Aced

“I guess he’s married now and they saw a picture of me in People Magazine and decided they want to foster me because I’m the only family they have.” His comment is followed by an incomprehensible sound that tugs at my heartstrings. I know he has to be freaked out, ready to run and at the same time too scared to stay. “My caseworker called Jax, told him they’re going to give them some supervised visits to see how it goes.” And even though he doesn’t say it, I can hear the plea in his voice to help him and not make him go.

“I’ll make some calls. See what’s going on, okay?” I try to sound hopeful, but fear I have no control over what the machine does. All I can do is assert my one, hopefully still powerful and relevant, voice since I was his caretaker for longer than anyone.

“Please, Rylee. I can’t . . .” The damaged little boy’s voice rings through loud and clear, a sound I thought I was never going to have to hear again. One I worked so hard to overcome and get rid of.

“I know,” I tell him as tears burn in the back of my throat. “I know.”

“I couldn’t not tell you,” he says, and I smile at the double negative he’s fond of using. It’s comforting in an odd sense.

“You did the right thing. Now go watch the race, try not to worry about it, and I’ll see what I can do on my end, okay?”

“I’m scared.”

And there they are. Two simple words that weasel their way into my heart and create fissures.

“Don’t let them take me.”

“I will do everything in my power to stop them,” I say. Just what that is, I’m not sure yet besides raising hell. “I promise. I soccer you, Z,” I add to reinforce his place in my life and heart.

“Yeah. Me too.” And the phone clicks without him saying what he always says back to me.

I stare out the window and fear this may be one promise I might not be able to uphold. Visions fill my head of the first time Zander came to me—a broken boy, lost and afraid. Of the sleepless nights I spent beside his bed, building his trust, creating that bond, and now in one fell swoop I’ve let him down by not being there when he needs me.

And yet someone, somewhere, has handcuffed me so I couldn’t know.

I tap my cell against my chin, my mind lost in thought as I try to figure out why after all this time his uncle would actually step forward and why social services would even entertain the idea. Because there are just too many kids, not enough caseworkers, and when the unwanted become wanted, it’s so damn easy to dust your hands of one and get them off your caseload.

I hate my bitterness. Know that not all caseworkers are this way but right now I have the voice of a scared boy ringing in my ears and doubt niggling in my psyche.

Dialing, I shove away the doubt whether I should call Teddy or not. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it before and hate that I am now. Corporations and their board of directors and all of the bullshit can kiss my ass right now.

They are to blame for this. Forcing me to take a leave of absence. Handcuffing me so I can’t take care of one of my boys. Letting Zander down when he needs me the most.

Anger riots within me. I’m primed for a fight when Teddy answers the phone.

“Rylee,” he greets me, just as I start to worry my wedding ring around on my finger.

“Teddy. I know it’s a Sunday but—”

“Colton’s racing, right? Is everything okay?” he asks immediately, concern lacing his tone.

“Colton’s fine,” I state coldly, not wanting to warm to him because he’s worried about Colton. I squeeze my eyes shut, pinch the bridge of my nose, and hold on to the disbelief that he’s been keeping this from me. And I know it sounds stupid, but all of a sudden, my disoriented emotions latch on to the fact someone has ordered I be kept in the dark about Zander. And that someone is most likely Teddy. “Did you think it wasn’t important to tell me what’s going on with Zander?”

Silence fills the line. I visualize him picking his jaw up off the ground. Insubordinate Rylee is rare and yet he shouldn’t doubt I’d go there instantly when it comes to my boys.

“Rylee.” My name again said with detached frustration.

“After working for you for twelve years, you didn’t think I was important enough to let know that—”

“I was protecting you.”

“Protecting me?” I all but yell into the phone, temper boiling, and body trembling with disbelieving anger. “How about you do your job and start protecting those who matter the most? The boys? Zander?”

“I was,” he says, his voice barely audible. “If I’d told you without all the information, you’d act in haste, rush to The House before all facts are straight . . . and then that leave of absence would be permanent, Rylee. And that would not only hurt you, but the boys too. You are their number-one advocate, their fighting force, and so I was protecting Zander by not telling you. If you get fired, you’re not going to be there when he needs you the most.”

His words knock the whipping winds from my otherwise stalwart sails. They should shock me from my funk but almost plummet me further into it because it makes me realize how much I miss my boys, and how lost I feel right now without being able to champion for them even when I know it’s best all around with the baby coming sooner rather than later.

“Teddy,” I finally say, a cross between disbelief and gratitude mixed in my tone because he’s right.

“I wanted to talk to his caseworker at social services first, get the answers before I called you.”