Rock the Cradle: An Mpreg Romance (Silver Oak Medical Center Book 6) Page 10

  Alex put his hand on her back, and Derek squeezed her hand. "You did what you had to do. There's no shame in that." Derek's voice was soft and mild, the way it was when he spoke to Carmela or even to Alex sometimes.

  "In theory I know that, sometimes." She sniffed. "But I can still hear some of the girls screaming at night." She wiped at her eyes with her napkin. "I wish I had half the strength of Carmela."

  "Hey." Ivy leaned forward. "Don't go comparing yourself to her, okay? Carmela sounds fantastic, but she also saw an opportunity to get away. You didn't have that same opportunity. You weren't in the same positions as she was, with the same people, living the same way. Don't you go comparing yourself to her. You are still here. You are strong as hell, do you understand me?"

  Ayla gave a little smile. "Okay. Thanks. Anyway, the hospital got me into emergency surgery, and they got me medicine. And then they got me into foster care. I told the police everything I could, but they didn't do anything." She swallowed. "No DA would take the word of a fourteen-year-old whore against a priest. So here I am. I'm doing everything I can to try to help other kids."

  "And you're doing a great job." Derek met her eyes again. "I did ask, before you got here, you know." He flashed his pearly teeth in a quick grin.

  "That's actually good to know." She sat back.

  Alex frowned. "Okay. So, I'm with you when it comes to the whole law school thing. And I can't even begin to put myself in your shoes. I'm not even going to try." Even just hearing her bare-bones description of her ordeal would give Alex nightmares, because Alex hadn't stopped it. The whole family had been right. He should have found her, or he should have known. "But didn't anyone ever try to even look for your family? Not the justice system, not the foster care system, not anyone? Not even the folks at the ER? I mean we're not even supposed to treat a minor without parental consent."

  Ayla gave him a look that made Alex feel about three years old. "Hospitals can treat a minor for life-threatening conditions without parental consent if need be, if the parents can't be found. And I was in no condition when I was first brought in to tell them anything.

  "By the time I could speak, I told them I wasn't willing to see my family. I explained about the priest, and the shame, and the trauma. And the psychologist and the social workers, they decided they were on my side. They knew a family member had been involved with my winding up out there, so they had very little incentive to send me back."

  Alex ground his teeth together. He wanted to shout. "A family member did an awful thing," he said, through his aching jaw. "The rest of us weren't involved."

  "You know that," Derek told him, hooking a foot around Alex’s ankle under the table. Alex had no idea why the little gesture comforted him, but it did. "You know that, and I know that. I would guess that, for most of Ayla's clients, she knows that. When she was fourteen and just coming out of four years of Hell, she didn't know that, and the systems that were in place back then didn't have a lot of time and space to devote to arranging reunions."

  Ayla had tensed up when Alex got angry, but now she nodded and looked at Derek with a sincerely grateful smile on her face. "That's right. Even now, though, I think they'd have had to delay it. I mean I was a mess. It took me forever to get to a place where I was willing to be around adults, especially adult men. And I'd just spent four years with someone I'd considered an authority figure telling me my family wouldn't ever want me again."

  Derek met Alex’s eyes. "Remember that guy from Foster Home Three I told you about? He tried. His family were good people, they were. I met them. But the traffickers, they had him so turned around up here he just couldn't handle going back." He tapped his head. "It's not anyone's fault but theirs, man."

  "I know." Alex bowed his head. If his shoulders hunched any further, he'd develop a permanent curve. "I know that in my brain. It's hard not to feel rejected, but it's not about me. It's about what's right for Ayla."

  Ivy stared off into the distance for a moment. "It is," she said slowly. "But in that example you used, Derek, at least your friend's family had the comfort of knowing he was alive and safe. I can't even express, like there just aren't words, for how much lighter I feel now that I know you're alive and safe. I know Alex feels the same way. Even if you decide to stay apart, and we're not going to judge you for it, it would be such a kindness to just let Mom and Dad know you're alive." She blinked away a few tears.

  Alex took his sister's hand. "You've suffered," he added. "More than we can imagine. You disappearing, you being taken, it broke Mom and Dad in a lot of ways. I think it will help them both just to know you're alive."

  Ayla pulled back, and Derek shot Alex a reproachful look. Alex didn't care. Derek didn't have a family, except for a foster brother. Derek couldn't possibly understand what was going on here. "I don't like this." She picked up her napkin and shredded it, without seeming to notice what she was doing. "I just—I can't imagine walking into that house, and hearing Russian, or seeing icons, and if Mama starts going on about the Church I will throw up on her carpets."

  "They're hardwood now," Ivy told her, and burst into tears. "She hasn't set foot in a church since you were taken, Ayla. None of us has."

  Ayla wrapped her arms around Ivy, and they shared a good cry. Alex wanted to join in, but he couldn't do that in public. Alphas didn't cry, at least not where anyone could see them. "No one's going to judge you, sweetheart," he said again, putting a hand on Ayla's back. "This family has been centered around you for twenty years. There isn't anyone here who won't be happy to keep this family centered around you for another twenty. We love you just as you are, any way you are."

  Derek let them have their cry, sitting nervously on the edge of his seat for a moment. "If you're up for it, Ayla, I think it could help put some demons to rest for you," he said after a few moments. "You don't have to stay. You don't have to move back in. All you would do would be to show up for dinner, or maybe for coffee or tea or whatever. What would you advise one of your clients?"

  Ayla turned her head away. "I would tell them to try, so long as it was safe for them." She let out a long, shuddering breath. "I have terms and conditions."

  Alex’s joy bubbled up in his laugh. "Anything. Anything you want."

  "We do this someplace neutral. Another restaurant, maybe. I can leave anytime I need to. And I get to have someone with me. An advocate." She smirked. "I've been doing this too long. I know better than to let a client go in blind."

  Alex nodded. "Absolutely. No problem. You can pick the place, you can bring anyone you want. Invite the Pope, invite the governor, anyone you want."

  Ivy embraced Ayla again. She did that a lot, but she had a lot of lost time to make up for. "Oh my God. Anything, Ayla. Anything you need."

  Ayla swallowed, hard, and lifted her glass. "To trying."

  Derek toasted her first, but Alex hurried to toast along with him. Sure, it stung that he and Ivy weren't enough to make her feel safe, but he guessed he could accept it. He'd learned a lot from Derek. "To trying."

  Chapter Seven

  Derek sat down around the kitchen table on Wednesday with Dr. Radic, Ms. Myles, and Ayla Brennan. Carmela had retreated to her room following a therapy session, as she usually did. Everyone had their own way of processing therapy, and hers was to retreat for a while. Derek had gone out to shoot hoops or get physical. Whatever worked for the patient.

  Today, it gave Carmela's team an opportunity to sit down and go over her status. "Unfortunately," Dr. Radic began, "I think the pre-trial hearing was a bit of a setback for her. She's felt less comfortable being out in public since then. And I have to say, I don't think it's healthy for her to isolate herself like this."

  "I'm with you there." Ayla sighed and glanced down the hallway. "I see a lot of clients in her situation that do want to hide away, but it doesn't help in the long run."

  Derek frowned and leaned forward. "Look, I understand I'm not an expert or anything, and my job's mostly to shut up and take notes, but I'm with Carmela
most of the time. I think part of her issue is that she's still blocked when it comes to speaking English. She can't find help if something bad happens and that terrifies her. If she starts to overcome that, and remembers how to speak English again, I think she'll be more willing to leave the house a little bit."

  Myles nodded and sipped from her coffee. "I don't think you're wrong. Of course, we could be looking at a chicken and egg kind of situation. She could be slow to remember her English because in here, she doesn't have to."

  Radic winced. "I don't think that's it. She remembers English, she understands it perfectly. She just can't remember how to form her own thoughts. She's consuming media in both English and Spanish, and we speak to her in English."

  "I'm with Dr. Radic here." Ayla nodded. "I think it'll come as she processes everything that's happened and starts to accept that she's safe. The mind is a funny thing sometimes." She wrapped her hands around her mug. "I did find her parents, and the missing persons case for her."

  A lump formed in Derek's throat. "Are you sure?"

  "I am. I spoke to the investigating officer back in San Diego. He's keeping quiet about Carmela for now, because she's not sure she wants to make contact yet. We'll get there, I suppose. He said they were investigated when she went missing, and there was no sign of abuse or parental involvement." Ayla lowered her eyes for a moment and then looked up. "Apparently she answered an ad for a job at a local fair and was never seen again."

  Myles shook her head. "Happens all the time. It's a damn shame is what it is."

  Derek nodded. He wasn't sure how else to respond to that. "So. Did you tell Carmela?"

  "We brought it up." Radic slumped. "She burst into tears. She was convinced they'd never want to see her again, because she was 'dirty' now."

  "Damn it." Derek rubbed at his cheeks. "Look. She can stay here as long as she needs to. If she needs to stay here until she goes to college, or beyond, that's fine. I have space, whatever. But it hurts, that she thinks she's dirty. She's a goddamn hero."

  "She is." Ayla gripped the folder in front of her. It only shook a little bit. "It's a fairly normal distortion, especially for survivors from religious backgrounds. She's got good support here, and that's a good thing. Anyway. I thought it might be good for her to see a family coming together in similar circumstances."

  Derek ran his tongue against his teeth. He needed the stimulus of the little barbell in his tongue to ground him. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

  "I think that's a fine idea!" Radic beamed, oblivious, and leaned back in her chair. "She can see another family greet a missing child with comfort and love instead of the judgment she's expecting."

  Derek plastered a neutral expression onto his face for the rest of the meeting. Only when Radic and Myles left did he let it fall. Ayla hadn't been fooled. She turned to him, biting her lip. "You don't think this is a good idea."

  "Honestly?" Derek ran his hands through his hair. "I don't think it matters if I think it's a good idea or not. It's obviously a done deal. It would have been nice if you'd talked it over with me before bringing it up to two people who had no idea what was really going on, but hey."

  "I'm sorry." Ayla hunched over in her seat. "I truly do think it's good for her to see a reunion she doesn't have a stake in, if that makes any sense. She would be able to wrap her head around the idea and, hopefully, understand that it's all okay."

  "Except you're dropping her, and presumably me since she doesn't go anywhere without me at this point, into the middle of a pretty tense family dynamic with a language that neither of us speaks." Derek leaned back and looked up at the ceiling.

  "Alex promised me he'd talk to them ahead of time and ask them not to speak Russian." She tugged at her tight collar. "I'm still not up to speaking Russian."

  "I'm sure your mom will try not to speak Russian." He flexed his hand for a moment. "It's an emotional situation and it's her first language. She'll try her best, but there's only so much she'll be able to do in the moment. I've met her, remember?"

  "You did?"

  "Yeah. When everything first happened, she and your dad dropped by with a casserole. It was very nice of them, actually." Derek pushed aside his irritation at Simon Brennan's overt classism and focused on Ayla. "They wanted to do something to help Carmela, since as far as they knew they couldn't help you. But that's very different from bringing a young kid into a meeting like that and hoping everything is sunshine and roses."

  Ayla pursed her lips and glanced away. "You're probably not wrong. It's kind of like a little bit of social engineering, in a way. Having you and Carmela there ensures that everyone's on their best behavior, you know? And it makes sure I am, too. We get to show her a positive outcome, by making sure the outcome is positive."

  Derek wasn't sure where the line between his irritation and sympathy lay. He resented Ayla for using Carmela this way, but he had a hard time blaming her too. Her stomach must be churning up more acid than a chemical factory. "I don't like it," he said finally. "I understand why you're doing it. I do." He held up a hand. "If I had to have a reunion with my dad, I'd want as many neutral people around me as I could, just to make sure everyone was on their best behavior. I'm still uncomfortable with this for Carmela, and I think you know why." He forced his body to relax. "But we'll do it, because I don't feel like we have a choice."

  Ayla's face fell. "I don't want you to feel badly about this, Derek. I don't want you to be uncomfortable about it. I mean there might be a closer relationship for you and them in the future, right?" She tilted her head and gave him a little smile.

  Derek snorted. "Yeah not so much. Your father was not impressed by the hair, or the jewelry. And besides, this thing with Alex—I like him, yeah. He's nice, but I don't know if it could ever really go anywhere. And that's okay," he added when he saw her face fall. "I'm not looking for forever. I'm all about enjoying my life now, instead of worrying about what's in the pipeline." He gave her a shy smile. "When you've seen how fast everything can be over, you appreciate what you have."

  Ayla sat back and gave him a wobbly grin. "I guess. You really don't think about the future, though?"

  "As long as I've got a roof over my head and food in my belly, not really. I mean I save and stuff, I plan that way. I wouldn't be opposed to something long-term. But I'm not going to turn down a good thing now because it's not likely to be a 'forever' kind of gig, right?" He laughed. "That's a good way to wind up sad and lonely."

  "I can kind of see that." She stood up. "We're meeting up at the Chili’s in Dewitt at two o'clock on Sunday. Is that a good time for you? Alex can drive you, or I can."

  Derek scoffed. "The guy lives right next door. He can give me a ride."

  When Derek asked Alex about the ride, though, Alex turned out to be more than a little hesitant. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea." He pulled back from his position beside Derek on the couch. "I'm not even sold on the idea of bringing you and Carmela into this at all."

  Derek snorted. "Tell me about it. Although you did tell Ayla she could bring anyone she wanted."

  "I did." Alex rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't think she'd bring a kid into it, although I probably should have. I was too excited to get her in contact with Mom and Dad in the first place. I wasn't thinking clearly."

  Derek wondered if anyone was thinking clearly in this situation, himself included. "Well, you agreed to it, so it doesn't matter. She's depending on this, Alex. She needs this to get herself through the meeting. I don't like it, I don't like being used and I hate that she's using Carmela this way. But she does need to turn this into a professional exercise to get through her mental whatever." He rubbed at his forehead. "It is what it is."

  "Okay, you're probably not wrong." Alex sighed. "But it's… this is a family thing. Carmela's a sweet kid, but she's not one of us. And I like you, but you're not one of the family either."

  Somehow the words stung more when they came from Alex than they did when Derek spoke them earlier. "
No," he said, in a quieter tone. "I'm not. That's the whole point, Alex. I'm not. I'm an outsider, and I'll always be an outsider. She thinks your parents will be less likely to judge or lash out in front of outsiders like me and Carmela."

  Alex shrugged. "They might be, they might not be. This is a pretty fraught situation, Derek. And there's another thing. If you come in with me, they're going to think you're with me. They're going to assume that you and I are there together, that you're there as emotional support for me."

  Derek bit the inside of his cheek and waited for the hurt to subside. "Well, I suppose you could always explain that Carmela isn't comfortable leaving the house without me yet, and since I can't drive right now it just made sense."

  Derek must not have been able to hide his discomfort, because Alex stroked his face with the back of his fingers. "Come on, Derek. It's not like that."

  "It's exactly like that, Alex. And it's okay. It's not like I didn't know from the get-go. I want to be there for you, with all of this, but we both know how your family would feel about it." He rested his head against Alex’s chest. "Everyone knows that I don't do family, dude."