Page 7 of Only Temporary

He’s stunningly beautiful too. It doesn’t help things at all. Tall and lean, but there’s a hint of a lot of muscle under his clothes. His dark hair is styled neatly, despite what I’m sure was a hellish night. His jaw is sharp, and his cheekbones sharper. I can see a couple of tattoos peeking out of his shirt sleeves, but nothing overly done.

His looks don’t matter. He’s in need of help, and I’m a helper. I’m going to make damn sure I do my job. I won’t be left feeling helpless and angry after this one. I’m going to help him gain custody of his four younger siblings, and I’m going to help them all thrive. Even if it kills me.

My days are full of sadness and sorrow. Of straight-up, aching pain and agony. Watching people being ripped apart by poverty and addiction. I won’t fail this family.

I speak to the man in charge, and he goes to get the oldest boy, Cason. I watch Kellan as those soulful, angry eyes search the place where his brother spent last night, and he looks ill. I saw his file. I know he spent some time here.

“He’ll be right out,” I say, and Kellan nearly jolts at the sound of my voice. Like he forgot I was here.

“Fine,” he grunts.

Moments later, the man comes back with the fifteen-year-old who, even if I didn’t know he was Kellan’s brother, I absolutely would just by looking at him. He has blond hair on top of his head, but everything else screams Kellan.

His mouth is set in an angry line of fury, and his dark-blue eyes are shining with wrath as he approaches, readjusting the bag on his shoulder and glaring at Kellan, who seems frozen in his spot.

“Kellan. What the fuck are you doing here?”

I wince at the harsh language, but honestly, I’m starting to understand that a fifteen-year-old with a background like his—in the system with a drug addict for a mother and no father—is a different kind of fifteen.

These kids were forced to grow up far too fast, but still, they’re just kids. They shouldn’t have had to.

Kellan looks as if his brother slapped him. But then I watch as he school’s his features and straightens his shoulders. “I’m here to take care of you.”

Cason snorts. “Yeah, right. I’ve heard that before.”

“Cason—” Kellan reaches out to put his hand on his shoulder, but Cason jerks back.

“Don’t. Let’s just get the hell out of here.” He turns to me. “New caseworker, I’m assuming.”

I nod, even though it really wasn’t a question—this kid has been through it enough to know exactly who I am. “Phillip Miller. I’ll be handling your family’s case.”

Again with a dismissive snort. “Yeah. I give you a week.”

My eyes narrow, but I try to remain positive. It’s not his fault he’s been through this so much. That he has no trust for the system. Honestly, I’ve only been working here for six months, and I’m already starting to lose hope. How the hell these kids endure what they do, I’ll never know. Although, I guess they really don’t have a choice. It’s heartbreaking and infuriating, all at the same time. “I’ll be here for the entire time it takes to get Kellan as your legal guardian.”

I may be a little naive to the world, but I’m stubborn, and I never give up. I try like hell to fight for every family who’s come through my office. If I’m their caseworker, I give it my all, even when that still isn’t enough.

Some want my help. Some don’t. It doesn’t matter to me, either way. I’m going to do this.

Cason leans into me. He’s fairly tall for fifteen but doesn’t quite reach my height yet. Still, it’s pretty intimidating when those dark-blue eyes lock on mine. Keeping his voice low, he says directly to me, “He’s a fuckup. If you give us to him, it’ll end the same.”

Kellan remains stoic at my side, and I’m not sure why he doesn’t say something. Defend himself. Let Cason know he’s sober and that he has a job and a house. But he says nothing. “People change,” I state, my chin held high as I look into the kid’s eyes.

He laughs—a cold and bitter sound. “No.” He looks over at his brother with so much hatred it hurts me, and I don’t know how Kellan is still standing upright. “They don’t.”

With that, Cason takes off toward the exit, and I look over at Kellan. “Are you okay?”

I know the answer already. His brother’s anger is already taking a toll on him. That he loves his brother dearly, but I can see the guilt he has for leaving. I don’t blame him for getting out of that situation when he could. He was twenty when he left home. Addicted to something that had him spiraling, no doubt. He got help. It isn’t a quick and easy fix. I know that, but he seemed surprised I didn’t ream him for leaving.

How could I? I never walked in his shoes. I don’t know how bad it was there with his mom, but I can take a guess. He left for self-preservation reasons, and I believe he planned to go back.

“I’m fine.” He glares at me, giving me the answer I knew he would, then brushes past me to go out to the van.

Well, this didn’t go all that well, now, did it?

Only three more to go.

FOUR

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