“Don’t ‘Law’ me. I should knock some sense into you. You could have got hurt, pelting drug dealers with rocks. Are you nuts?” I yelled.

“You do it,” Roam said, assuming a teenage boy’s pissed-off-yet-pouty stance of jutting lip and slightly leaning body.

“I do not pelt drug dealers with rocks. That’s a fool thing to do. Honestly, Roam, what am I gonna do with you?”

“You’re Law?” Shard said, butting into my tirade and looking up at me.

I caught his look and, even shadowed, it made me shiver.

“Quiet,” Crowe told Shard but Shard kept staring at me like he was memorizing me. I knew this wasn’t good and that shiver turned into a quiver.

“Eyes to the ground,” Crowe ordered Shard and when Shard hesitated, Crowe’s hand snaked out, shoving the back of Shard’s head so he faced down.

I felt the disquiet of fear crawling along my skin but I pushed it away and turned back to Roam.

“We’re not done. Go find my stun gun, I dropped it. I’m taking you back to the Shelter tonight, tomorrow, we’ll talk.”

“Seriously, Law, I was only tryin’ –” Roam started but I interrupted him.

“Stun gun. Now. Talk. Tomorrow. Go,” I snapped.

He grumbled something about “fuckin’ bossy white bitches” and stomped away.

I stared daggers at his back.

“What’d I say about calling me a bitch?” I yelled at his back.

“Law,” Crowe cut in.

My head rounded to him and, I’m afraid to say, I’d had about all I could take.

“Not now. I’ve had a bad day. I have to get these kids to bed and then I’m gonna go home and have a bubble bath. Then I’m gonna sleep like the dead. I have to be ready for tomorrow because tomorrow, I’m going to kick some black-teenage-kid ass.”

Crowe didn’t say anything. Then again, what could you say?

I looked down at Shard then back at Crowe.

“You have this covered?” I asked, like I’d been helpful in some way taking down Shard.

“I’m thinkin’, yeah,” Crowe told me.

“Good. Great. Marvelous. Have a fabulous evening.”

Then I stormed up to the bike path where Roam was waiting for me. He held out my stun gun and I snatched it out of his hand.

“Let’s get to Hazel. Move. Sniff is probably scared shitless. I don’t even know what to say. You get out your phone and call your friend. Tell him you’re okay…”

And the whole way down the bike path, even while Roam was on the phone with Sniff, I reamed him.

And most of the way, even though I didn’t know it, Vance heard me.

Chapter Three

The Interrogation

I took the boys to King’s and got them to their beds.

King’s had six bedrooms, each with three sets of bunk beds, three rooms for boys, three rooms for girls. Not many of the kids spent the night there, usually they came during the day to hang, play pool, eat, and, if we were lucky, talk to the social workers or work with the tutors.

I talked Park, Roam and Sniff into staying most nights there. They’d had permanent beds for months. Roam on the top of the last bunk by the window, Sniff in the bunk under him.

Park had slept on the top bunk in the bed next to Roam. Even though it’d been months, no kid had slept there since Park mainly because Roam frowned on this.

As they settled, I stood beside their beds and looked at Roam. He was on his back, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling and ignoring me.

I knew he was angry. Not only had Sniff ratted him out and I cut into his action but I’d embarrassed him in front of macho man Vance Crowe.

“Be mad at me, Roam,” I said softly, “but don’t be mad at Sniff. He did the right thing.”

Roam didn’t reply.

I didn’t touch the boys, touching was not right. I might nudge them or shove their shoulder playfully but I only did these things after months of getting to know them. The only other time I’d touched Roam was to slam him against the building when we found Park.

After hesitating, I laid my hand on Roam’s chest.

“Something happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do. We lost Park, I don’t want to lose another one of you,” I whispered.

I felt his breathing go heavy like he was fighting emotion. He still didn’t say anything and I left him alone.

I bent to Sniff. He was also lying on his back, arms to his sides. I could see his eyes staring at the top bunk.

“You did the right thing, Sniff,” I told him.

Sniff turned his back to me.

Oh well. So be it. For now.

I left them to their thoughts and went home.

I let myself in, set the alarm so the door and window sensors were activated but the motion sensors were not. I took a long, hot bubble bath and let the tension seep out of my body. Then I got out, toweled off and slid open the door to the under bed storage.

I had two dressers under there. My clothes were mostly utilitarian, chosen for comfort with only a bit of attention to style.

My nightwear was anything but.

Outside of decorating my house, my only extravagance was sexy nightgowns. I had two drawers stuffed full of them.

I pulled out a nightie and put it on. It had smoky gray lace at the triangular bosoms and at the hem which came to my upper thighs. The thin straps and body of the nightie were the palest pink satin.

I climbed into bed and Boo settled in beside me.

I shut down my mind, and, just as I told Crowe, slept like the dead.

* * * * *

I woke up, groggy from sleeping heavily, and felt strange. The covers were tucked close to my back; an odd intense warmth coming from there. And, for some reason, even though he’d never done this, Boo was draped over my waist.

My eyes opened slowly and I saw Boo, lying beside me, watching me and waiting for me to get up and give him his morning portion of wet food, the favorite part of Boo’s day.

I closed my eyes again. My morning alarm buzzer hadn’t gone off so I figured I had time to sleep some more.

Then my eyes opened again and I stared at Boo.

If Boo was lying beside me, then what was draped over my waist?

My mind cleared.

Oh crap.

I moved quickly, dislodging what was on my waist and heading out.

At my sudden movement, Boo went flying on an angry, “Meow!”

I was snagged around the midriff and thrown back to the bed, my head hitting the pillows, and Vance Crowe rolled his body over mine.