MARCELO
Iâm sitting in the hospital when the head of social services shows up. She wants rape kits taken and police statements recorded. Itâs about time they start taking action.
The girls want us in the room while the kits are being taken, which I get. I think they knew what was happening was wrong, but they were probably threatened into silence. Who knows what really happened in that house and whether their mother even knew.
The officers arrive and we fill them in. They need a moment to process, so they step away. Itâs clear theyâre affected.
Letâs face it, thereâs nothing more sickening than an adult harming a child, especially their own. I bet they werenât expecting this when they were told to get a statement. Car accidents, dog bites, fightsâthose are routine.
Girls being raped by their father for years is not. Knowing weâll be here for a while, Nate calls our parents. They rush to the hospital.
If the social workers thought Nate was angry, they havenât seen anything yet. Dad storms in and people clear a path. He walks up to Nate, leans in to hear the situation, then looks at Nate, Jessie, and us in the rooms.
He drags his hand down his face. He pulls out his phone, probably organizing search parties for the parents. Iâm at a loss, just sitting here holding my girlâs hand.
Trying to be strong for her while sheâs being examined like a lab rat. Within ten minutes, itâs over and she curls up, crying. I place my hand on her cheek, wiping away her tears as she looks up at me.
âWill you lay next to me please?â
I watch as she scoots over and I climb in next to her. The bed creaks under our weightâI hope it holds.
An officer walks in to take her statement. She looks at me and I nod, so she turns to face the officer and starts talking. The things I hear about what happened in that house make my skin crawl and my stomach churn.
I see the officer shift uncomfortably as he listens. Once itâs over, she signs the paperwork and he leaves quickly, heading straight for the bathroom. I watch her as she takes it all in, then turns to me, crying, and buries her face in my chest.
These girls are so broken. Itâll take months, maybe years, of therapy to help them heal. Weâve been here for hours and I must have dozed off with her in my arms.
Iâm woken by my mom tapping my arm. She smiles at me and strokes Angeliaâs hair. I see tears fall and I reach out to comfort her, giving her a look that says everything will be okay.
âItâs time to get home. Theyâre being discharged.â
I just nod as Dad enters the room.
âWeâre looking everywhere for them, and we wonât stop.â
I feel Angelia stir in my arms and look down to see her looking up at me.
âWho would have thought, Marcelo, that eight years ago Iâd be here in your arms?â
âI knew! I knew from the moment I saw you, you were mine. Now, how about we get out of here?â
She smiles and our door opens. Anthony, Angela, Nate, and Jessie are standing there. Itâs time to go home, get the girls settled, and call a therapist.
Weâre all going to need someone to talk to.
***
PENNY
Iâve just finished with a client and, once theyâve left, I sit at my desk to check my messages. Sure enough, the first one is from my next client, canceling again. I delete it and see another message, this one from Caden Maxwell, asking me to call back immediately.
I jot down the number, planning to call in a few minutes. Iâve been doing therapy sessions for a few years now, since graduating college. The cases are usually pretty standard.
I always feel like I could do more. Iâm single, since my last boyfriend didnât think my profession was worthwhile and left me. Iâd like to find someone I can connect with, someone who wants a real relationship.
I laugh at myself for daydreaming about a knight in shining armor. I think Iâm a catch. Iâm thin, with green eyes and long red hair.
Today, I wanted to be comfortable, so Iâm wearing black slacks, a green short-sleeve blouse, and black flats. Iâve put my hair in a messy side braid that reaches my waist. I pick up my phone and see a local news alert.
I open it and canât believe what Iâm reading. Theyâre looking for a couple wanted for questioning about sexual assaults against children. How could anyone do that?
My phone ringsâitâs Trent from the county. I canât stand him. Heâs always given me the creeps.
I answer and he starts explaining whatâs happening and who will be calling me. Thatâs when I look down at the note. I hang up quickly and call Mr. Maxwell back.
He explains that theyâre on their way home from the hospital with the girls and asks if I can meet them at the estate. I donât have any more appointments this afternoon, so I forward all my calls to my cell. I have a feeling this wonât be a typical case.
I gather my supplies and more, throw them in a bag, grab my phone and purse, and head to the address he gave me. I run through every possible scenario in my head, but nothing could have prepared me for what Iâm about to encounter.
Iâve always said Iâve heard it all, but I havenât. I drive for about an hour out of town and when I arrive at a large gate, a huge man approaches to ask my business. I tell him Iâm a therapist and show him my badge.
He nods and points to a small building as the gate doors start to open. I drive up to the house and see large guards standing around with weapons on their backs. I stare at them and they stare back.
I feel like Iâm on a safari ride and theyâre the attraction. âHere folks, on the right hand side, youâll see the guards in their natural habitat. As we approach, the armed guards glare, trying to decide if they feel like hunting today.â
A sudden knock on my window startles me, causing me to yelp and clutch my chest. I turn to see a burly man with fiery red hair and fair skin peering in at me. I canât help but let my mind wander to some rather inappropriate thoughts.
His emerald green eyes hold my gaze as a smirk plays on his lips. He opens my door and crouches down to my level, grinning at me. âWell, darling, are you going to get out or just sit here?â he asks.
âIâm Blair. If youâre the therapist everyoneâs been waiting for, theyâre all inside. If youâre here for me, Iâd be more than happy to make you mine and spoil you rotten. But you might want to check in with the boss first. Come on, Iâll show you in.â
His words barely register as my mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. I hastily gather my belongings and, for reasons unknown, take his offered hand. He leads me inside where everyone is gathered.
As soon as I enter, all eyes turn to me, causing me to clutch my bag tighter. I hadnât even realized I was still holding Blairâs hand until he releases it, placing his own at the small of my back. I glance at him and he winks.
Who is this guy?
He introduces me to his boss, Caden, and the rest of the crewâEva, Nate, Mandy, Jessie, Jocelyn, Jace, Cami, Autumn, Kassie, Marcelo, and Anthony. He then guides me over to two girls, Angela and Angelina, who I learn are my clients. I take a deep breath, trying to remember all the names, knowing Iâll inevitably forget some.
Almost everyone disperses, leaving me with the twins and the girls. I sit down and start jotting down notes when I notice Blair leaving. A pang of sadness hits me at the loss of his touch, and I make a mental note to find him later.
Then it dawns on meâI thought of him as ~my~ Blair. I shake my head, reminding myself that Iâm here to work. I continue writing as the girls share their stories, which are fairly standard until they start talking about their father.
The roomâs atmosphere shifts dramatically as the guys become visibly uncomfortable and the girls look to me for reassurance. After a slight nod from me, they continue their story and my stomach churns. The girls were set up for failure from the start.
They were groomed as children and no one intervened. They were molested by their father and no one intervened. They were repeatedly raped and no one intervened.
The system that was supposed to protect them failed them from the beginning. Seeing them become emotional, I decide to call it a day and promise to return tomorrow. Once theyâve all left, I find myself in the kitchen, staring at Caden.
âI donât know if Iâm experienced enough for this,â I confess. âI just graduated college and Iâve never dealt with a case like this before. Maybe a more seasoned therapist would be better.â
âYou came highly recommended,â Caden assures me. âI know this is a lot to take inâweâre all in the same boat. If it would make things easier, we could arrange for you to stay here, close to the girls. Plus, Blair seems to have taken a liking to you, and he lives here too.â
Iâm not sure what possessed me to agree, but the next thing I know, Blair is leading me to the room Iâll be staying in. As we stop in front of a door, I canât help but stare. Blair grins down at me, winking as he pushes the door open to reveal a room larger than my tiny studio apartment.
I wander around in awe, and before I can say anything, my belongings are being brought in. I watch as Blair approaches, planting a light kiss on my lips before telling me he has to go to work. I blink in surprise, trying to process everything.
A new client, a new home, and a boyfriendâall in one day? Is that what Blair is? I watch him walk away, admiring his broad back and perfect butt.
He must have caught me staring because he glances over his shoulder, chuckling and winking at me before closing the door. I guess itâs time to unpack. I donât have much, but my mind is too overwhelmed to process anything right now.
Iâm sitting on the couch when the door bursts open, startling me. Of course, itâs Blair.
âMiss me, love? No? Thatâs okay, you will!â
He rushes in, plants another kiss on my lips, and dashes back out. Heâs like an overexcited puppy. I lean back, chuckling to myself.
What a day. Wait, how did they know where I lived?