When he unlocked his front door, his two Siamese cats, Caesar and Cleopatra, ran toward him, yowling like banshees, looking for attention. They’d been returned numerous times to the animal shelter because of their loud meowing, but Tash didn’t mind. They were something to break the loneliness and give him love.
“Okay, you two, quiet down.” Identical pairs of turquoise-blue eyes regarded him steadily; then with a noise that sounded more machine-gun-like than should come out of any felines, they ran to the back of the carriage house.
At four, he’d be meeting with Connor Halstead, the Legal Aid attorney, and his client Johnny, about Johnny’s court-ordered treatment. That case was going to be tough. The young man who’d sold Jordan his Xanax was as mistrustful as they came. Another product of the streets. This time, Tash promised himself, he wouldn’t fail.
Johnny would be a perfect candidate for the mentoring program. Both Ash and Luke had agreed to help him with it; they would speak to the kids and show them that growing up with abuse and grinding poverty didn’t have to keep you from accomplishing a dream. It was a great idea to include teachers and other leaders from the community—possibly clergy and politicians. He stretched out on his sofa.
A deep rumbling resonated through his body. When he opened his eyes, a very determined turquoise-blue gaze came into focus, staring straight back at him.
“Meow.” Caesar’s claws delicately pricked through Tash’s shirt as he continued to purr and began to knead Tash’s chest.
“Ow, stop.” Tash lifted him and placed him gently on the ground, yet the cat still gave him an affronted look as though he couldn’t believe Tash had had the nerve to displace him. Tash rubbed his face with his hands and sat up, his back creaking from the uncomfortable position he’d fallen asleep in on his sofa. He scratched his head, then stretched. At thirty-seven, he tried to keep himself in shape, but some days felt considerably more like a losing battle than others.
When he saw the time, he groaned. Damn, he’d never meant to take a three-hour nap. That’s what a restless sleep during the night would do, but he hadn’t slept properly in years. What all this meant was now he’d have to haul ass to Drew’s clinic. Tash had taken a tour of it with Jordan and Luke and was extremely impressed at what the men had accomplished, and he was thrilled to be able to lend them whatever help he could.
He tied his sneakers and headed out the door. After checking his watch, he saw he had about twenty minutes to make it to Red Hook, where the clinic was located and Johnny was doing his community service. Tash’s therapy session with the young man was to take place there, but first they’d meet with the Legal Aid attorney. Hopefully Johnny would open up and let Tash in.
As luck would have it, he picked up a cab right away on Henry Street and settled into the backseat as it rattled off down the cobblestones of lower Joralemon Street, heading toward Red Hook. Sheets of rain now poured from the sky, but even that didn’t diminish the sheer strength and enormity of the glass-and-steel skyline, interspersed with the late nineteenth-century architecture of lower Manhattan. The cab jostled and jounced as it ran up Van Brunt Street, finally slowing the jostling of his inner organs as it pulled up in front of the clinic. He made a mad dash between the raindrops to the clinic’s front door.
Tash enjoyed the time he put in at the clinic. As he greeted the young woman, Marly, at the front desk, he sensed the energy humming with the doctors and staff as he passed by in the hallway. These people were so dedicated to their work, many had chosen to give up lucrative careers to help, or volunteered after they’d already retired from private practice.
Seeing these kids who lived in the age where supposedly everyone was more enlightened and accepting, and hearing their stories of abandonment, bullying, and outright rejection from their parents and their peers, reinforced Tash’s belief that he’d made the right choice in his life, at least where work was involved. In his first case working with the clinic, he’d helped a young man named Stevie, who struggled with acceptance of his sexuality as well as some residual effects of the bullying and abuse he’d suffered at the hands of the foster brothers he once lived with. Only recently had Stevie begun to blossom and discover all life had to offer. He now excelled in his last year of high school and planned a future working at the clinic. Tash was thankful he’d been able to help, even in his small way.
“Hi, Dr. Tash.” Marly smiled at him. “Dr. Drew is waiting for you with your patient and his lawyer.” She handed him a sheet of paper.
“Thanks.” He flashed her a smile. “How’s everything with you?”
“Great. Did you hear that I got accepted to St. Francis College, so I can still keep working here while I go to school?” She looked nothing like the scrawny, scared teen she’d been over a year ago, now projecting an image of a confident, healthy young woman.
“That’s great.” He shook her hand, knowing she wouldn’t appreciate a congratulatory kiss from him. “You should be proud of yourself.”
“I am. If it wasn’t for Dr. Drew and Dr. Jordan, I never would’ve made it.” The phone rang. “Excuse me, I have to answer that.” She picked up the phone. “Home Away From Home Clinic. How may I help you?”
Tash walked down the hall to the back where the examining rooms were located. He heard the low murmur of voices behind the closed door of Drew’s office and knocked.
“Come on in.”
When Tash opened the door, he came face-to-face with Dr. Drew Klein. Sitting across the desk from Drew was the attorney, Connor Halstead, and the teen he knew as Johnny Ramatour.
“Tash, great. I was hoping it was you.” Drew indicated the empty chair next to Connor. “Have a seat.”
“Thanks.” He dropped into the seat closest to the wall, next to Connor. He liked the bright Legal Aid attorney, who defended his clients with a ferocious intensity. He was a man who believed in what he did, and in turn, Tash had nothing but the utmost respect for him.
Connor shifted in his chair. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get this started. Johnny is doing his community service here at the clinic, and as part of his probation, he’s also required to undergo psychiatric evaluation and therapy.”
“I still don’t think I need no fuckin’ shrink. There ain’t nothing wrong with me.”
Great. Another teenager with an attitude. And this one had no reason to be angry, since he was getting out of jail time, only by the goodness of his Legal Aid attorney and the deal he’d worked out with the prosecution. Did the boy know how fucking lucky he was that someone gave a damn? Tash was about to find out.
“You have a problem with the sentence, Johnny?” Tash glared at him. “That’s fine with me. I don’t give a shit one way or another. Go back to your miserable life—stealing, selling dope, and living on the streets. But know this. This is your big chance. You may not get another one. So if you fuck it up, there’s no guarantee you’re going to have another Connor or me to help you get and keep your ass out of jail.” He grimaced as he saw Johnny’s face grow pale. “And let me tell you, you have too pretty an ass for the inmates not to notice.”
Connor lips twitched. “So, kid, you’ve now seen how this is going to play out. Dr. Weber here isn’t going to cut you any slack. You’re gonna have to work hard and dig deep within yourself to see where you messed up.”
Johnny scowled. Behind the sneer, Tash saw fear and uncertainty, which was a relief. It let him know that Johnny was still vulnerable, still the child who never had a chance to grow up before society gave up on him and threw him away.
But Tash knew not to show him weakness nor cut him any slack. At least at first. And this time he wouldn’t fuck up and think the problem solved because he believed what he was told. This time he knew the warning signs.
“Are you up for it, Johnny? Or is that all you want to do with your life—live on the streets like a small-time hustler?” Tash saw he hit home with that point as Johnny’s eyes widened. He wasn’t surprised when the teen lashed out at him next.
