A Risky Prospect, Chapter 3

I ask anyway.

Against my better judgement.

Because I know this story. The details might be different, but the structure is all the same. College was my ticket out, too. Still, I have to hear her say it. I can’t jump to conclusions. Not everyone’s story is like mine.

catch up A Risky Prospect, Chapter 1 A Risky Prospect, Chapter 2 Chapter 3Olivia

Cliff watches me for a long moment. I hold his gaze, realizing that he tied his hair back from his face. The sight of that ponytail sends a rocket of heat to my center—completely inappropriate timing, I know.

What I love most about myself is that I can feel like utter, terrible, absolute shit death, and still be thinking about the next time I’m gonna have sex. I’m a gremlin like that. I’m the same with food. I can always eat. I’ve got a healthy appetite and I love that about me.

What I don’t love is the way Cliff is looking at me: all soft brown eyes, so dark they’re almost black, brows furrowed just enough to put a slight crease in the middle.

Despite the fact that shit just hit the fan for Esther—his brother’s old lady—he’s looking at me with a tenderness that pools in those eyes, so transparent I can see straight through it.

I frown, too.

That’s not supposed to happen.

“I’m taking her inside,” Donny says.

I use Esther as an excuse to break away from Cliff, although I still feel his eyes on me. Taking one of her arms, I hoist her to her feet, Donny supporting her other side.

Once we get her sitting in Donny’s room upstairs, I run back down to get her a shot of vodka. The bottle comes with me, just in case. Mark can yell at me later. Handing her the shot, I sit next to her, tucking my legs underneath me.

She holds the shot between two fingers, staring through it. Both men stare at me. I occupy myself by rubbing her back.

Donny kneels in front of her, each big hand clasping one of her knees. “What happened, baby?” he asks, voice calm on the surface but steely underneath. There’s a reason he’s the club Enforcer.

She downs the shot, shuddering as the sharp vodka slides down her throat. I hold the bottle out to her, but she shakes her head. “Maybe in a minute.” She sucks in a deep breath. “That call I got,” she says, looking at me, “was my grandma.”

I nod, trying to be patient. This isn’t some drama queen. It’s Esther.

“The kids,” she breathes, closing her eyes and holding out the shot glass.

I bite my lip as I pour her another one. For the past four years, her grandparents have been fostering her younger siblings. There’s some sort of unspoken agreement that when she graduates, she’s supposed to become their guardian. I don’t know much more than that.

She throws the vodka back, closing her fingers around the empty glass. Her hand curls so tightly around it, I’m a little concerned it’s going to bust. “They’re going to give them back,” she whispers. “My grandma didn’t want to wait ’til after the ceremony to tell me.”

Donny gives her a stricken look. “I’m sorry, Essie.”

“That’s good, right?” I ask, glancing from her to Donny.

She laughs, a bitter sound from those sweet lips. “It was all I could do to get DCF to take them out of there.” Her hand tightens.

Gently, I pry her fingers from the glass and take it away. “Doesn’t that mean that your parents got their shit together?”

“Damn, Olivia. You of all people should know people never change.”

I think of Bree, of all the men she paraded in and out of our apartments. Suppressing a shudder, I shove down the memories. Esther knows more about my past than I know about hers. That’s because, all throughout college, she plied me with Netflix and wine, and I gave up little pieces here and there. All this time, she’s sat next to me on that couch, being my friend, when I’ve done shit for her.

“The system is bullshit,” she continues.

“Yeah,” I agree. Before Cliff’s aunt and uncle adopted me, I bounced from family to family. No happy memories. I don’t want to press Esther, but we’re both social workers now. If anyone can figure this out, it’s us. “Look, I know I’ve been a shitty friend, but let me help. What exactly did DCF tell your grandma?”

“You’ve been a wonderful friend.” She pats my knee. “Especially if you give me that bottle.”

I hand it over.

“Essie, there’s still some time, if you want to walk,” Donny says.

Between chugs of vodka, she gives Donny a dirty look.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “A’ight.” Standing, he nods to Cliff. “Let’s step out, have a smoke.”

“It’s okay,” Esther says. “He can stay.” She closes her eyes again and sighs. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you guys. I just don’t want to talk about it.” She swallows.

“If you’re gonna fight for these kids, you better get used to it,” I say.

Cliff nudges me with his elbow. “Jesus, Olivia.”

“What? It’s true.”

“She’s right.” She draws her knees to her chest, her dress pooling around her waist. She keeps the bottle in her lap. “When DCF finally took the girls out of there, they hadn’t eaten outside of school in weeks. Cierra tried to make ramen for herself and Abril. She didn’t know what to do for the baby. She ended up burning herself. Ximena’s diaper hadn’t been changed in a few days.” She shakes her head.

“Where was your mom?” I ask.

She snorts. “Bitch was right there the whole time. Just didn’t feel like it.”

“And your dad?”

Her face pales by several shades. “My father,” she says, her voice cracking. Her eyes dart toward Donny, then close. He places a hand on top of her head, his mouth a tight line.

“College was my ticket out,” she says, a pleading edge to her voice.

My hands go numb, dread pitting in my stomach. I don’t want to hear this. “Your ticket out of what?” I ask anyway.

Against my better judgement.

Because I know this story. The details might be different, but the structure is all the same. College was my ticket out, too. Still, I have to hear her say it. I can’t jump to conclusions. Not everyone’s story is like mine.

“I can’t say it.” She takes another drink from the bottle.

I want to ask her to pass it over, but I don’t. “You have to,” I hear myself say. “You keep it a secret, you give him power. Shine your light on the truth—on what he did to you.”

I’m a hypocrite.

“My sisters, and me. All the time. He’d leave for a little while, and things would be okay. My mom would slack off, but I’d pick up the pieces. She always let him come back, though. She’s just as much of a monster as he is.” Her lips tremble.

I think of Bree’s boyfriends again. Statistically speaking, they should’ve been the biggest threat to me. They never touched me. Most of them barely even acknowledged my existence. They were too busy getting high with my mom.

I lick my dry lips. “Your father sexually abused you and your sisters?” With each word I speak, my blood boils a little higher.

Esther nods. “Not the bab—Ximena. I mean, she’s five now. She isn’t his—his words, not mine. That’s why he let her be.” Her voice rises with each word, the tears flowing faster.

My stomach curdles. I want to dart into the bathroom, slam the door shut behind me.

“Jesus Christ,” Cliff says, reminding me that Esther and I aren’t alone.

I have to get my shit together. If not for Esther, then for Cliff. It’s bad enough that he looks at me so tenderly.

I don’t need him to look at me the way he’s looking at Esther. Like he feels sorry for her. He can never, ever look at me that way.

Thank you for reading Chapter 3 of A Risky Prospect, Book 2 in the River Reapers MC series.

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A Risky Prospect, Chapter 4

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