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It’s escalated since. Like our construction company, it’s well-oiled. There are no cops involved and no outside help—just Willa and us. Along with a couple of trustworthy counselors at the call center who work with Willa. Suppose they’re on a call and feel a woman is in danger but is refusing to call the police or ask for help from family or friends. In that case, the counselors explain how the escort service works and give the woman Willa’s number. It’s up to them to use it or not.
Sometimes we get no calls for a month. Other times we get one each week. There’s no rhyme or reason.
“The woman thinks she’s the clean hand police, and Lix is a cat.” I cross my arms over my chest.
Lix perks up in the chair. “What now?”
“Well, he kind of is.” Brett cracks a smile. “He’s curious like a cat, not to mention sneaky.”
Lix slumps back into the chair with a scowl.
It’s the truth. Lix knows how to keep a secret. We all learned when we discovered what he was hiding about Cassie’s abuser a few months back.
We didn’t see each other for ten years while in the system. I’m sure we have secrets from that time. Shit and experiences we’d rather keep to ourselves. I know I have my share, as I’m sure my brothers do as well.
“You’re cute as a cat,” Cassie says, now in his defense. “Like Felix the cat.” She smiles at Lix.
He scrunches his nose at her but finishes with a little grin.
See, there she goes keeping us guys in check. I like her. She fits in well. I don’t see her going anywhere. Brett dotes on her, and he’s not a doting guy. It’s amazing to watch my brother fall in love. With our fucked-up lives, it’s something I never thought I’d witness.
“Well”—Brett stands—“she’s only here for a few weeks to fill in for Willa. Maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot.” He walks over and places his hand on my shoulder. “Besides, depending on how many Julia calls we get, you might not have to see her again,” he says, giving me a hard but not much reassuring pat.
“Yeah. Okay, Brett.” I sneer.
But that’s the problem. I want to see her again. And sure, it might be because I can’t figure her out, but I don’t think that’s entirely it.
No. It goes beyond her clandestine eyes and stumper grin. It’s rooted in what she does to me when I’m around her. Brief as our encounter might’ve been, she managed to obstruct my senses, rattle my brain, and hijack my body.
And I’m not accustomed to anyone or anything doing that to me.
In times like this, I wish I had Lix’s over-enthusiasm for a challenge. I’m just unsure what she’s challenging me for, which is unsettling.
Hell, she probably doesn’t even know she’s doing it. It could just be my whacked-out response to her.
And fuck. That’s even more unsettling.
Chapter 6
The first meeting went well. There were eight women. I’ve run group meetings before, just never with this theme. Aunt Willa gave me a few questions to start the session. Then she said the rest would come to me.
She was right.
The women opened up and talked about their home life. Their humiliation and guilt. The physical and mental abuse and their lack of control.
I need my control. I couldn’t imagine someone taking it so viciously away from me as these women have experienced. There were some positive moments during the sessions. The women who got out expressed their struggles. They also shared their accomplishments, revealing some light at the end of the tunnel.
There were some tears and laughter.
I mostly listened.
By the time it was done, I felt like an exhausted sponge. All the emotions were a lot to absorb while still remaining objective and supportive. It’s harder than one would think. I wanted to go full metal jacket on the abusers. Hunt each of their asses down and get justice for each of these women. It must be difficult for the Daxon brothers when they’re face-to-face with the abuser. Difficult not to make the abusers suffer as their victims have. I don’t know how they do it.
Needing a cleansing before the next session, I take a shower and dry the morning’s condensation from my body.
I head into the kitchen, ready for my third coffee of the day. Glancing at the microwave clock, I find I have forty minutes until the next meeting.
During the ten years I lived here, I knew Aunt Willa was involved. I never really appreciated or understood her dedication. I was young. I didn’t fully grasp what goes into it all, mentally or physically. It takes a toll on all parts of your being.
