Page 19 of Mommy

Guessing the direction of my thoughts, Shelly lets out a deep sigh.

“Sweetheart, let it go,” she says, shaking her head laughing. “You were late once, it’s not a big deal.”

Nodding slowly, I force a fake smile onto my lips.

She can say whatever she wants—they both can actually—it changes nothing for me.

What happened today? That never happens again.

I refuse to let them down again, not my colleagues and not the dogs. After all, I made a promise to be here for them.

When we hear chatter outside and see a family walk down the path towards the front door, I’m the first at the door to introduce myself and greet them.

No way will Shelly or Liam put their coffee aside when I’m right here to handle this. They can enjoy a break while I show these people around and with a little luck, help them give one of our angels a new home.

Chapter twelve

Derek

I’m in a fantastic mood.

That is until I step through the door and I’m informed that there is a girl named Abigail waiting. She asked for me specifically and that can only mean one thing.

Ezekiel told me about the girl he saw with the breeder. He also told me about how she tried to stab Rosemary so he knocked her out and told her to come find me when she changed her mind about sharing information.

I guess today is the day she changed it.

She’s sitting at the table, watching me with hawk eyes and a smirk as I take the chair across from her.

Letting her gaze fall down my form before dragging it back up, she has the audacity to wink when our gazes meet and I wonder how much of a bad bitch she really is and how much is just for show.

Her hair is about as long as Ivory’s, but that’s where the similarity ends. Instead of the light blonde, chaotic strands that fall down Ivory’s back, Abigail’s hair is perfectly straight and so white that I cannot imagine it’s natural.

“Good morning, handsome,” she drawls innocently, grabbing a strand of her unnaturally light hair and twirling it around her finger.

“It’s ‘Good morning, sir’” I correct her and immediately regret it when her lips split into a devilish grin.

Giving me another once over, she leans forward in her chair allowing me a glance down her cleavage. The gesture alone has my mood plane crashing into the ground, but it only gets worse from there.

“Yes, Sir,” she murmurs, putting a tone in her voice that is anything but respectful.

“You wanted to speak with me, Miss?” I ask, praying that this isn’t the girl Ezekiel sent my way.

God seems to be too busy for my little concerns because Abigail leans back in her chair and tucks her hair behind her ear on one side. The gesture exposes a small, nude coloured bandaid.

Sighing dramatically, Abigail lets her gaze wander through the room.

“Yeah. You must be Derek.” She lets the hair fall back down, covering her injury. “Your good friend told me to ask for you.”

There’s no doubt that she is referring to Ezekiel.

I’m thankful, she doesn’t mention how he told her. The circumstances aren’t necessarily best discussed at a police station.

Most of my colleagues are complete idiots for one of two reasons: one, they are human scum and don’t care about making the world a better place or two, they want to make the world a better place and actually believe that working here will make that happen. But there are still a few here that have the brain capacity to put two and two together.

Abigail’s smile says she knows that. Don’t get fooled by the large blue eyes and long fake lashes, Abigail apparently isn’t half as stupid as she tries to make everyone believe.

“I think you have a statement to make?”