Stronger With Us (The Strength Series Book 3) (3 page)

Here’s the thing about treating a woman who says she’s been raped. We have to remain professional no matter what. Sometimes it comes off as cold or unfeeling, but it’s really the only way to maintain objectivity. It’s a social worker’s job to be empathetic and hold the woman’s hand, and it’s my job to take samples and collect any physical evidence that the police can use. I try to shut off all emotions in these situations because I will fall apart if I don’t. There are always two nurses in the room, which helps with recording information. In this case, Skylar is doing the interview and I am preparing for the physical exam.

“Can you tell me what happened?” I hear Skylar ask.

“All I know is that he just took what he wanted and left,” the patient answers in a confused voice. That strikes me as odd, but I keep doing my job.

“What does that mean? Are you hurt anywhere? What did he do, exactly?” Skylar asks with more compassion than I could.

“I’m not really hurt, just angry. We were on my bed, making out, you know? I didn’t want things to go further, but he sort of talked me into it. The thing is, I told him to stop. I said I didn’t want it, but he said that I had gotten him all worked up and it wasn’t cool to just leave him hanging. I didn’t know what to do but I told him again that I didn’t want to, and he just went ahead and did it anyway. My resident assistant at my dorm told me to come here because I’d been sexually assaulted. Is she right? I don’t know what this is. I told him no but he didn’t hurt me. Is that rape?”

At this point, my heart goes out to this young woman. She doesn’t really know that she’s a victim. I just don’t understand how men think that it’s their right to fuck a woman just because he’s got a hard-on. It’s such a crock of shit but something that we see all too often here. I finish collecting samples while Skylar asks the required questions, and once I’m done I report to Dr. Sanders so she can do her exam. I make the necessary notes in the chart and excuse myself to the restroom. I need a break and that’s the only place to get any peace until I can get home.

3

The
worst part about being fired from a job is not the loss of the job; it’s the boredom. It’s only been two days since I was dismissed from the DEA, and I’m bored out of my fucking skull. I’ve cleaned my place to the point that my mother would be impressed, if she were alive to see it. The job search has turned up absolutely nothing, but that’s not a surprise. The call I got from my brother yesterday didn’t really help me feel any better either.

“Hey, man, I just heard. What the hell happened?”

“How the fuck did you hear about it?”

“Kevin called. What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll figure something out. I always land on my feet.”

“Have you told Dad?”

“No, and I’d appreciate it if you don’t say anything to him either. I don’t need his bullshit right now.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I know you two have your issues. I’m not going to add fuel to that fire.”

“I appreciate it. I’ll call you in a few days, okay, Colin? I just need to get my shit together.”

“No problem. Later.”

I’m surprised that Colin even called. We don’t have the closest relationship. But the last thing I want is help from my little brother. I’m the one who’s supposed to take care of him, not the other way around. Unfortunately, I may have to ask him. The biggest problem is I don’t have any education to speak of. I went straight from high school to the Marines and then from there I got hired at the DEA. I wasn’t ever very good at school so it really wasn’t anything I missed. Now, though, the job market expects a college degree. Maybe it’s just this area, since it’s a bigger metropolitan area. On a whim, I pull up jobs in Colin’s neck of the woods, not because he’s there, but it’s more rural so maybe they won’t require so many credentials.

The listings aren’t great, but I do find a couple of things I’m qualified for. I really don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, so as long as it pays the bills and is mostly legal, I’ll do it. I pull up my bank statement and figure that I’ve got enough in savings for a deposit and first month’s rent on a new place, and maybe to get all the utilities turned on. My last paycheck will hit my account next week but then that’s it. I’ve got to find something fast, so I apply for a job with Belator Security Systems and some collection agency.

With that task complete, I turn my attention to my apartment. I don’t really have much in the way of personal items. The Marines taught me to pack light and live with very little. I guess that lesson has stuck with me. It won’t take much to move my stuff to a new place, but it will suck. I won’t be able to afford this place much longer anyway.

My brother’s ringtone brings me out of my head. I’m really not in the mood to let him blow sunshine up my ass so I let it go to voicemail. Of course the asshole just calls right back. After the third time, I pick up.

“What the fuck do you want, Colin?” I yell into the phone. He doesn’t deserve my hostility, but I’ve got nobody else.

“All right, assface, you can check the attitude. I know you’re going through some shit, but you don’t have to take it out on me. Besides, I’m calling to help you out.”

“I don’t need your help. I’m a grown man and I can take care of myself.” Even I know that’s childish, but I can’t bring myself to care.

“So, you don’t want me to tell you about the call I just got from Matt Davidson, the head of Belator Security Systems, about your job application?” This gets my attention fast.

“I applied for that job like ten minutes ago. What the fuck, bro?” His laughter is only pissing me off more.

“Matt and I play poker with a few other guys every week. He said that he got an application from someone with the same name as my brother and wanted to know if it was you. I told him that I doubted it since you wouldn’t dream of moving away from Tampa, but when he gave me a little more info I realized that it was you. Are you seriously thinking about relocating?”

I take a deep breath before I answer. Part of me wants to yell at him for questioning me about what I’m doing, but we’re not kids anymore. I’ve spent so many years taking care of Colin and shielding him from our father that it’s hard for me not to get defensive.

“I’m just trying to find a job. You know how hard it is out there without a degree. If I have to move, I will. Did you learn anything else about this job?”

“I put in a good word for you. I think you’d like working for Matt. He’s a good guy, and as long as you do what needs to be done, he doesn’t really give a shit about your personal life. My guess is he’s doing a background check and then he’ll call you.”

“I hope so. I’m not cut out to just sit around all the time. I’m going nuts here, man.”

“Knowing you, I’m surprised you haven’t been spending your time by filling a pussy or two. What else is going on, Jude? You don’t seem like yourself.”

“Because I’m not fucking someone? Is that what you think of me?” I yell into the phone.

“Fucking Christ, Jude. That’s not at all what I’m saying. Why are you so defensive? Has Dad called or something?”

What a disaster that would be. Major David Schaefer and I have an oil and water relationship. He’s military through and through, even though he’s been retired for years. He expected me to follow in his footsteps and he didn’t care what I wanted. Major Schaefer is a highly decorated Marine, and he expected nothing less of his oldest son. Of course, when I didn’t perform as he wanted, in anything, he made sure to let me know it. When I was a kid, he used his words, but when I got older he started using his fists. After Mom died, he stopped caring about me at all. The only time I hear from him now is for him to try and tell me how to live my life, how bad my choices are, or how wonderful Colin is.

“Thank God, no. I haven’t heard from him in months. However, I imagine I will when he gets wind of what happened at the DEA. I can only imagine how proud he is now,” I reply sarcastically.

“Okay. I’m not going to touch that one. Look, I’ve got to get to a meeting. Let me know if you hear from Matt or if there’s anything I can do to help.”

“I will. Thanks, Colin.” I really mean it, I’m grateful for his help.

A few hours later I’m sitting in my favorite chair playing Tetris on my tablet when my phone rings. The number on the caller ID is from an 850 area code. I normally don’t answer calls if the number isn’t programmed in, but this call is from where I applied for jobs.

“Jude Schafer,” I answer.

“Mr. Schafer, this is Matt Davidson with Belator Security Systems. I received your application this morning, and I’d like to discuss the opening we have. Is now a good time?” His voice is sharp, to the point. I like him already.

“Yes, Mr. Davidson, I have time. Thank you for calling.”

“I want to start out by telling you that I spoke with your brother, Colin, this morning. Based on his recommendation, I’d like you to come in for an interview. We’re currently hiring for our prisoner transport division. You’d be driving inmates to and from court or to a different prison if they’re transferred. With your background in the military and in law enforcement, I think you’re qualified for the position. Would you be able to come in on Monday so we can meet and talk more in person?”

I’m sure my jaw is on the floor, and it takes me a second to process what he just said. Did he just say I’m qualified for a job? Before I spend too much time thinking about that I answer his question.

“Yes, I’m happy to come in on Monday. Did you have a specific time in mind?”

“I’d like you to be here at ten. I’ll email you the address and directions. I look forward to meeting you next week, Mr. Schaefer.”

“Likewise, Mr. Davidson. See you on Monday,” I reply before he ends the call. Maybe having my little brother help me out isn’t such a bad thing after all.

C

The best and worst part of my job is the time off. I know it’s stupid to complain about having time away from work, but I need to stay busy in order to keep out of trouble. By trouble, I mean out of some random guy’s bed. I get bored so easily that it becomes really easy to go out and let a man take me home. Kind of like a play date. I mean, men are dicks. They act like dicks, they think with their dicks, and I like what they can do with their dicks, so I want to try them all. Does that make me a slut? I prefer to think of it as sampling the goods before committing to a purchase. Not that I’m looking to make a long-term commitment to one dick, quite the opposite. A great shopper never stops hunting for just the right thing that looks and feels good, fits just right, and makes you happy. I haven’t found one that makes me happy enough to stop shopping, and I don’t think I ever will.

Almost every other part of my life is exactly how I want it. I live in a great condo that I’ve decorated myself. I have a car that I absolutely love. My friends are awesome, even though they’ve both fallen in love and I don’t see them as much anymore. I like my job, though I’m still holding onto my childhood dream of becoming a flight nurse. There isn’t much to complain about, which doesn’t help me figure out this feeling of restlessness.

My text alert brings me out of my head.

We need to meet. When are you free?

The text is from Becca. I thought she was in class today.

Anytime. I’m off today and tomorrow.

Good. 1 hour, my house. Steph will be here too.

Well, I guess it really is urgent.

See you soon.

I respond.

After a shower and the fifteen-minute drive, I’m standing on Becca’s front porch a few minutes early. She’ll be shocked, I’m sure. I didn’t use to knock when she lived in her apartment, but walking in on her and Colin fucking on the couch does something to a person. Since that day I always use the doorbell and wait to be let in. I still can’t get the image of Colin’s white ass bobbing up and down to the rhythm of my best friend’s breathless panting out of my head.

The door flies open and hits the wall in the entryway. Becca stands there looking like a woman possessed. She grabs my hand and pulls me inside. I barely clear the opening before she pushes the door back in place and sets the deadbolt.

“What the fuck is going on? Is it Ron? Did he get out? You’re scaring the shit out of me, Becca.” I can’t help jumping to this conclusion. Last year Ron, Becca’s ex-boyfriend, kidnapped her and was going to take her out of the country. That’s also when we found out that Ron was a big-time drug dealer. Colin was working undercover for the DEA and he rescued Becca, but Ron is still in jail waiting for his trial. Until he’s put away for good, we’re always looking out for him.

“No, it’s worse,” Becca whispers. I stand there and wait for her to continue, but she just walks past me into the kitchen. I don’t have a choice but to follow her.

“Are you going to tell me or are we going to play Twenty Questions until I guess? Seriously, you better start talking or I’m going to lose it.” I can feel my anxiety climb higher and higher the longer her silence stretches out. Becca opens her mouth and the doorbell sounds. She turns and runs to the door, leaving me standing in the kitchen with horrible thoughts running through my head.

I look up when I hear the door slam and see Stephanie walking toward me with a scared look on her face as well. I’m sure she’s thinking the same thing I am. Becca goes straight to the small table in the corner and sits down, so we follow.

“Enough of this silent shit, Bec. You better tell us what’s going on right now or so help me God, I’m going to strangle you,” I tell her fully intending to follow through.

Becca takes a deep breath and lets it out. When she looks up she has tears in her eyes. “My mom is trying to take over the wedding. I feel like I’m going out of my mind. I can’t do this,” she says on a sob before burying her face in her arms.

Stephanie and I look at each other and communicate silently that our friend has gone off the deep end. I raise my eyebrow to say, “What do we do now?” and she responds by shrugging her shoulders.  I’m really bad at this emotional crap, and I know that Stephanie doesn’t really like it either. She’s a genius and very logical; she got a degree in math before she turned eighteen and now she owns a computer consulting business. Becca is the psychology major. We usually count on her to handle anything that has to do with feelings.

“Um, Becca, we really don’t know what to do with this. It’s not like you to be this upset,” Stephanie says softly. I nod my head, but our friend still isn’t looking up at us.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Becca wails. When she finally raises her head she has mascara running down her face and snot coming out of her nose. “Do you know that she wants to have a traditional church wedding and reception? She has over five hundred people on the guest list so far. There’s no way Colin and I can afford something like that!”

“So, let’s plan something else. Why don’t you elope and get married in Las Vegas?” I offer as a suggestion. It makes sense to me that the best way to avoid your pushy mother is to run off and get married before she knows what you’ve done. I mean, if you wanted to get married and had a mom who actually cared about you.

“Maybe it’s something to consider,” Stephanie says. “We can go with you as your witnesses and Colin can invite two of his friends. We could make a long weekend of it.”

“You know, that’s a really good idea,” she says looking off into the distance. “Then I don’t have to deal with my mom at all. She’ll be pissed that she didn’t get to throw a big party, but that’s not what I had planned. I wanted a small ceremony, just family and dinner. I do not have the energy or the patience to be the center of attention at a reception filled with people I don’t even know. I’d rather have the only people who have been by my side through thick and thin there with me.”

“So, when is Judy planning to have this royal affair? If you’re going to avoid it you’ll have to get hitched before she gets too far into it,” I ask. I’ve seen Becca’s mom in action and while it is fascinating, it’s also terrifying how fast she can get things done.

“She said she would need at least a year to get everything the way she thinks it should be, but she’s already started. So, I guess she thinks it should be a late spring event.”

“Then we go to Vegas in two weeks,” Stephanie says with conviction. I look across the table and see her pull her phone out of her back pocket. She starts typing and biting her lip.

“Can you get off work, Christin?” Becca asks. I know I have a lot of vacation days saved up, since I really don’t like being idle.

“No problem. I think that’s my four-day weekend rotation anyway, but I can always request a few extra days if you want us to stay longer.” I find my phone at the bottom of my purse. “I’ll send Geneva Ann a message asking for the time off.”

“Do you need to talk to Colin about this, Bec? I mean, this affects him too, obviously.” Stephanie’s question stops me in my tracks, and I look over at my friend.

“I’m sure he’ll do whatever makes me happy. Let me call him before we go any further, though, so he can arrange to be away from work.” She gets up and leaves the room with her phone pressed to her ear.

I look over at Stephanie and raise one eyebrow. “When she gets back in here I’m going to kick her ass for scaring the shit out of me. Then we can plan this elopement.”

Stephanie nods as she slumps in her chair. “Agreed. I’ll hold her down for you if you promise to do the same for me.”

“I promise,” I reply as we both start to laugh. Las Vegas, here we come!