“I know. I’ve been less satisfied lately,” she said. “I’m thinking about a change. I see too many lost cases with the kids getting tossed around as if they’re no more important than garbage. There has to be a better way for me to help them than being a social worker. Sometimes I feel like my hands are tied more than at an orgy at a BDSM club.”

  Crew choked on his coffee and she rolled her eyes at him. “Like they don’t use binds at those clubs,” she said.

  “Do you go often?” he asked, slightly horrified.

  “Of course I don’t go, it was just a saying.”

  “I wouldn’t mind some binding at home,” he told her with a wink. He’d recovered quickly, and he’d managed to pull her from the dark place she was heading to.

  “You’re not going to distract me with sex when you had your chance earlier,” Darla warned, a twinkle back in her eyes. “Now you have to wait until tonight.”

  Crew felt the taunt and challenge of her words, and his muscles tensed with the need to take her right there against the counter. He began taking a step toward her. The triumph in her eyes told him that’s exactly what she’d been taunting him for. She wanted to make him cave. She’d nearly accomplished her goal.

  “Good try. But if you want it, just ask,” he said as he leaned back and made sure she could see what she was missing.

  “Nope. Not going to happen. I’m starving,” she told him. He internally groaned. They were playing chicken and she’d totally won . . . again. “I want to go to that diner by the freeway. I love the owner and the food is greasy and excellent.”

  “I love that place. Let’s go,” he said as he grabbed his keys then held out his hand.

  He had a feeling he was going to regret his decision not to take her then and there against the counter. How much was pride really worth in the long run?

  Chapter Eighteen

  Darla both loved and hated home calls. When they were good homes, she adored going to them, meeting the other children in the house, and seeing how people lived. It truly fascinated her. What might be comfort and protection for one person was utter chaos for another.

  Darla was by no means a control freak or a perfectionist, but she did like a clean home and a bit of quiet. She loved an evening sitting outside by a fire with a glass of wine and the hushed sounds of frogs croaking and bats flying.

  People had varying definitions of clean. The home she was going to that afternoon wasn’t a place she enjoyed visiting. She was calling on the parents of a five-year-old little girl who’d been taken from them twice.

  Their house always smelled like animal urine, the sink was messy and full, and the floors looked as if they hadn’t seen a broom or vacuum in at least a year. How could anyone live that way? She understood people got busy. Heck, she got so busy she’d sometimes walk in the house and pass through a cobweb, but once her feet began sticking to the floor, she knew it was time to take a day off to clean.

  If Darla knew people were coming to her house, she went all out with organizing. Her counters were normally cluttered. Sometimes she’d let a month pass before she opened her mail, which got her into trouble once or twice. But she made sure there weren’t dishes in the sink at the end of the day or pieces of garbage lying around.

  Since she’d been with Crew, she’d had to adjust even more. When you shared a place with a person you had to learn their habits, and the older a person got, the harder it was to change.

  Darla pulled up to the rundown home at the end of a street. It wasn’t the most kid-friendly neighborhood in her opinion, but since there were a lot of kids running around, she might be too judgmental. Maybe it really was time for her to get out. She was questioning whether she should’ve brought a cop with her or not. She shook her head. That was nonsense. She’d never experienced anything untoward with these parents. She just didn’t particularly like them.

  Darla grabbed her bag, exited her car, and walked the overgrown path to the front door of the house. Everything in her was screaming turn around and leave. But she knew better than that. She had a job to do, and that sometimes meant she was in uncomfortable situations. She’d figure it out.

  She knocked on the door.

  A voice inside the house yelled out, and Darla had to bite down the urge to leave. If the man yelling was violent, it was her duty to report him. She wasn’t a weak, simpering female. She could handle herself if things turned iffy. She’d taken some self-defense classes. Granted, it had been a while ago, but she’d done a weekend course with Daisy.

  It had been kind of funny when they’d walked out of the class, feeling as if they were superheroes. Neither of them had ever had to test their skills though. Maybe it was time for a refresher course. Darla knew Crew’s brother, Finn, taught them. As a matter of fact, that’s how he’d met his wife. She’d attended his class and taken him down to the ground. She loved hearing him tell the story because he still looked at her with adoration when he told how his tiny little wife was able to take him down. It was quite impressive.

  The door suddenly flung open, and despite her convictions, Darla took a couple of steps back when the furious man in front of her snarled. He was wearing a stained white tank top, ripped jeans, and no shoes. His hair was a mess, he looked as if he hadn’t shaved in four or five days, and his eyes were bloodshot. This wasn’t the same man who’d been in the office two weeks earlier. This was a person on drugs.

  “What in the hell do you want?” he barked.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Dame. I have an appointment to speak with you and your wife today about bringing Misty home,” Darla said. She took another step back but maintained eye contact with the man.

  “We didn’t have no appointment today. This is a trick visit, ain’t it? This is just you and that office trying to sneak up on us to check in and see if we’re suitable.” He took a menacing step toward her, and Darla felt her heart thunder. Her fight or flight mode was definitely kicking in hard core.

  “I’m sorry about the misunderstanding, Mr. Dame, but there is an appointment. I don’t do surprise visits,” Darla told him in a calm voice as if everything was perfectly okay in the world.

  “I don’t believe you,” he snapped. He took another step closer to her. “You took my little girl away. It’s all your fault. And now my wife is being a real bitch and blamin’ me,” he screamed.

  He clearly wasn’t in his right mind. This visit wasn’t going to happen.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Dame. I can see this isn’t a good time. I’m just going to leave,” Darla told him. She backed a few more steps away from him. She didn’t want him to see the fear. She knew men like him thrived on instilling fear in others. She knew he preyed on weakness, so she couldn’t present herself as smaller than him, though she certainly was.

  “You ain’t going nowhere. I want my daughter. Where do you have her?” he thundered as he stepped closer. She really needed to carry mace with her. This situation was getting out of control the more they stood facing each other.

  “Chris, you get in here. Leave Darla alone,” Janet Dame said from the doorway. Her eye was black and her lip was swollen. Darla really needed to get to the safety of her car and call this in. It had the potential of getting really bad really fast.

  “Shut the hell up!” he yelled, turning his attention away from Darla. “You’ve done enough today. Go set your fat ass down!”

  Janet was definitely a defeated woman. She didn’t walk away, but she hung her head as tears fell from her eyes. Darla took that moment to make her break for it. She needed her phone, which was in her car. She didn’t care if he could see her fear now, she just needed to escape.

  She nearly made it to her vehicle when a hand snaked out and grabbed her hair. With her forward motion, it completely knocked her off balance as her feet went forward and her head went back. There was no stopping hitting the ground. He tugged hard as she began falling, and she landed with a hard thump that took her breath away.

  She looked up to find the man towering over her, a sneer on his face. “Where in the hell do you think you’re going? I told you I want my daughter here, now!” he said, his voice growing louder with each word he spoke.

  “I’m going to call now, Mr. Dame,” Darla said, tears in her voice as she tried catching her breath. She knew for sure she had a bruise on her hip and a scrape on her leg and elbow. She didn’t like being below him in such a vulnerable position. She quickly scrambled to her feet, facing him again, not attempting to pick up the bag she’d brought with her.

  He reached out so quickly she didn’t have a chance to defend herself as he grabbed her arms and shook her hard enough to rattle her brain.

  “You get me my daughter or I’m going to kill you,” he said.

  Darla didn’t doubt he’d do just that. “Okay, I have to call,” she said, tears choking her as she struggled against him.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” a man yelled as he jogged up to them. “Chris, what in the hell are you doing?” he asked.

  “You stay out of this, Earl. This is the woman who took my daughter away. She needs to pay,” Chris said.

  “Let her go. You’re already in a crapload of trouble, Chris. Let her go,” the man said.

  “You mind your own business,” Chris said, his fingers clamping even tighter on her arms.

  “I’ve called the police,” a woman shouted from across the street. “You unhand her now or you’re going to be in jail for a very long time.”

  “You meddling bi—” His words were cut off when Earl decked him. His fingers finally let her go. Darla quickly scrambled to the other side of her car as she assessed the situation.

  “Don’t you talk to my wife that way,” Earl said as he kicked Chris, who was now on the ground groaning, his nose bleeding.

  “I wouldn’t have to if she stayed in her house where she belongs,” Chris said.

  “She doesn’t like how you’ve been treating Janet or your daughter. The whole neighborhood is sick of your crap,” Earl said. Chris tried rising and Earl kicked him in the ribs, making him curl up on himself.

  Darla took in her first real breath when she heard sirens. The police were near. Two cars screeched to a stop in front of the house and officers jumped out. They quickly approached and assessed the situation. Darla had a feeling they’d been there before.

  “Ma’am, are you okay?” one of the officers asked.

  “Yes, Mr. Dame was attacking me, but then his neighbor here, Earl, came out and helped me,” she said. “I’m Darla, I work for children services and this was a home visit.”

  The cop nodded at her. “I hope this means little Misty won’t be coming back here. Her mama sure loves her but she won’t keep Chris out of the house. As much as I want to say he’ll be going to jail for a long time after this, he won’t. He’ll be in there a max of twenty-four hours.”

  “Is it going to take killing someone for him to get locked up?” Darla asked, horrified this man would be released with how his violence was escalating.

  “Unfortunately, with our laws, pretty much,” the officer said. “I don’t like it, but my hands are tied.”

  “His wife is really beat up. That should lock him up for at least a week,” Darla said hopefully. Maybe that would be enough time for her to be strong enough to leave him.

  “I doubt it,” the officer said. “She probably won’t press charges.” He obviously knew this family well.

  She gave her statement then pulled Janet aside, gave her a card, and told her to call her if she wanted out. She didn’t try to pressure her, just let her know there were options.

  She left the Dame’s house feeling defeated. One more family that wouldn’t get the help they needed. She ached a little, but she decided right then and there she wasn’t telling Crew about it. He’d come and nearly kill Chris. She certainly didn’t want that to happen or he’d be the one locked up. The system really was messed up.

  Darla stopped at a store and cleaned up a little before she went back to her office. As much as she disliked encounters like that one, and that had been the worst she’d had yet, she really hated sitting in a tiny cubicle where she felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

  She returned to the office to file her paperwork before calling it a day and found a bouquet of roses on her desk.

  She smiled — big.

  Crew didn’t know the hell she’d been through that day, but he’d still managed to cheer her up. It was her first flowers from him. She just might be able to turn him into a romantic after all.

  She opened the card and frowned. There was only one word. How odd.

  Soon

  Chapter Nineteen

  Darla was sitting at a café with Crew sipping on a nice salted caramel coffee and munching on a blueberry scone. It was heaven, pure heaven. The air was cooler even though it was August in Washington. A thunderstorm was blowing in, a welcome relief from the constant heat.

  “Darla, I’m worried about you,” Crew told her. “And before you tell me everything’s just fine, don’t. You’re going through the motions and you still wear a smile on your face, but there’s pain in your eyes that I don’t like.”

  “Are you psychoanalyzing me?” she asked with a false laugh.

  “This has nothing to do with my profession. I think I’ve gotten to know you quite well. Something happened this week, and you’ve closed in on yourself. Tell me what’s wrong,” he demanded.

  Tears welled in her eyes. She was in so much pain.

  She attempted to smile but failed. “You’re right; I’m burned out. My job’s killing me. I feel so damn helpless, and I’m at a crossroads over what I’m going to do,” Darla told him after a minute.

  “You’ve been burned out for a while. Why not do something else?” Crew asked as he reached out and held her hand.

  “I’ve been thinking about that. I hate how the state fails these children over and over again. Everyone talks about parental rights, but what about the rights of the innocent children? It drives me crazy. They put these kids into good, solid, stable foster homes, and then the parents jump through a few minor hoops and they’re ripped right back out again,” Darla told him, slamming her fist down on the table, making her coffee slosh over the side of her cup.

  Crew was thoughtful for a moment before he spoke. “I guess they go back home because deep down most of us want to see children in their family home,” Crew said.

  “Of course it’s ideal to be with mom and dad, or grandparents like in Daisy’s case, but some humans just shouldn’t have children. I’m not saying kids are perfect. There are certainly little jerks out there, but what makes them that way? It should be first and foremost what the kids need, not what the parents need. The parents have had a lifetime to figure out who they are. The kids haven’t. So why don’t we focus more on the kids instead of the parents?”

  “This last case really got to you, didn’t it?” Crew asked.

  Daisy didn’t mention she’d been attacked by a parent. She feared it would send him over the edge.

  “Yeah, it really did.” Darla’s eyes filled with tears. “I could use some rum in this coffee.” She added a laugh that had no amusement in it.

  “Tell me about it. You’ve barely spoken of it,” Crew told her.

  Darla sighed. “Baily’s three years old.”

  “What happened?” Crew gently asked, pushing her again.

  “The parents were meth users and walked away from the hospital after giving birth. They simply abandoned her there. She was born with a cleft lip and palate, and she was in the NICU for three months. Patsy and Jeff were her foster parents. They visited her every single day, getting to hold her as soon as she was stable enough to come out of her bed, then they took her home. They immediately fell in love with her, taking her for her surgeries, and loving on her with all of their hearts.” Darla choked up, grabbed a napkin, wiped her nose, then continued.

  “They have three other children, and I visit once a month. There is no difference in how they, or the children, treat Baily. She’s a part of their family. She’s the children’s sister, and the parents’ daughter. They all love her immeasurably. They began fighting to adopt her the moment she was brought home.”

  “So, what happened?” Crew asked.

  “The biological parents didn’t even attempt to see her for a solid two years, but after the first year they stalled the adoption by taking the mandatory state classes. They did just enough to keep the judge from signing off on the adoption.” Darla choked up again. Crew reached for her.

  “The bottom line is the birthparents managed to get her back a few days ago. I had to rip Baily from the arms of her real mother. Patsy fell to the floor weeping in pain as she said goodbye to her little girl. Her big sister, who’s only six years old, grabbed my leg, her crystal blue eyes pleading at me as tears fell down her face. She begged me not to take Baily away. Her oldest brother, only fourteen and such a beautiful young man, stood in front of me, his arms crossed, a glare of hurt shooting at me from his eyes. He told me what I was doing was wrong. He told me Baily was their family and she needed them. The entire time Baily felt the tension in the room and was sobbing, reaching for her mama. It was the most awful moment of my life.”

  “Oh, Darla, I had no idea,” Crew said with a gasp.

  “I stepped from the house and her oldest brother ran from the door. The officer with me just stood there. He hated what was happening as well. He knew Baily should stay with them. He knew taking her away was wrong. Then Jacob spoke.” Tears were falling down her cheeks.

  “What did he say?” Crew asked. He appeared a little choked up himself, but she was so lost in her story she couldn’t even see Crew at the moment.

  “He stood there, showing the man he’d be some day,” Darla said. “He said: She’s our sister, Ms. Winters. We need her here, and she needs us. Please don’t take her away. We protect her, we love her. She’s our sister. They didn’t want her, they didn’t appreciate her, they didn’t protect her. Please don’t take her. Please don’t take her. I’ll do anything you ask. I’ll do whatever it takes. You can’t take her away. She needs us and we need her. He fell to the ground in front of me and sobbed. This young man, this child on the verge of manhood was begging me.” She sobbed as she paused, taking a moment to compose herself.