16. Lucas

"Mr. Bentley, your standing as an NFL player won't be able to help you out of this situation." The woman who showed up, unannounced, to my house an hour and a half earlier glowers at me. "In fact, it might have put you right in it."

I can feel the color drain from my face. "Miss Murphy?—"

"Ms." She glares harder.

"Ms. Murphy." I clear my throat. "I understand how the altercation outside of that bar the other night could make you think that my sense of responsibility is questionable, but?—"

She lets out a sharp laugh. "Questionable? Do you realize if those men had filed charges, I wouldn't have been quite so charming when I showed up here to take your brother and sister away from their unfit caregiver."

My jaw drops. "They didn't file charges because they instigated the fight. They had no grounds."

This isn't exactly true, but I don't need to get into detail about the actual reason why charges weren't filed. She already looks like she wants to shred me with meat forks.

"Well, it sure looked like they did." She leans forward and folds her hands in front of her. "Let me be frank. I respect what you've done for those kids. Putting them up in these fancy digs, getting them a full-time nanny, keeping them in private school. But when a caregiver displays aggressive and violent behavior that can land him behind bars, we at CPS become concerned."

"And you think you can find a better place for them to live? A place where someone will love them and take care of them the way I do? Their blood? Do you even realize what I've given up for them, to make sure they're settled and living as normal a life as possible?"

"It's admirable. From what I hear and read, you have a promising career in the NFL. But money alone doesn't make you a fit caregiver. And your antics the other night raise a lot of red flags."

My eyes fly open wide. "It isn't what you think. Those videos were edited to show us starting that fight, but that isn't what happened. We were defending ourselves."

"Violence is violence. And if you took your responsibilities seriously, you would have walked away and not engaged with them."

I scrape a hand down the front of my face. "Those kids have lost so much in the past few years. Are you seriously going to consider taking me away, too?"

Ms. Murphy stares at me for a long second. "Yes. You're on our radar now, Mr. Bentley. Any missteps will bring us right back here." She pushes her chair back and stands up in her no-nonsense navy-blue suit. "We will be dropping by over the next couple of months to keep an eye on things. If anything seems off, you won't get another warning."

I stand up, my leg muscles tensing. "All of this came about because of what happened the other night? You can just come over here and threaten to take away my brother and sister, even if I have no history of violent behavior or being an unfit caregiver?"

Her lips stretch into a tight line. "As I said, the behavior and subsequent fallout tipped us off and called your ability to take care of those kids into question. We investigate every lead we're given. Child safety is of utmost importance to us."

"Lead? Who would have even called this in? It's not like I have a record or was on probation."

Her stern expression tells me I should have just kept my mouth shut.

"Anonymous tips are just that." Her eyebrows knit together. "And now that you're on our radar, you will remain there until we've decided the children are not at risk."

I fist the sides of my hair. "One incident doesn't mean that the kids are in jeopardy."

"You're in the public eye now. And a football player, which past experiences have shown us can be linked with an unstable home and a lot of aggression."

I give my head a quick shake in disbelief, my jaw hanging. "Are you serious right now? How can you generalize like that? You don't know me at all—my experiences, my history, my personality. How can you just lump me in with other players who've displayed bad behavior?" My blood bubbles. "And for the record, I'm sure my lawyer would be very interested to hear that you're slandering me with no just cause."

Ms. Murphy's nostrils flare. "I don't appreciate your tone."

"I don't appreciate your insinuations about me."

She fixes me with an icy glare. "As the case worker assigned to your family, I am appalled at your behavior and make no mistake, I will be watching you, Mr. Bentley. You'd better prove that you can clean up your act, or the next time we meet, I won't be so friendly."

I choke back a snort. "What am I supposed to do to convince you that my brother and sister are safe here with me as opposed to at some foster house with seven million other kids?"

With a look that tells me in no uncertain terms that she wants to stab me, she slowly walks toward me. "Our goal is to make sure those kids are protected. And if you can't do the job, we will find someone who can." Her voice shakes with anger. "Do you understand?"

I nod, resisting the urge to say another word, since I really don't feel like getting stabbed. It's been crappy enough. And I've already been to the hospital once today.

A shiver slips down my spine, my skin tingling in the spot he touched, right before I left him in the emergency room.

But goddammit, he's the reason why she's here right now.

I ball my fingers into tight fists as I follow her to the door. The vein in my neck throbs, blood rushing hard and fast between my ears. A shadow catches my eye and I turn my head just in time to see Ella's shiny, tear-filled eyes on me. A single tear slips down her cheek. Glaring at the back of this crusty bitch's head, I take a deep breath before I say something that might get the kids taken away right now.

She twists the handle and swivels around once more. "Don't forget. We'll be watching."

Then she pushes open the door and lets out a startled gasp.

Jase stands in the hallway, a thick white cast on his arm.

And fuck me if I'm wrong, but he actually looks worried.

He looks between me and Ms. Murphy, his eyebrows knitting together. "I should have called first, but I, ah?—"

Ms. Murphy huffs and pushes past him. "Bringing the bad influence right to your doorstep, huh?" She storms to the elevator and stabs the Down button.

Jase stares after her, then turns to me. "I'm the bad influence? What the hell does that mean?"

"What are you doing here?" I pull at the collar of my shirt, barely able to squeeze out a breath right now.

Jase takes a tentative step forward. "I came because I was worried. You didn't say what happened before you took off. I wanted to make sure you guys were okay ‘cause you looked really upset."

I rub the grapefruit-sized stress ball lodged at the base of my skull. "I appreciate it. But we're good."

"Who was that woman? What was she talking about?"

I square my shoulders and stare at Jase. I want so badly to point the finger at someone, anyone, for what just happened. But I can only point it at myself. I got us in this position. I had a choice, made my bed, said fuck the consequences.

And Jase, the self-centered, arrogant-as-fuck, sexy-as-hell right tackle who started the whole shit show is here at my home because he was worried.

Worried. Jase Maxwell was worried… about me and my family.

I couldn't be more shocked right now if he pulled me closer with his one working arm and kissed me.

Fucking wishful thinking.

"Lucas, is she gone?" Krista tiptoes into the foyer with the kids.

I turn to face them, my heart feeling as if it's literally being shredded in my chest. Ella runs into my arms, sobbing like she feels exactly the same way.

"Please don't let them take us," she cries into my shirt.

I smooth the back of her hair and hug her tight. "I swear nobody will ever take you away from me." I look at Nick's somber face. "Do you understand that? Nobody."

"It's all his fault," Ella sniffles and points an accusatory finger at Jase. "My brother would never get into a fight like that. So it must have been your fault. Were you so mad because you sucked at that game?"

I groan. "Ella, come on. You're scared, and I get that. But the only person to blame here is me. I made a bad judgment call."

"No, she's right." Jase sweeps his good hand through his hair. "It was my fault and I'm sorry. I fu… uh, messed up today when I didn't apologize." He looks down at Ella. "So I'm telling you right now, live, that I am so sorry for what happened and whatever it did to make you cry."

Holy shit. The guy can make my dick hard even under these circumstances when my chest is being torn in two.

"You really are part human," I murmur, a hint of a smile lifting my lips.

"Yeah, unlike her," he scoffs, nodding his head at the elevator Ms. Murphy just took to the lobby of the building.

"You have no idea," Krista says with a shake of her head. "She was seriously scary."

"You swear she won't come back for us?" Ella wipes her red eyes.

I nod. "Everything is going to be fine. I mean, tomorrow we're going to be starting community service for a local charity organization. How much more squeaky clean can I get my reputation?" I joke.

But the knot in my gut festers like an untreated infection, my temples throbbing with the realization that I lost the control I've tried so damn hard to hold on to over the past few years.

One thing I've learned the hard way is that perception always becomes reality, just like it did with those bullshit social media videos. People manipulate the truth all the time and get away with it. Now my brother and sister are the ones at risk, all because someone made an anonymous tip.

Someone, besides Ms. Murphy, who's now watching me, too.