I flung my hand out to grab for tissues and I hit my abandoned beer bottle. It skidded across the floor before it hit the wall and broke into pieces. I wasn’t even mad, but I was already acting like a lovesick teenager. If I was like other men, I could just bang her and get her out of my system, but I didn't like to use women. That was knocked out of me at a young age. I was either all in or not in at all. All I knew is that Claire would be the end of me, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I didn’t plan on running into the roadblock, but here I was, smack in the middle of a horny crush on a hot social worker, who for all I knew hated my guts.
I left the pool of alcohol and the broken glass on the floor and headed up to bed. I should have cleaned it up, but all I wanted to do was close my eyes, desperate for my hang-ups to go away, but they never did. I was an anomaly and I wasn’t gonna change. A biker who had to ask a woman to be his girlfriend before they could bang, and a man who wanted to be loved forever, and just as badly, wanted someone to love.
As soon as I was showered and dressed in the morning, I hopped on my bike and drove to the shelter. I wanted to check on Sky before heading to the courthouse. I didn't want her to think I was another piece of shit who just tossed her in a program and completely forgot about her. So many of these kids were passed around from one shelter to another, from one foster home to foster home. They’d lost their trust in adults and it showed. Who could blame them. Once you've failed too many times, you eventually give up trying. Sky wasn't just a statistic to me, and I wanted her to know that. I’d seen many kids admitted to programs only to be back on the street not even a week later. No way I was going to let Sky be another statistic on my watch. She was going to know that I cared, that I was here for her, and the possibilities for her life were endless.
The shelter was busy and bustling as usual, with people everywhere. I winced as I observed the overcrowding at the shelter, teens huddled in corners, some girls fighting, the social workers huddled around a group of young boys, breaking up a fight. Most people would look at these kids and call them useless, but the real truth was, we’d failed them as a society. We created them, and instead of teaching them, nurturing them, we’d abandoned them. Most were defenseless victims, attacked until they had no other options in life but to fight back.
"Malcolm, two days in a row. I'm feelin' awfully lucky," Isla said, smiling. She’d come up behind me, carrying a huge box of files. I took the box from her and followed her to her office. "You have a trial today?" she asked as she took in my clothes.
I pulled at my tie, loosening it a bit. "Yes, I fuckin' hate these monkey suits, but you gotta look the part, you know?"
"You must have them tailored. I can’t imagine they carry your size.”
“Believe it or not, I go to Italy. I’m even larger there, but custom made cannot be beat. Still, I’d rather be in the cut.”
“I hear you. Every time I go to court, I have to take my piercings out and make sure none of my tatts are visible. Apparently, a punk loving teenager doesn't translate well to a woman with a master's in social work,” She struggled as she shuffled some paperwork that was piled up on her desk. "So, how can I help you today?"
"I'm here to just check in on Sky. Is she downstairs?"
Isla stopped fidgeting at her desk. "She's with Clair."
"Great, where are they?"
"Well, not here." She raised her eyebrows looking inquisitive.
"Isla," I stepped closer. "Where the hell are they?"
"At Clair's."
I instinctively banged my hand on Isla’s desk, which caused her to jump. My emotions were showing when it came to these two—Claire and Skylar. I don’t know why I was so caught up, I was well-versed in how keeping distance worked best with my heart.
The thing about street kids was that they spooked so easily, and for Claire, as hot she was, she was green around the ears. I wasn’t sure she’d know how to handle a skittish kid who’d just been attacked a few nights ago.
“I’m sorry, but Jesus, Isla, you know what happens. Sky will get too attached to Claire and Claire has a hundred other kids to take care of. Why would you let her get her hopes up like that?”