Too Much: A Loveswept Contemporary Erotic Romance (All or Nothing) (11 page)

“Carrie, you cannot keep doing this. Judge Morrison is going to put you away in Little Sing Sing if you keep it up,” Daly said in a low voice.

“I. Don’t. Care,” the thirteen-year-old responded.

Carrie’s tone was defeated but defiant. Daly rubbed a hand over her forehead. The kid was up to her eyeballs in trouble. If not for Daly’s phone call to Judge Morrison, she would once again be in the youth detention center.

“Okay then, let’s brass-tacks it,” Daly bit out, continuing in spite of the confusion on the little redhead’s face. “
I
can’t keep doing this with
you
, Carrie. Your mother is not coming back and you’re going to end up in a cell with her if you continue breaking the damn law. What is your problem?”

Anger pierced Daly. Her day didn’t need a petulant child. It simply did not need this. Judge Morrison had revoked the kid’s probation immediately when she’d been arrested last Friday. Daly had been contacted, and as Carrie’s social worker in the Juvenile Justice system it had been her duty to find out what was going on with the child.

“You ran away from the youth home, Carrie. Why?”

“I just—”

Daly held up her hand. “Yeah, my bad. Wrong question. Let’s try this one—why did you immediately head to Wally World and steal a knife?”

“See, that’s the—”

Daly raised her other hand. Her head was pounding. “Okay, let me try once more. You had an opportunity to get your stuff together and instead of studying, doing homework, and all the other things kids are supposed to do, you ran away, stole a knife, and threatened a damn officer with it. What is going through your mind, Carrie?”

The girl’s lips compressed and twin flags of red dotted her cheeks. Her anger was palpable, and then her eyes watered. A single tear fell, then another and another.

“Carrie, I went out of my way to get you into that home. I called in so many favors I’m in debt to others now.” Daly sat down beside the girl and sighed. “You had a chance, and now this? I don’t understand. Help me understand.”

It was a plea. This child—well, young woman now—had been in the system since the age of three. In and out of foster homes, she was such a behavior problem word had gotten around.
The Department of Family and Children’s Services hadn’t been able to find her a home after her last stint in the youth detention center. Daly saw the child’s fear underneath all the bravado and it struck a chord in her. Carrie’s mom was gone, lost to drugs and now in prison. She was alone, and Daly knew what it was like to be without a mother. She also knew stubbornness, which Carrie had in spades. But the kid had a will to survive and Daly had gone to bat for her, finagling a way to her get into a girls’ home in Macon.

Carrie wiped her face and snorted. “You won’t listen. I keep trying to talk and you keep holding up your hand all fabulous-like and interrupting me. That’s not very polite, by the way,” she replied heatedly.

For the first since she’d woken up alone this morning, Daly smiled. “ ‘Fabulous-like’?”

The redhead huffed. “Yeah. It’s a thing. You should know, because you’ve done it all morning.”

“I’ve had a crap day already, Carrie. Finding out you messed up this way hasn’t improved it. If I want to act all
fabulous-like
, I think I’ve got dibs, yeah?”

Carried didn’t answer and refused to look at her. Daly sighed again.

“Officer Edwards?” Though she was a social worker with the DJJ, she was an officer of the court.

Daly held her hand up and walked toward her friend and also clerk of Juvenile Courts, Chelsea Green. “That’s me.”

“You’re taking our lovely Miss Carrie Broaddus today?”

Daly turned and gazed at the young lady who’d had more than her fair share of trouble in her short life. “Yes,” she responded sourly.

Carrie winced, and Daly shrugged. Life was hard all the way around, and she’d be damned if she’d coddle this girl. Daly had never been about false advertising.

She signed the papers and sighed the sigh of hundreds of pressed-upon social workers.

“Thanks, Chelsea. I owe you for the Clemmons case from last week,” she said as she waited for the clerk to wrap all the paperwork up.

Chelsea smiled and handed her a thick envelope. “Yes, you do. I’ll take supper at MacGuire’s Friday. You game?”

“MacGuire’s, huh? Yeah, it’s a date,” Daly said, and smiled before she turned back to Carrie. “Let’s go, kid.”

Carrie glared at her. “Where we goin’?”

“Wherever I take you. You keep giving me attitude and I may just drop your behind on the street and speed off.”

“I’ll report you for abandonment.”

Daly smiled at the girl’s spunk. “You could try.”

They left the DJJ office. They had just turned a corner to head out the main entrance of the courthouse when Daly plowed into a hard, male body.

“I’m so sorr—”

His big hands grabbed her shoulders and the air around her charged.
Jeremiah.

“It’s my fault.” He didn’t drop his hands.

She glanced where he was caressing her shoulder and wished she wasn’t wearing a coat. Daly closed her eyes and said, “You can let me go now.”

He chuckled deep in his throat and stepped back. Her gaze touched on his face. He’d left at some point early this morning and she’d woken with his smell on her sheets and pillows, but no warmth. After what happened last night, she wondered if she was losing her mind.

He always did that to her. Made her want impossible things.

“What are you here for?” she asked without preamble.

“To see David.”

“Ah, the light dawns. Good luck with that, then,” Daly responded inanely. The man scrambled her brains. She turned to Carrie. “Let’s go, Trouble.”

Jeremiah stared at her and a smile curved his lips. Then his gaze landed on Carrie.

Carrie raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, to which Jeremiah did the same. Her look screamed “Don’t fuck with me.” Jeremiah’s whispered “I recognize you,” and by the way Carrie’s cheeks flushed, she had no idea what to do with that.

“Who are you?” she asked belligerently, and damn if the tiny thing didn’t try to push Daly behind her.

“Who are
you
?” Jeremiah asked in return.

Carrie raised her chin and glared at him. “Nobody you should fuck with, that’s for sure.”

Daly choked on a laugh. “Watch your language, young lady,” she said firmly.

“Whatever. You want to mess with this dude here, that’s on you, but I’m hungry and I’d like a meal before I walk Death Row.”

Daly let out a long, put-out sigh. “If you’ll excuse Miss Potty Mouth and me …”

Jeremiah smiled at her again and the heat in it curled her toes. “I’m bringing supper tonight,” he said in a low voice as she passed him.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” she said with a serene smile. It had been token resistance at best. Her body was screaming at her even now that the distance between them was too great.

He seemed puzzled, then shrugged. “Unless you want to come to my place?”

That stopped her in her tracks. Carrie grunted and sat down in a chair by the front entrance of the courthouse. Daly glanced back at Jeremiah. “Um, yeah, no. You can come to
me.”

His mouth did that delicious quirk-at-the-corner thing once more and his gaze tracked down her entire body and back up again. “That’s what I’m hoping.”

Get out get out get out get out now!
Her stomach flip-flopped and she almost sank into a puddle at his feet. Now that she’d had another taste of him, her body didn’t want to let go. Instead of attacking him in front of God and everybody, she straightened her spine, flipped her hair over her shoulders, and gestured for Carrie to follow her.

Then she walked out of the courthouse feeling his gaze on her the entire way.

Damn.

“Smooth, real smooth,” Carrie muttered.

“Your sarcasm is duly noted,” Daly replied with an eye roll.

Carrie switched from foot to foot, almost hopping as Daly paid the parking attendant and waited for him to bring her car around. “You should take some lessons. Old boy in there was hot—as in
h-a-w-t
, and you totally stammered in front of him. I’m calling you out, Officer Edwards … flirting fail.”

“I’ve got tape in the car, Carrie,” Daly murmured.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Carried asked as the attendant pulled up.

Daly walked around to the driver’s side and smiled at her over the top of the car. “For your mouth.”

Carrie frowned, Daly smiled, and they both got in. She pulled into traffic and finally merged onto Interstate 85 heading north.

“Where are we going?” Worry threaded the girl’s tone.

Daly glanced at her, then back to the road. “I’ve called in my final favor for you, Carrie Jeanette Broaddus. You’re going to the Lanier Home for Misplaced Girls.”

“I’m not misplaced,” she nearly yelled.

“Lower your voice and talk to me like you have some sense,” Daly said firmly. “I know you aren’t misplaced, but you
are
mismanaged. And believe me, you won’t be where I’m taking you.”

Fear crossed Carrie’s face and Daly’s heart wrenched. Every kid she worked with moved her in some way. A few made her smile. And some were downright pains in the ass. No matter what, they were all worth it.

“Death Row, huh?”

Daly cocked her head and bit her lip, contemplating how to best describe the place to a very scared young teen. “Not quite.”

Carrie snorted and crossed her arms. “Resounding endorsement there, Officer Edwards.”

“Look, this is the last place that would take you in. I used my very last contact for you,
my ace in the hole if you will,” she said angrily as she pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway. “Look at me, Carrie,” she demanded, then waited.

Carrie’s face held a mutinous expression, but her eyes were full of panic. And pain. Daly’s eyes watered.
Stupid freaking waterworks.
She’d seen that look too many times. On Toby, Ruthie, Jeremiah, and more recently every single child who’d come into her life because of her job.

She took a deep breath and looked straight ahead. “It’s up on Lake Lanier. Lots of green hills and water. There are five other girls in this home. You’ll be the sixth. Candace doesn’t usually take in so many, but the others are all like you and your story made her curious.”

Candace had grown up as hard as Jeremiah and his siblings. The streets were cruel when you had no family. Kids engaged in survival. Candace’s parents had died and none of her family had taken her in. She’d been shuffled from foster home to foster home until she’d finally decided to go it alone. Once she’d grown up, she’d been determined to help kids in the same situation. She’d established an all-girl’s home for just that purpose.

Silence reigned.

“If you mess up here, Carrie, it’s all over. I can’t help you anymore. If you screw this up, you’ll end up in the system within days and you’ll never get out.” She looked at the kid once more. “Do you understand?”

Something in her words or tone must have gotten through. Carrie nodded slowly and went back to staring out the window.

“I believe in you. Inside of you is something I’ve only seen in wonderful people. Use this opportunity to be
more
,” she said, and then put the car in gear.

Her words rang back to her. She should take her own advice and really jump all the way in with Jeremiah. Because when she was with him she was … 
more.
Yes, they needed to deal with the past, but maybe this was their second chance. Her mind settled down but her heart continued to pound as she pulled back onto the highway. Life was so difficult sometimes.

She had an overabundance of hope for Carrie. Maybe hope was enough.

* * *

Jeremiah had never been inside this courthouse for anything other than his own trials. First as a juvie, then as an adult, he’d seen it only through the eyes of desperation. Then he’d run into Daly today and the entire building had taken on a brand-new life. Her office was in the building across the street from the courthouse. She was part of the Department of Juvenile Justice, but the social workers kept offices in the same building as the Department of Family and Children’s Services.

He’d left her this morning after watching her sleep the entire night. He was exhausted, but it had been worth it. Sharing her air and being able to count each gentle rise and fall of her chest had calmed him.

But now he was here and he had business to take care of.

He strode into the District Attorney’s office and waited patiently at the desk to be noticed.

“Can I help you?” a secretary asked.

He didn’t smile at her. This wasn’t a social call. “I’m here to see David Copeland.”

Confusion passed over her face like a cloud. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Well, he only sees people on appointment,” she stammered.

Copeland stared at her, unblinking. “Tell him Jeremiah Copeland is here.”

“Just a moment,” she said quickly and disappeared behind a door. She returned several minutes later with that same confused look on her face. “He’ll see you, sir. Right this way.”

He followed her and waited for the silence to fall behind them. One by one, people dropped what they were doing and stared. Copeland would have laughed had he been younger and full of the anger his childhood had built in him. Imagine an upstart from the streets striding in in an Armani suit through their office to see their DA.
Ingrate. Bastard.
Funny how his brother engendered so much goodwill while Jeremiah only managed to remind people of bad things. He’d lost Daly but managed to salvage his brother’s reputation. Not a fair trade at all, in Copeland’s opinion.

The secretary led him into David’s office and twisted her hands together as she gazed everywhere but at Copeland.

“I don’t need anything. You can leave,” he said mildly.

He almost laughed as she practically ran from the office.

“Brother,” David said as he entered from another door. “What brings you here?”

“You.”

“Your timing could be better. I’ve got a meeting with Judge Edwards in about ten minutes. Have a seat.” David motioned to a chair in front of his desk.