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Friends of the family were forbidden fruit.
You didn't get to take a bite, no matter how tempting it might be.
And it sure was tempting when they showed up at your doorstep, soaking wet, shaking, begging for your help, your protection, when you suddenly found them hiding out from their problems in your place, in your bed while you attempted to take on their case, figure out how someone who led the quiet kind of life she did ended up on some bad guy’s radar, who wanted her badly enough to chase her through the streets, to make her need to uproot her entire life.
She was trusting me, depending on me.
There were plenty of things to keep my mind occupied.
Yet all I could think about was what it might be like to get a taste, a touch, a bite.
Maybe if I had been more focused on her case, I would have seen what was coming, could have prevented it before it was too late…
