Unsocial (61 page)

"I coulda told ya that was a bad idea."

I nod and say quietly, "I know you would have, and I didn't
want you too. It was just supposed to be one night, but it turned into
something so much more."

She huffs and before she can interrupt I say, "Please listen.
Maybe it was always more. There was a physical attraction since day one,
obviously, but it quickly became so much more. There is just something about
Dylan that pulls me to him, and it's not physical. He is an incredible man
Alex, and I'm in love with him."

She scans my face, "You're in love? Is he?"

I nod, "I think so."

"He hasn't said it."

"That part is complicated, but I'm telling you we love each
other."

She sighs, "So it's not just a sex thing?"

"No of course not, I wouldn't risk my career or his family
for sex, no matter how incredible it is."

"You have a lot on the line, Brooke. I hope you are sure
about this."

"He does too, even more so than I do, but I'm sure I’m in
love with him."

She slouches back into the couch and puts her feet up on the
coffee table, she laughs, "You are so screwed my friend."

I laugh too and lean back with her, "Tell me about it."

"What are you guys gonna do?"

I shake my head, "I have no idea. We were just going to tell everyone
after his case was final; now I don’t know. He says to trust him, which I do,
but I just hope he and Luke don't get into a bigger fight. They are so much
alike and who knows what Luke will do with the upper hand.

"I've only met the kid a couple of times, but he seems
decent. I'm sure he won't turn you guys in."

I shrug, "This has been so hard not telling you Alex."

She lowers her head, "I'm sorry you felt the need to hide it
from me, I truly am, but the thing with Jax hurts too, ya know.  I don’t like
to think I was being used to stay out of you and Dylan’s way.”

“I hate that you think that. Dylan or I neither one knew anything
about you two sleeping with each other. Dylan would never suggest that.  And I
don’t think that’s the reason Jax slept with you.  Dylan’s said several times
that Jax thinks you’re hot, and he let his attraction be known long before that
night. I hate seeing you hurt."

She smiles at me sadly, "I know, it's the same for me."

I nudge her side with my arm, "So why were you with Jax today?"

"Nothing as good as what you and Dylan were doing today. I
had a free afternoon at the salon and went to hang out with Jax at the garage."

"But you aren't sleeping together?"

"No, we haven't slept together since January, but we became
friends and still text and hang out occasionally."

"How have we not talked about this?”

She laughs, "We've both been busy."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too, and I won't judge you about this thing with Dylan.
If you love him and know it's worth it, then I’ll have your back all the way.”

A knock on our door interrupts us, and she smiles, "That's
probably for you. I'm going to my room."

She walks down the hall to her room leaving me to open the door to
Dylan looking worried and helpless, much like I feel. I open my arms, and he
moves right into them to give and receive comfort and reassurance.

We are going to get through this, together, come hell or high
water. It's us against the world.

Dylan

I’m a fucking wreck watching Brooke leave, especially seeing the
fear in her eyes.  I know Luke isn’t going to report Brooke. No matter how
angry he is with me right now, I know he wouldn’t stoop to something like that.
Pulling myself away from the open door, I check the time and realize it’s time
to pick up the kids.

On the way home I half listen to them talk about their day, but I
can’t pull my mind from the need to see Brooke.  I know she said we would talk
on the phone tonight, but I can’t wait that long. I need to see her now, so
after showering, I tell Cassie that I need to go out for a while, and she’ll
need to help the kids with their homework. Luke hasn’t come up from his room
since storming out earlier, and I’m not going to attempt to talk to him until I
see Brooke. Both of need time to cool off, and going to see Brooke will help
calm me like it always does.  I know it seems desperate, and there isn't a part
of me that gives a fuck because I am desperate to be with her, to know that she
is okay.

When she opens the door to her apartment and immediately opens her
arms to me, I pull her in tight to my body, giving and receiving strength from
each other.  We stand in a tight embrace for long moments in her open doorway,
neither of us saying a word.

She slowly pulls away, "I'm so glad you're here. We have to
talk."

Shit.
That’s the classic line
spoken just before people break up.
Fuck that. I'm not going anywhere
without a fight.
"Brooke, do you still trust me?”

She looks confused by my question, "Of course I do."

We make our way over to the sofa in her apartment, "Good
because I came over to tell you that it's going to be okay. Today was fucked up,
but part of me is glad it happened."

"You are?"

"Yeah, I hate not being able to tell anyone we’re together.
I’m tired of all the sneaking around and lying. I’m sick to fucking death of
hiding how we feel and only getting stolen moments.”

"I hate all that too, but Luke is so angry.  Have you talked
to him?”

I shake my head, "Not yet. I promise I will tonight, but
right now I think we need a cooling-off period.”

"Dylan, if he tells anyone, we would be screwed.”

"I know, but really who is he going to tell that will get us
into trouble?"

She wrings her hands, "I don't know. A teacher or a friend's
parent they could all report it. Or the judge when he talks to them at the
hearing. What if Luke tells him."

I gather her hands in mine, "Brooke, that’s not going to
happen. The likelihood of that is fucking low.  I’ll talk to him and make him
see how much we care for each other, that this isn’t just some temporary fling.
I know we can't go out in public until all this is over, but now we can be a
couple. We could even tell the rest of the kids about us.”

She looks horrified at the thought, "I would love to tell the
kids, but they’re easy to excite and accidentally let things slip. That can’t
happen yet. We absolutely cannot risk them being put in foster homes. I can’t
let that happen, Dylan.” There is real fear in her voice, and I don’t miss the
fact that it’s paranoia about the kids being taken away instead of the threat
of losing her job.

I know she’s right, but it still frustrates the hell out of me. It
still doesn’t stop me wanting to scream with frustration.  I want to yell it
from rooftops, take out a full page add, dammit, I would even hire a sky writer
to let every fucking body know that I love Brooke Porter.

Wait, I love Brooke?

Oh, shit, I’m in love with Brooke.

"Okay, we won't tell the kids, but Jax damn well won't say
anything, and I'm sure Alex won't either."

She smiles softly, "No, she's actually working on accepting
it."

"Good. So that leaves Luke, and he and I will talk tonight.
After that, it’s not going to be a huge deal anymore. Then very soon, as soon
as fucking possible, we’re going live with our relationship.”

She grants me a brief smile before her face changes to one of
intense concern, “Dylan, this is important, you have to go home and make sure
Luke doesn't do something he will regret. I can't live with myself if the kids
end up in foster care because of me."

Her hands tremble in mine, so I pull her onto my lap to hold her
closer.  I can tell she’s gone to a far off place, and I want to pull her back
to the present with me. I kiss the top of her head, "That isn't going to
happen. What's going on with you, Brooke? Talk to me."

She pulls her head up to look at me, "I just...I feel like
I've failed. My first family as a social worker, and I fall in love and bring
possible danger to their doorstep. I know what foster care is like, and I'll be
damned if I will see any of the Monroe children go to one. It may sound crazy
considering I take kids to foster homes several times a week.

Something about the way she says she knows what foster care is like
is telling me she has personal experience in the system. "Brooke, were you
in foster care?"

She nods, "Temporarily, yes, but that’s not the point."

"I think it is, did something happen?"

She shrugs her shoulder like the answer to my question is no big
deal. But I can tell it made her uncomfortable to have to answer. This causes
my heart to start a pounding rhythm, "Not really. I just know foster care
can be a blessing, but sometimes it can be hell. And I also know that people
fall through the cracks.”

I brush her temple with my lips and remind her, "Open book,
babe."

She sighs, "Dylan, it's really nothing."

"Then tell me.”

She sighs heavily, “When I was 15 my grandma became ill. She had
breast cancer and went through chemo. She got pneumonia really bad, and I had
to call 911 at one o-clock in the morning because she couldn’t breathe. They
wouldn’t let me stay in the hospital with her, and since I was only 15 with
nowhere else to go, they called social services.”

“What about Alex’s family?” I know as close as the two of them are
that she could have stayed with them.

“Her parents were teachers, and they were in Florida for the
summer like always. I usually would go down and stay part of the time with
them, but my grandma was so sick I didn’t want to leave her. It was just a
temporary stay until she could come home.”

It’s hard for me to ask, “Was it bad?”

“The first time wasn’t bad.  She lady was single and in her late
40s. There were two smaller children there. She was what was considered an
emergency temporary foster parent. I could only stay there up to two weeks
before they would find me a family to stay with longer.  Like the lady who had
the kids when you went to pick them up. She’s a sweet lady, and we use her a
lot for temporary foster care.”

I nod, "You said that was the first time, what about the
second time?”

A shudder runs through her, "That time was worse. She had a
stroke not long after coming home, and Alex’s family still had a month before
they were coming home. They offered to fly me down there, but I couldn’t leave
my grandma.  She’s the only family I had, and I was so scared that something
bad would happen, and I wouldn’t be there.  She went in the hospital for three
weeks, and I ended up in a different home."

Her arms tighten around me like she’s trying to ground herself to
here and now and not get lost in then. I’m not sure if I'm prepared to hear
this, but I need to. I need her to be able to talk to me about anything.
"What happened?"

She shrugs, and I think she would make a damn good Monroe. My
heart picks up speed at the thought of her being a Monroe because I swear she
will be.

"It really was nothing. I was placed in a house with a couple
in their 40s who didn't have children of their own. There were two other girls
there around my age; I didn’t know them.  They didn’t go to my school. The
woman was always angry.  She hated us and would call us sluts or tramps. Didn't
take me long to figure out her behavior was because of her husband. He was a
total creep. Always making inappropriate comments and touching us. Like rubbing
our shoulders or putting his hands on our knees when he would sit too close.
Sometimes he brushed his hand across our butts when we walked by. It was so
disgusting and dirty."

I swallow the lump in my throat. I don't like where this is going.

She continues, "He never really crossed the line until I had
been there about a week. The bathroom door
conveniently
had no lock, and
he just walked in as I was coming out of the shower. He knew I was in the
shower, and he waited until he heard the water turn off to come in. I just know
it."

My fists clench in my lap as I listen to Brooke’s story, "Did
you report the sonofabitch?"

She nods, "I called the social worker’s number, and she told
me that I was probably mistaking affection for abuse and that the shower
incident was an accident. Of course, it was because I hadn’t grown up with a
father and I could easily confuse the two."

"What the fuck? She didn't do anything?"

She shakes her head. “The guy was a trucker, so he wasn't home all
that often, and I got pretty good at avoiding him. I decided to keep my head
down until my grandma got better."

She laughs sadly, "It worked for about a week and a half, but
then I messed up. It was late, and I couldn’t sleep, so I snuck out from the
room I shared with the other two girls to watch TV in the living room. There
was one TV in the house, and it was always for the adults to use. He came
barging in the house smelling like cigarettes and alcohol. I could tell by the
look on his face when he saw me that I needed to get out of there."

My whole body tenses. I swear if this fucker touched her, I don't
care how long ago it was, I'm going to find him. "Brooke."

"Nothing happened. I mean, not really. He sat down next to me
before I could escape. He grabbed my thigh just below my sleep shorts and
called me a tease.  He said we were all driving him crazy and were always
trying to tempt him. He tried to kiss me, and I turned away, but he pinned me
down. Finally, I brought my knee up enough to hit him in the balls, and when he
jerked away, I punched him in the throat. After that, I hauled ass to the next
door neighbors.”

I’m angry for what she had to go through but so glad she was able
to get away from him. "What happened after that?"

"They called the cops. All three of us girls were taken to
another home, and then my grandma got well enough to come home not long after
that. But, Dylan, that’s why we can’t let the kids go into foster care.  I was
just there a couple of weeks and look what happened.  Just from working in
social services I could tell you dozens more stories that are even worse than
my experience.”

"That's why you became a social worker and why it means so
damn much to you."

"Yeah, I suppose. I grew up without a real family.  My
grandmother was so wonderful, and I love and appreciate her for stepping in and
raising me when my own parents wouldn’t even try, but I still always wanted a
family of my own. That’s why I do what I do, for the families and to keep them
together. I just want to do what little I can to improve on a flawed system. My
first week as a social worker I looked up that last family I was with to make
sure they weren't foster parents, which they aren’t. But I noticed that before
my call to the police that night that the man had been reported three other
times as being inappropriate."

I know the system can be bad, but come the fuck on, "And they
didn't do anything?"

"No. Social work has quite the reputation for being a
profession where you are overworked and underpaid. Unfortunately, things like
this get missed, but with every case, I make it a goal to try to do some good.
All that paperwork I do, a lot of that is looking for any complaints from my
clients who are in foster care. I just want to do some good for the families
that truly deserve to be together.”

"You do a lot of good. Everyone you work for is lucky to have
you on our side.”

Her face falls, "Are they? Look at the position your family
is in."

I furrow my brow, "Of course they are. And so are we.  Stop
worrying about us so much.  We’re going to be fine."

"I just, I don't know, Dylan. What if I’ve messed up and end
up failing you and the kids?”

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, and please don't get me wrong, but what if I
should have had your case reassigned from the beginning, or at least when I
knew that I was too attracted to you and in danger of losing my
professionalism.
The lines were blurred
from the beginning, and I can't help but question my decision to continue being
your social worker."

It hurts she feels this way, "You haven't done anything wrong.
You’ve been willing to go above and beyond for us whenever one of us called,
and that was before we started dating.”

“Maybe I’m showing too much favoritism.”

“No, that doesn’t mean you’re doing any more for us than the
others.”