Page 19 of The Cleaner

"We'll come to that later. Right now, I'm more concerned about you and what happened last night. Want to explain in more detail?" she asks with a raised brow. She has that authoritative tone that she rarely ever uses with me.

"Let me guess, Tammy called?"

She nods as she takes a seat opposite me. "What the hell happened, Lisa?"

I sigh. I knew this would happen. I quickly explain what went down with Clodagh and the party.

"Jesus," Orna hisses. "Do you have any idea what the hell could have happened to you? To the both of you?"

"I know, but what was I supposed to do? Leave her there?" I ask, getting annoyed. I know what could have happened, but I did the only thing I could and that was to protect my friend before those bastards did anything else to her.

"No," she says, her shoulders sagging in defeat. "You shouldn't have left her, and I'm glad you didn't, but I worry about you, about the two of you. Who was the guy who saved you both?"

"Maverick," I tell her. "I don't know him. He was at the party and gave us both a ride home."

Her eyes narrow. "Maverick O'Hara?" she asks, sounding horrified.

I nod. "Yeah. Do you know him?"

"Lisa," she whispers, her eyes wide. "He's a criminal. He's part of the Houlihan Gang. His uncle is Jerry Houlihan, and his other uncle is Butch O'Hara of the Devil Falcons Motorcycle Club. What the hell were you doing with him?"

I grin. It's not often that something can freak her out. "He was the guy who saved Clodagh and I," I say dramatically. Ididn't need saving, but as I said to Maverick last night, it sure did feel good. "He gave us a ride home. Why are you freaking out?"

"Just stay away from him, honey, okay?"

I raise a brow. "You're actually telling me to stay away?" She's never, not once, told me who I'm allowed to be around and who I'm not.

She presses her lips together. "I trust you," she says quietly. "I trust your judgment. If you think he's okay, then I'll be fine."

"So you don't know him; just what you've heard?" I ask, wanting to understand where she's coming from.

I grin as she holds up her hands and laughs. "You're right," she says, even though I didn't say anything. "I judged him without knowing him and that was shitty of me to do."

I wave her off and reach for a slice of toast. "So, back to you. Why were you up late?"

Orna wrings her hands together. It's something she does when she's nervous or when she wants to talk about something. "I got a call last night," she begins. "There's a little boy who needs to be housed. He's been abused and needs safety."

"Okay..." I whisper, my heart hurting for that little boy. God, I hate that he's been abused. What the hell is wrong with people?

"He can't be around men. He's too afraid of them. He can only be around women. They want me to house him, and I told them that I would have to speak with you. This is your home, Lisa. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable at all."

"I'll be fine," I assure her. "You've helped me so much, Orna, so, so much. Without you, I don't know where I'd be. I know that your dream was to open your home and heart to as many kids as you could, and I love that you gave me time to get used to the new normal, but that little boy needs you, just like I did. Don't turn him away, call them. Tell them that you'll take him."

Tears swarm in her eyes. "Are you sure?" she asks, pressing her hands to her heart. "I don't want anything to hurt you."

"I'm sure. Call them, find out what we need to arrange before he arrives. He'll need new clothes and we'll have to get the room ready."

I remember how Orna set my room up for when I arrived. It wasn't pink as I had thought it would have been, but a pale yellow that made me smile. It wasn't a childish room, nor was it one that made me dread coming into it. It felt homely and welcoming, not to mention the books that were stacked on the shelves. Orna had taken the time to ask her friends, who were also foster parents, if they had any books she could have as she was getting a foster child. At that stage, she didn't know how long I'd be in her care. She just wanted me to feel comfortable.

She reaches across the table and pulls my hand into her own. "Thank you," she whispers.

I close my eyes and nod. Things are going to change, but I know I'm safe here no matter what happens. It’s time for Orna to offer that safety, that sanctuary, to someone else too.

I'm perchedon the edge of the plush sofa, my knee bouncing nervously. My eyes are glued to the little boy crouched behind the chair in front of me, his face contorted with fear and pain. My heart aches at the sight. He is so tiny, yet he looks as though he has been through hell and back. Black and purple bruises mar his delicate features, causing my protective instincts to kick into overdrive. How could anyone harm someone so young and innocent? I can only imagine the extent of his injuries beyond what I can see on his face. It takes all my willpower not to gather him into my arms and shield him from any further harm.

I reach out a trembling hand toward the boy, my heart breaking at the thought of the pain he must have endured.His eyes flicker toward me, wide with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. I can see the wariness in his gaze. I want to wrap him in a hug and hold him tightly, promising him that everything will be okay.

"Hey there," I say softly, trying to keep my voice gentle and reassuring as I crouch down onto the floor beside him. "My name is Lisa. I'm a foster child too."

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