Why is that broody man so hard to ignore?
***
“Fiona!” Cammie meets me at the door to the bakery even before I can step inside. “There are new kids. Lots of new kids.”
And Maddox didn’t reach out? He always reaches out when there’s a big group, like when they saved some kids recently from a child prostitution ring. That was an all-hands-on-deck operation to get the kids and women back to their families or settled with us. “How many?”
“At least a half a dozen. And they’re all boys.”
Huh? All boys. I mean, I know there are dealers…but still, why didn’t Maddox reach out? That’s odd.
Very odd. Dash doesn’t seem to think it’s odd, though, as he snuffles himself off to sleep against my chest.
Six teenage boys…Max is going to love that.
Why do I even care what Max thinks? There’s work to do. “Cammie, call Paisley and tell her what’s going on.” Let’s go meet some teenage boys.
One benefit to having Dash attached to me is that they probably won’t try hitting on me like some of the flirtier ones do on occasion.
Walking through controlled chaos that’s the kitchen in the morning to the front is no small task since everyone is in love with Dash. I probably should put him back in daycare, but giving up my short time with cuddles like this feels so wrong.
It’s hard to miss the newcomers as I step into the front of house. Those boys stand out like that one zit you get on the middle of your forehead, not because of their dirty clothes or their skinny frames—we’re used to that around here—but because they’re all addicts. Six addicts never walk in at the same time. Prying one off of the streets is challenging as it is…Six? That’s impossible.
The guys must be thinking the same thing because Canyon and Jacko are already sitting down strategically when Ace and Maddox enter.
There’s way too much testosterone bouncing around the room for things to stay calm. Time to diffuse the situation before Jacko ends up carrying two of them out by the scruffs of their necks. Would the kids even feel it as high as they probably are?
“What can I get you?” A reassuring smile settles on my face.
The tallest one turns towards me. “Look at the hot momma offering us food.”
Don’t roll your eyes. Teenage boys get insulted when you roll your eyes at their lack of game.
The rest of the boys turn away from the windows to face me.
“We heard you give away free food.” The self-appointed leader swaggers forward.
Or at least that’s what I bet is happening in his mind. He, more like half-drunk, sways and stumbles towards me. My body gets loose as I move my hands in front of Dash, ready to move out of the fool’s way or drop him before he gets near the baby. “No one goes hungry on Willow Street. What can I get you?”
“So, they weren’t lying. You guys really do lure kids in.”
His foul breath hits me, but doesn’t faze me, nor do his words.
“What do we have to do for it?” He winks.
Empathy for what this boy has had to endure to survive fills me. No wonder he’s turned to drugs. It wasn’t like I hadn’t considered doing the same when I was living on the streets. Life would have been easier if I had been high than it was being fully aware, but I couldn’t, not with Daria to take care of.
These boys have a chance at a happy future. “Nothing. There are no strings with Willow Street. You’re safe here.”
“Nothing in life is free,” the small one in the back mutters.
“There are no strings. Eat whatever you like, then walk away or come back for lunch and dinner. It won’t change. What can I get you?”
“I’ll take three croissant, egg, and sausage sandwiches and one of those fancy coffees,” the leader says it more as a challenge than believing I will get it for him.
“Coming right up. What about for the rest of you?”
Maddox sits down with a smile. He doesn’t trust them—but then no one trusts an addict, let alone six at once—but he knows I’ve got this. Handling skittish kids is most of my job.
