrs. Collins may act like an idiot and be the worst driver on the face of the planet, but she always knew more than she let on and I had a feeling this time was no exception.

THE LEGAL AID SOCIETY WEBSITE promised free legal help, which was good because I needed help and I needed it to be free. Located downtown, the Society was housed in one of those old historic homes my dad loved to drive past. I remembered him complaining to Mom about how difficult it was to keep the city from tearing down the old structures. He would have loved that the Society remodeled the old home into offices.

For a half hour, Mrs. Collins and I sat in wooden chairs across from the receptionist. Around me, other people waited patiently, some impatiently. Phones rang and murmured conversations drifted from offices. Like everything else in life, if it contained the word free, it implied slow. Mrs. Collins finished checking her email on her BlackBerry and turned to face me. I should have known my luck would eventually end.

“Why don’t you go ahead and tell me why you’re here?”

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “You’re smart, so I’m sure you figured it out.”

“Yes, but I’d prefer to hear it from you.”

Rubbing my hands together, I contemplated telling her the truth. If her husband worked here, she’d find out regardless, but somehow speaking the words to her invited her into my private world. The question was, did I trust her enough to let her in? “I want custody of my brothers when I graduate and turn eighteen. I need someone to tell me how to make that happen.”

“Noah …” she began, then stopped. Her pause made the air between us heavy. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to raise an eight- and soon to be five-year-old?”

Couldn’t be any worse than life now. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to live without them?”

“Keesha and I are working on increased visitation.”

A muscle in my jaw jumped and I had to focus to keep from yelling. “I don’t want increased visitation. I want my family back together.”

“Winning custody of Jacob and Tyler won’t bring your parents back.”

My heart slammed through my chest and I snapped my head to look at her. “You don’t think I know that? You don’t think I’ve spent the past two and a half years knowing that my life will never be the same?”

“Exactly,” she said. “It will never be the same. You won’t be their brother. You’ll be their father. There’s a huge difference … have you honestly thought this through? What type of job do you think you can get fresh out of high school? How do you think you can afford to raise them and take care of yourself? There are programs out there to help you, Noah. You. Because you’re a ward of the state, they’ll pay for you to go to college. Think about the life you can create for yourself. Think about the future you can have.”

A woman with slicked-back brown hair emerged from an office wearing a navy suit. She gave me the business smile. “Noah Hutchins?”

About damn time. I stood and stared down at Mrs. Collins. “My brothers are my future.”

“Your brothers are fine.” Her eyes pleaded with me. “I promise, they’re safe.”

I shook my head, trying to ignore the nagging voice that said that Mrs. Collins was the one adult who gave a shit and wouldn’t lie. The image of Tyler’s bruised face appeared in my mind. Trusting her would mean turning my back on my brothers and I would never do that.

I needed to stick to my plan: talk to Legal Aid about pursuing custody, clean up my act at school, find a decent-paying job before graduation and prove that Carrie and Joe were unfit parents. In order to do that last one, I needed to get my hands on my file.

Echo

“It’ll work,” Noah purred.

We’d finished studying an hour ago, thanks only to my utter persistence. I sat on his lap in the passenger side of Aires’ car while Isaiah slaved over the open hood. Noah explained his new plan for getting into our files while driving my body to the brink of explosion with caresses and kisses. The asinine plot had plenty of holes, but his seduction fogged my mind and kept me from voicing my opinion, until now.