Page 3 of His To Claim

“Jade, shut it,” I mutter underneath my breath.

He turns to one of the other officers who stayed in the living room while the others moved to search the mobile home. “Carson, put an APB out for Chandler Wolfe and Lilith Steele, on the run, possibly armed, and extremely dangerous.”

“What are you talking about on the run? What did they do?” I ask anxiously.

“Come, girls, let’s have a seat here to talk.”

I grab hold of Jade’s hand as we slowly walk over to the torn up, stained couch in the middle of our living room. The brown suede, which smells like vomit on a good day, takes up most of the small living space. Behind it are a few mismatched, dusty shelves full of meaningless knick-knacks and across is a small drawer chest with an old school television set. You know the one that looks like a computer screen that belongs in the 1980s.

“There should be a third party here with you to talk with the girls, Agent Servite. They’re minors,” Mrs. Presley blurts out from the doorway.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Preston was it,” he says, purposely mispronouncing her name and letting her know her opinion is unsolicited. “This is none of your concern. A child services agent is on her way as we speak, so please do yourself a favor and leave the scene before I have one of my officers remove you.”

Mrs. Presley hurriedly leaves looking over her shoulder before the door is shut on her.

Meanwhile, Jade and I sit uncomfortably on the couch while Agent Servite grabs a folding chair from the kitchen and places it in front of us, straddling the back of the chair like he’s about to interrogate two criminals and is trying to intimidate us.

Now I can see why he stood out from the rest of the officers.

His demeanor and well-tailored suit scream money while his blond perfectly combed hair is flawlessly done. Clear blue eyes peek out behind dark shades, his stare burning as his eyes rake over my body focusing too long on the thin, spaghetti strap pajama top and shorts I’m wearing.

Suddenly I’m self-conscious, pulling a nearby cushion and placing it on my lap.

“Ladies, I can assume this is quite frightening, but I need you to tell me where your parents are?” he says, gazing at me.

“We don’t know,” I spat out, squeezing Jade’s hand. At my motion, his eyes shift down to our joined hands and then back upat me, but I keep my eyes on him the entire time. He will not intimidate me.

He seems like the type. The rich as fuck prick who uses his power and authority to intimidate those around him. It's pathetic and frankly a little sad he feels the need to use it on two teenage girls.

Agent Servite glares at me, the edges of his lips curving up slightly in amusement and it pisses me off. “I’m going to ask you once more, child,” he spits the last word out like an insult. We may be minors but we’ve seen a hell of a lot living in this world that has matured us beyond our years.

“It’s Scarlett,” I retort, interrupting him.

Amusement spreads over his face. “Yes, Scarlett Serena Steele, daughter of Lilith Steele and an unknown male, and Jade Emma Wolfe, daughter of Chandler Zander Wolfe and the late Amelia Connor. I know who you are, girls. They’ve watched you all closely since Chaz’s latest release from prison. It was only a matter of time before he’d violate his probation. It’s all in here,” he says holding up a manila folder I hadn't noticed he was holding.

“Then you know they are no parents to us. Only the fucked-up adults we’re burdened with till we turn eighteen and get the fuck out of this place,” Jade mutters angrily.

“That, my dear, may come sooner than you think.” Agent Servite doesn’t react to Jade's current state of distress, he simply continues with his calm line of questioning. “Chandler Wolfe and Lilith Steele are wanted for suspected armed robbery of three Hillcrest Hills mansions and the murder of Hillcrest Hills Mayor Silas Smoak. A child services agent is on her way to remove you from this home and take you into protective custody.”

Hillcrest Hills?If I’m not mistaken, that’s the snobby rich town a couple hours away.What the hell were they doing there?

“Fuck no!” Jade blurts out in horror. “My brother,” she stammers nervously. “He can take us in.”

“I’m sorry, Jade, but your brother is still a minor himself and regardless, we haven’t been able to locate his whereabouts.”

“He wouldn’t help them if that’s what you’re insinuating. If anybody hates Chaz and Lilith more than we do, it’s Roman.”

Suddenly, a tall, blond and elegantly dressed woman walks through our front door heading straight to us. A deep scowl forms upon her face as she notices Agent Servite sitting across us.

“Agent Servite,” she says in a soft foreign accent, handing him a business card. “I'm Elena Masters with the Department of Social Services.”

“Ms. Masters, this is Scarlett Steele and Jade Wolfe. Their parents are fugitives of the law and they have no immediate next of kin. They are now under the protective custody of the Department of Social Services and the State of California. I just have a few questions if you would have a seat.” He motions for her to sit next to us on the couch, but she blatantly ignores him and turns to us.

“Scarlett, Jade, my name is Elena and as you heard I’m with social services. Just a few questions, Agent Servite, as I must proceed with the process of getting these girls somewhere safe.”

Her eyes, warm and empathetic as she looks to us, turn fierce and cold when they connect with Agent Servite. Call me a cynic but I have a feeling this isn’t the first time these two have met although that’s what they want us to believe.

“Please have a seat. The sooner we begin, the sooner these girls can go to their new home.” Agent Servite turns his attention back to us and I really wish he wouldn’t. “As I previously mentioned, your parents are fugitives, is there anything you can tell us about where we can locate them?” he asks, leaning back and bringing a hand to his chin.

---