I chuckle but stop when she glares at me. “Asbestos is harmless unless it becomes airborne. If there’s a problem here and it gets disturbed, that’s when it will become an issue.”
“I thought asbestos was regulated.”
“Not when this was built, it wasn’t. I was hopeful going in this morning, but I knew it was a risk. We won’t be able to start work until we get the results back from the lab.”
She groans. “Have you told Regina this?”
“Nope. You’re my point of contact, not her.”
“So you expect me to deliver the bad news?” She covers her face with her hands. “You’re just itchin’ to get me fired, aren’t you?”
“I don’t mind calling her if you’re that worried about it.” It’s not really something I want to do. Regina is aggressive, to say the least. She’s been chomping at the bit to get my cock inside her since the second we met.
Goldi peeks at me from between her fingers. “You don’t?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Not if it makes your day easier.”
She leans forward, her elbows coming down on the desk. “Okay, yeah. Okay. Well... wait a minute. If you call, she’ll probably think I put you up to it. That I’m incapable of deliverin’ a message. Maybe I should just call her?” She nods. “Yeah, I’ll just call her and hope for the best.”
I stifle my smile. She continues to ramble as she reaches to grab the phone. My hand shoots out to cover hers before I can stop it. She gasps
and blinks up at me. Electricity pulses through my fingers and up my arm, shocking my heart into a faster rhythm.
Her tongue peeks out, teeth following as she bites down. My nostrils flare, my eyes tracking the movement, jealous as fuck that her tongue gets to taste those perfect lips.
“Don’t,” I manage to rasp out. “Let me do this. I’ll tell her I wanted to be the one to deliver the news.”
“Okay,” she whispers. My fingers tighten around hers and she breaks our gaze to stare at where we’re connected.
Her hand jerks out from under mine. “Is that all?”
I’m still rooted in place, my mind working to catch up. “What?”
“Is that all you have to tell me? If so, you can show yourself out.” She angles her head toward the door, avoiding my eyes.
I step back, rubbing my chin and exhaling as I try to regain my equilibrium. “Yeah, that’s it. We’ll be here for a while longer finishing the samples and then we’ll be out of your hair.”
She nods, effectively dismissing me.
Journal Entry # 316
I had a dream last night that Lily came home. I woke up with tears on my face and a hollowness in my chest when I realized that’s all it was… a fucking dream. It’s been almost a decade since I’ve seen her. Hell, I don’t even know if she’s still alive. But I believe she is. I don’t have faith in much, but I have to trust in that belief.
Here’s one for ya, Doc. You know what I’ve been feeling recently when it comes to Lily? Anger. Fucking anger. And I don’t even know if it’s justified but it’s there either way.
My whole life was spent protecting her. I found comfort in knowing she appreciated all I did for her. But maybe she never really knew. Or maybe selfishness is a family trait and she never really cared.
The first foster home wasn’t sunshine and roses. It’s where I learned a lot of people are in it for the money, not for their love of children. I was still naive, believing Mom would come back and “save” us from the state she dumped us in. Lily was just scared. Too young to understand what was really going on. She always had this one raggedy stuffed bunny rabbit she held on to. Never let it out of her sight since she was old enough to grab things. It had threads all over it from where I clumsily stitched it up every time it ripped, and it was in desperate need of a wash. But it comforted her, and for that I was grateful.
Our caseworker took us to our first home, said there would be other kids to play with. It was a normal-looking house in a normal-looking suburb outside of Nashville, a married couple with two other foster kids and a thirteen-year-old son of their own. They were nice enough, if not a little distant. Left us to our own devices most of the time.
But their son was a fucking prick. He loved to prey on the vulnerable, and he saw it in Lily from the jump. Linda said we needed to be on our best behavior, and I thought she meant if we were, maybe mom would come back sooner, so I really tried to ignore this kid. But one afternoon I heard Lily cry and went outside to see he had ripped her bunny out of her hands and shredded it in front of her. My fist was in his face before he knew what hit him. Punk ass bitch.
I guess his dad didn’t think much of an eight-year-old who could beat his teenage son’s ass and decided to teach me a lesson. Busted me up so good I still have the scar through my eyebrow.
We were with that family for a little over a year, and he taught me a lot of “lessons” during that time. But the only thing I learned was bullies hit harder when you cry. They get off on the pain. So I taught myself how to lock it up tight and took the beatings with a smile on my face, knowing that as long as his attention was on me, it wasn’t on Lily.
On the plus side, he never bothered her again.