Caleb (The Unseen Series Book 1) (4 page)

“SJ, are you listening?” Julie says, bringing me out of my thoughts.

“Sorry, I was thinking about something,” I reply. “What were you saying?”

“I said, there’s this really lovely foster home for children in Washington Highlands,” she repeats.

“Why are you telling me that?” I ask suspiciously.

“Hear me out—”

“No!” I instantly stop her. “You want to separate me from the twins.”

“Not at all, I just thought it would be a nice temporary home for them until you get back on your feet.”

“So I can stay there with them?” I ask sarcastically.

“Well... no, not really. It’s just a stop gap.”

“You want to take them away from me.”

“Let’s be honest SJ, you were never really in a position to raise one child, let alone two.”

“I’m perfectly capable of raising the twins. Why can’t you be supportive and help? I don’t beat them, I don’t do drugs, and I’m not an alcoholic. Aren’t there plenty of people out there that you can harass and just let me get on with raising my children?”

“I may suggest your mental health be assessed.”

“What? Why?”

“You have the children calling you ‘Mommy’ and you call them your children when they’re your siblings.”

“Mommy, what’s a si-ling?” Maddie asks.

“Guys, can you go to your room for a bit and play while I talk to Julie?”

“I’m hungry,” Mitch whines.

“I’m going to make dinner shortly, okay?”

“Okay,” he replies. Taking his sisters hand, they walk off to the bedroom.

I turn back to Julie and lower my voice. “I have guardianship of them. I didn’t correct them because it’s too confusing at this age for them. Their teachers at preschool fully understand, and I intend to explain the situation to them when they’re a little older, until then I’m their mother.”

“No, you’re their sister and I’m going to do what I can to make sure they have a healthy upbringing without all this disruption and confusion,” she threatens.

“The court granted me guardianship. What is your problem?”

“I don’t like seeing children raised in an unhealthy environment. Come on SJ, you’re twenty-one and have your whole life ahead of you. Why do you want to be stuck raising your brother and sister? I can find the twins a nice home together so they won’t be split—”

“It’s not happening!” I yell. “You said you came to help me, but you clearly aren’t helping me and now you can leave,” I say, standing up and walking toward the door. I open it for her and wait for her to cross the threshold. “Don’t come back unless you have a real reason to be here. I’m going to call the child protection agency when you leave and tell them how you’re harassing me and trying to manipulate me. I’m also going to make an appeal to the court to have my social worker changed.”

“Good luck with that, SJ. Who do you think they’re going to believe?” She concludes before sauntering off down the stairs.

I close the door and fall back against it, quietly sobbing into my hands.
What the hell am I going to do?

Chapter 4

Sitting
in my office early Monday morning I’m alerted to a commotion happening outside my door. “You can’t just go in,” I hear Debbie say and then I hear the most beautiful sound.

“Please, I just need two minutes,” SJ responds. I stalk toward the door and swing it open.

“It’s okay Debbie. Come in SJ,” I say and she moves quickly past me and into my office.

“Why did you do that?” she asks. I’m pretty sure I know what she’s talking about but I fake ignorance. “You know what I’m talking about Caleb, all the new bathrooms.”

“Oh that, yeah I thought I’d replace all of them. When I checked it out, it looked really old and outdated,” I explain.

“But you’re tearing the place down in a couple of months, all that money is being wasted,” she says and I don’t know if she’s happy or upset about it.

“I’ll donate the bathroom suites before we tear it down.” I watch her visibly relax.

“Really? That makes me feel better then.” She calms down, but is still shaking.

“You don’t like money being wasted, do you?” I ask and her eyes lock with mine. “The other night, I could see it on your face when I handed you the second pizza.”

She closes her eyes and turns away from me. “I’m sorry if I offended you, I thought I kept the emotions off my face.”

“It wasn’t your face that gave it away, it was just the way you spoke to Mitchell about it.” She frowns, clearly trying to remember what she may have said. “I wasn’t offended in the slightest, seeing the other woman’s face light up, knowing she could now feed her children was worth bringing the extra pizza over.”

“Claire,” she mumbles.

“What?”

“The woman’s name is Claire,” she says and I nod. “She has three children under five years old.”

“She has her hands full,” I say. “Does she have a job?”

“Not at the moment, her ex husband found her at the last four she’s had and now she’s too scared to go out.”

“Why?”

“She’s a victim of domestic abuse, each of her children were conceived after she was raped by the man who was supposed to love her. He beat her black and blue. When we found her she was pregnant. We managed to secure her an apartment in our building and are trying our best to help her.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to understand what a small act of kindness can do for someone like Claire. The day after we gave her the pizza, she went for a job interview and another two the day after that. We’re all keeping our fingers crossed for her.”

“Where did you find her?”

“In the hospital. Social services was there trying to decide if the children needed to be taken. The old landlord always kept social workers informed of unoccupied apartments, so when he got a call looking for accommodation for a family, he asked me and Rita to help her settle in. With him being a man, he didn’t want to scare her off.”

“Did Rita help you settle in too?” I ask.

“No, I was there before Rita,” she answers.

“How did you end up there?”

“That’s a story I’m not ready to share. Let’s just say, our old landlord understood a thing or two about living on the streets and tried to keep as many people off of them as possible. He didn’t ask for a security deposit and gave everyone their first month rent free, giving us enough time to settle in and sort ourselves out.”

Was she on the streets? Did she have her kids at the time? I want to ask, I want to know but I know she’s not ready to tell me that yet.

“Are you okay?” I ask, noticing she seems less bubbly than usual.

“I’m fine,” she says with an unconvincing smile. Why is she lying to me? “Anyway, I need to get to work. I just wanted to thank you for the new bathrooms and plumbing, everyone was so excited to use the new stuff.”

“You’re welcome, SJ. I hope to see that smile on your face again soon,” I say and she bows her head, blushing profusely. “Actually SJ, are you busy Saturday evening?”

“I don’t know, depends if any overtime comes up. Why?”

“I would like to take you to dinner,” I say.

“Can I let you know?”

“Of course and thank you for stopping by—you’ve really made my Monday morning better.”

She smiles, giggles and waves before walking out the door. I sit back in my chair and smile to myself, my stomach feels like a net of butterflies have been let loose. I suddenly sit upright in my chair, shocked at what I’d been thinking. When did I start getting these feelings for her? And when did I turn into a hormonal teenage girl with a crush?
Butterflies Caleb, really?

***

“Come in,” Grayson calls from the other side of the door.

“Hey man,” I say as I enter his office.

“Big brother, to what do I owe this visit?” Grayson says without looking up—he’s too busy meticulously arranging and rearranging everything on his desk.

“Well, little brother,” I mock him. “I need advice.”

He looks up, mouth agape and starts to feign hyperventilating, while flapping his hands around. “Oh God, Caleb Slate wants my advice.” I raise an impatient eyebrow and he stops instantly.

“Are you finished?” I check.

“Yep.” He smirks, going back to precisely positioning the phone on his desk. “What’s up?”

“I think I’m developing
feelings
for someone,” I say as I furrow my brow.

“Wow, so the tin man really does have a heart,” he replies with such sarcasm, I almost lean across the desk and punch him. I settle on narrowing my eyes instead.

“Apparently so,” I respond as lightly as I can.

He seems to be happy with the placement of everything on his desk and leans back in his chair, resting his foot on his knee, placing his elbows on the arms of his chair and linking his fingers together in front of his chest. “What can I help you with?”

“Well—” I start when I’m interrupted by a knock at the door. I look to Grayson and he shrugs.

“Come in,” he calls out, sitting back up in his chair and straightening the lapels of his suit jacket.

“Grayson, you wanted to see—” The man who enters the room stops dead when he sees me, clearly unsure of what to say.

“Logan,” I address my youngest brother with a nod of the head. You would think from this reaction that there’s animosity between us, but in fact it’s the complete opposite, though Logan seems to get really nervous around me lately.

“Caleb, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he answers.

I go over and give him a hug, patting him on the back. “You know I still work in the building, right?”

“Yeah I know, it’s just this is Grayson’s office.”

“And you can’t pretend you haven’t seen me and walk off,” I say. He gives me a perplexed look. “You’ve been avoiding me since we last spoke.”

“No,” he replies while looking at his feet. Where Grayson and I have blue eyes, fair skin and stand at six foot two inches. Logan has brown eyes, tanned skin and stands at a mere five foot ten inches. His accent is also American, while mine and Grayson’s are Irish with an American twang. That’s probably to do with the age we moved here from Ireland. I was fourteen, Grayson was twelve, and Logan was only nine. Logan grew up with our father, his new wife and step children. Grayson and I grew up together in boarding school, so not many people believe we are all brothers. “I was going to swing by and see you this week.”

“Has your nose always been that big or you lying to me?” I goad him and begin to chuckle. He just diverts his eyes back to the floor. “It’s okay Logan, I may not understand your reasons for stepping down as the CEO, but it was your decision.”

After finishing school, I stayed with Edward for a couple of years while I waited for Grayson to graduate. I tried many times to contact Logan, but our father insisted Logan didn’t want us in his life, so Grayson and I went back to Ireland for six months before receiving a call to say our father had died suddenly. The circumstances surrounding his death were suspicious, but I wasn’t coming back to find out what happened to him. I was coming back to support my brother. After all, my father was the underboss of one of the most notorious crime boss’ in America. As far as I was concerned, it’s one more piece of trash off the street. At the reading of his last will in testament, Logan was left everything. As you can imagine, our father’s wife was not impressed, but his children and step-children really weren’t bothered. After giving a good chunk of money to our step-sister, two step-brothers, and leaving the house to our father’s wife, he asked us to join him at Slate Security and severed all ties to the New Jersey crime family. That was until Vitale asked for our services. Something was off from the moment Logan stepped into the Slate Security building. He’d see someone, become pale and cower in the opposite direction. It didn’t take long before he handed the day to day running of the company over to me and six months ago I handed it to Grayson. Logan remained the CEO until a few months ago, when he also just handed it over to Grayson. I know Logan has a side business of sorts similar to me and works out of Slate Security, but no one knows what he does. He just became very secretive all of a sudden. When I questioned him about stepping down as CEO, he only told me that his priorities had changed.

Logan gives me a tight smile before turning his attention to Grayson. “You wanted to see me?”

“Yeah,” Grayson replies. “It was just to quickly to tell you, one of the senior executives has had to take a leave of absence.”

“Why?” he asks, fiddling with a pencil on Grayson’s desk. I have to stifle a laugh as Grayson’s jaw clenches so tightly. I’m surprised his teeth haven’t crumbled.

“It has something to do with his daughter being abducted,” Grayson responds and looks to me, images of Molly instantly fill my mind.

“This has to do with me because...” Logan’s brow furrows and he places the pencil back on Grayson’s desk.

“I need you to take over for him until he returns,” he replies, picking up the pencil and placing it back in its rightful place.

“Can’t Caleb do it?” Logan asks.

“I’m not in security anymore,” I point out.

“Neither am I,” Logan counters. “I’m extremely busy. I’m sorry Grayson, but I can’t.”

“Not a problem, we can deal without him. Hopeful his daughter turns up alive. He’ll want bereavement leave if she’s dead,” Grayson mutters and then looks contrite at how insensitive he’s being.

“He should have had protection for her then, shouldn’t he?” Logan shrugs, being as equally insensitive but not at all embarrassed before turning to walk out the door. I watch as he walks away looking like the cat that got the cream. I wonder what he finds so amusing.

“Caleb,” Grayson’s voice pulls my attention from my youngest brother’s back.

“What?” I snap my head around toward him.

“You wanted advice?” he asks.

“Never mind, I’ve got to go,” I say and walk toward the door, calling over my shoulder as I leave, “I’ll talk to you later.”

As I’m leaving the building, I decide I don’t really want to go home to a large empty house, so instead I take another trip back to Fort Lincoln. I park in front of SJ’s building and head up the stairs. A stale smell lingers, but it’s not as potent as it was. I knock on the door and wait but after a few minutes, there’s no answer. An Indian woman comes out from the apartment next door, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Can I help you with something?” she asks, sounding a little pissed off and like I’ve interrupted something.

“I’m looking for SJ,” I reply in a calm tone.

“Who are you?” she asks, still extremely suspicious.

“I’m Caleb Slate, a friend of SJ’s.”

“Ah, so you’re Mr. Slate, the man who is kicking sixty children out onto the street,” she snipes.

“That’s enough, Rita.” SJ’s voice comes from behind us.

“So now you’re friends with this man?” She turns on SJ.

“I suppose I am,” SJ replies simply.

“He’s the enemy!” Rita shouts.

“No he’s not,” SJ says soothingly and puts her arm around her friend. “Life is the enemy, we are all just players in its game.”

“Whatever SJ, but don’t come crying to me when you and the twins are on the street and this man—who could have prevented it—is nowhere to be seen.” Rita concedes and I feel something in my chest, a tightening in the place my heart should be.

“I have beef.” SJ smiles and waves a blood stained plastic bag in the air.

“How many times have I told you not to take free stuff from that sleazy boss of yours? One day SJ, he’s going to want to be paid back. I see the way he looks at you and
touches
you.” Rita shudders.

“I’ll deal with that when ‘one day’ comes, but right now, we can eat.” SJ’s smile is huge and my chest tightens again. “Beef stew sound good?”

“How old is the beef?” Rita asks.

“Its just beginning to turn but as long as it’s thoroughly cooked, it’s still edible,” SJ responds and I don’t think I can listen to too much more of this conversation. “Can you start doing the rounds and find out who wants food tonight, that way Caleb and I can start cooking.”