Charlie’s fingers go to a scar near his hairline. “I had a guy come after me here, but that didn’t go well for him.”
“Wait,” I say, leaning forward, tapping the desk. “Here as inhere?”
“Yes. He broke into my house.”
“And…”
“It didn’t go so well for him,” Charlie repeats with a raised brow.
I have more questions, but Erik sends me a cut-it gesture while Levy goes in with another question.
“What if the authorities are on the take?”
“We now have contacts down the road in Wimberley who can take care of the traffickers extrajudicially if the authorities are somehow involved.”
"Wimberley as in Wimberley, Texas? As in swimming holes and shopping Wimberley?”
Charlie grimaces. “Eh…the less you know about that, the better.”
“And what happens to the people in all of this?”
“We work with legitimate anti-trafficking organizations on the ground as much as possible, as they are the most equipped to help with reunification, transport, and immigration.”
“That’s admirable,” I respond, “but I’m curious as to why you’re telling us all this.”
“Sometimes the people being rescued fall through the cracks in the system. We find alternatives for them, which sometimes requires transitional housing. As much as we want to keep our anti-trafficking work separate from Wild Heart, we’re not going to throw someone to the wolves just because they don’t fit into some bureaucratic box.”
“So we’ll occasionally be working and living with victims of severe trauma,” Levy verifies, which checks with my understanding.
“Yes. In fact, we’ve recently had such a person join us, which prompted us to make sure you have the facts before you officially sign on.”
“Yeah, but this one’s not temporary,” Erik grunts. “He’s ours, and he’s here to stay.”
My eyes widen at the gruffness in his tone. “Uhhh…are you saying thatyouown him now?”
Erik sends me a look. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”
Levy laughs, and I discreetly elbow him.
“And no,” Erik answers brusquely. “Ant is ours, as in he’s been staying with my family for a while, and now he’s been set up with a local job, and we’re about to offer to have him live here at the bunkhouse in exchange for cleaning up after the horses.”
Moose lets out a low woof of agreement, and Erik rubs his head.
Levy and I share another look, and I lean in. “I have no problem providing emergency support for a temporary resident, but it’s considered unethical to provide therapy to a member of the same household.”
Guilt twinges my belly.Who appointed you the king of ethics?
“He’s refusing therapy at this time. But he’s a sweet guy and he needs friends.”
“Friends?” I ask, raising my brow.
“Yeah,” Charlie says, using his fingernail to scratch at something on his desk. “He’s still learning how to live as a free adult.”
“I don’t see any problem with that,” Levy says, knowing I agree.
“Good,” Charlie says, letting out a relieved breath. “So you’re still interested in the positions?”
I don’t even have to look at my brother to know his answer.
