The Spark

CHAPTER 9

Donovan

“Everything go okay?” my assistant asked when I finally strolled into the office midafternoon. “I thought you’d be back in a couple of hours.”

I sighed. “Yeah, so did I. Judge O’Halloran denied the plaintiff’s motion for a continuance, so we wound up starting the trial. I’m lucky my opening argument was ready to go.”

“Oh, wow. Yeah, good thing.” She pointed toward my office door. “Your messages are on your desk, but a woman called twice. I don’t think it was a client because I didn’t recognize the name, and when I asked her what it was in reference to, she said it was personal.” My assistant winced. “She sounded sort of upset and frustrated, so you might want to call her back first.”

My forehead wrinkled. I hadn’t pissed any women off lately, at least that I knew of. “What was her name?”

“Autumn Wilde. Her number is on your desk.”

Shit. What did Storm get himself into now? And here I thought I’d gotten through to him a little bit yesterday.

I took off my suit jacket and tossed it over the back of my chair. Before I even had time to look at the stack of messages on my desk, my assistant popped her head into my office. “Umm…you have a call on line one.”

I shook my head. “Tell them I’ll call them back. I need a minute to get organized.”

“It’s Autumn Wilde again.”

I nodded. “I’ll take it. Can you shut the door behind you, please?”

Sitting down at my desk, I grabbed the receiver and pushed line one. “Autumn, what’s going on?”

“Why haven’t you called me back?”

“Because I was in court all morning and afternoon. What happened? Did Storm get in trouble again?”

“No. But I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he does considering you have him hanging out with drug addicts.”

My head reared back. “What?”

“Why in the world would you think taking a troubled twelve-year-old kid to an abandoned building filled with drug addicts would be a good idea?”

I held my hand up, even though she obviously couldn’t see me. “Hang on a second. I think you only have half the story.”

“Really? So you didn’t take Storm to an abandoned building last night? One that was boarded up?”

“I did, but—”

“And the building wasn’t filled with drug addicts and homeless people? Oh, and one guy calls himself Jesus and offered to have Storm join his disciples?”

I shook my head. “Artemis is harmless. He’s a little mentally ill, but he’d never hurt anyone.”

“Seriously, Donovan? A little mentally ill? What the hell?”

“Listen, I know it sounds bad. But you’re getting everything completely out of context. Did Storm tell you why we were there, or about Bud?”

“Storm didn’t tell me anything. When I saw him earlier today, I asked him how his weekend was, and he just shrugged and said fine. But apparently he’d been bragging to some kids about hanging out in a crack den, and one of the younger boys was smart enough to come tell me—mostly because he looks up to Storm, and the kid’s mother died of a drug overdose, so he was worried.”

Shit. I scrubbed my face with my hands. “Okay. It’s really not what it sounds like. I took Storm to meet Bud—a local who serves a nightly di

“If he was never in any danger, and where you took him was such an upstanding place, then why did you lie to the house manager?”

“I didn’t lie. I said I was taking him to di

“Don’t lawyer me, Donovan. Omitting information is as much a lie as telling an outright lie—because you’re not divulging the true story. It may be perfectly acceptable in your line of work, but it isn’t in mine, or in life in general.”

I dragged a hand through my hair. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I really think Bud can be good for Storm. I’d pla

“A job? Doing what? Selling drugs?”

I sighed. Autumn had a picture in her head, and I wasn’t going to be able to change it unless she saw the real story for herself. I looked at my watch. It was a little after five. “Did you eat di

“No. But what’s that—”

I interrupted her this time. “Good. Don’t. I’ll pick you up in an hour. We can discuss this over a meal.”

“I’m not going out to di

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not a date. Bud gets insulted if you visit him and don’t eat his cooking. So you’ll need to eat in order to check out where I took Storm. You need to see it for yourself. Text me your address.”

***

“And then when he was thirteen, he stole a Cadillac and crashed into a police car.”

I held up my hands. “I did not steal the car. Jimmy Lutz’s brother bought it for a hundred bucks.”

Bud shook his head. “He bought a one-year-old Cadillac in pristine condition for a hundred bucks, and he and his dumbass friend thought it was on the up and up, so they took it for a ride. Made it three blocks and crashed right into the back of a police car.”

Autumn laughed. She’d pretty much had a smile on her face since the minute we sat down with Bud. I’d forgotten what a charmer the old man could be. And I hoped he kept telling stories—I didn’t even give a shit if they made me look like a total idiot—because staring at the smile on Autumn’s face trumped my need to look cool by a landslide. Autumn caught me watching her, and her eyes narrowed for a second—as if she was trying to figure out what was going on in my head. I’d happily tell her, but I’d probably get smacked. It was her own fault, though, really. Because how could she expect me to watch her lips curve up in delight and not remember how they’d done the same thing when I’d gone down on her the weekend we’d spent together?

Some women make weird-ass faces as they orgasm—eyes squeezed closed, mouth contorted like they’ve just sucked on a lemon. I’d been with a woman who right before it hit, all the color would drain from her face and her eyes would go wide. Then her mouth opened for a silent scream. The first time I saw it, I thought there might be an axe murderer above me about to chop into my skull. But not Autumn. She smiled her way through orgasm. And it was fucking phenomenal.

After Bud told a few more stories about what a rotten kid I was, he excused himself to go talk to someone else.

I nodded toward the long-haired, hippie-looking guy wearing ripped jeans, who could have passed for one of the homeless who came to eat. “That’s the pastor at the local Episcopalian church. Bud doesn’t allow anyone to come in and preach—whether that be an addiction counselor or a member of the clergy. But he keeps in contact with all the local church leaders. If there’s anything going on in this community, that crew knows about it.”

Autumn watched Bud greet the pastor, and the two men walked outside together. “He’s pretty amazing. I can’t believe he’s only missed four days of serving di

“I honestly can’t remember him ever being sick, at least not sick enough to keep him down. Though I’m not sure anything could keep that man down, except maybe a rope and some chains.” I scoffed. “Even then, he’d find a way.”

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions about you bringing Storm here. I had no idea so many lessons could be taught in a place like this.”