Everything I Desire (Lupine Valley #3)

2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

Porter

I am working at the auto shop on a minivan. The owner of the van, a mom of three, is blatantly flirting with me while her wedding ring is glaring at me from her left ring finger. As if I’d ever mess with anyone from work, let alone a married woman.

I look at my phone again, seeing a New Hampshire number calling me for the fourth time. Social Services most likely. My sister Maura has struggled with addiction since we were teens. My parents not any better, died of overdoses themselves years ago.

The police always call me when she’s found passed out in a crack house. I told them to stop calling me after a while, she wants nothing to do with me, and she won’t accept the help I have offered many times over the years since I left Lupine Valley.

I tried to get custody of my niece, but every time, Maura would pull it together long enough to keep her kid. It killed me to walk away, but I couldn’t keep paying lawyer’s fees when the judges were always in favor of the biological mom .

I battled with her in court for about five years. Of course, Kayla doesn’t know any of this. I’m sure Maura has told her that I just up and left them, playing the victim as she always does. She refused to let me have any visits with Kayla. She convinced the judge that I would attempt to kidnap her baby and bring her back to New York with me.

I keep in touch with Stacey Miller, the social worker on our case, occasionally. She keeps me updated on Kayla and last I heard Maura was still the same, constantly choosing drugs over her child. Just like our own parents.

When I was done with the woman’s minivan and her bill was settled, I pulled out my phone to listen to the voicemail.

Hi Porter, this is Stacey Miller, from Social Services in Lupine Valley. It is important that I speak with you as soon as possible. Please return my call at your earliest opportunity. Thank you.

Of course it was social services. What did Maura do now?

“Hey, Ed, I’m taking five. I gotta make a call.”

I hold my phone in the air and point. Ed can’t hear me over the heavy metal blasting through his earbuds. He is a fifty year old gearhead who took a chance on me when I ran from Lupine Valley at eighteen. He gave me a roof over my head, and a job. He and his family have become the family I didn’t have growing up .

Although, he’ll never let you say anything that might compliment him without a sarcastic comeback.

“Yea. Whatever, kid.” He waves me off, his way of saying I don’t need to ask.

I walk outside, the wind whipping at my back as I huddle into the small alcove at the back of the shop. Winter in upstate New York is not for the faint of heart.

I press the green call button, and brace myself. Every time I get these calls my heart stops before I’m given the news, I’m always so scared to hear that my sister finally killed herself with that poison like Mom and Dad.

“This is Stacey Miller,” she answers almost immediately.

“Hi Stacey, this is Porter Jackson. I’m returning your call.” I feel like an idiot announcing who I am, as if she doesn’t have my number saved, she definitely has it memorized from calling so many times over the years.

“Hi Porter. I’m sorry to have to make this call.” I rub my hand over my face, this is it.

“Your sister is missing. She left home about five, almost six days ago now, and we haven’t been able to locate her at any of her normal hangouts.”

I let out a long sigh. While this isn’t good news, at least she isn’t dead. I’ve been expecting that call since my Mom passed away. Mom and Maura were always close, doing drugs together, partying. When she died, Maura spiraled even further into the dark abyss than she already was.

“What about Kayla?” I ask.

“Well that’s why I’m calling. She’ll need a guardian, or a family member to take custody of her while her mother is missing, or on a more permanent basis if things don’t improve.” Stacey sounds exasperated, no, irritated actually.

She’s been on my side at every court appearance, wanting Kayla to have a more stable environment. I went to school with Stacey, but her father is old Sheriff Miller. So I never stood a chance of getting custody between him and his best buddy, the judge.

“Of course, where is she now? I need to talk to my boss before I can head out, I could probably be there early tomorrow morning. But I need to know she’s safe for the night.”

“She is safe. She is actually spending the night with her homeroom teacher. They have a very close relationship. The teacher has been looking out for her for a little while. Kayla is happy with the decision for this evening, and I told her teacher I would be getting in touch with you.”

“Okay, thanks so much. I’ll call you tomorrow morning when I arrive in town, or I can just swing by your office.”

“Just come on by, that would be fine. Then we can go see what kind of shape the house is in.”

Once I end the call I let out a deep exhale. This is not going to be an easy journey .

I shove my hands in my pockets and head back into the shop to talk to Ed. Here’s hoping he’ll be just as understanding about an extended leave as he was about all the court dates in New Hampshire.

I can’t decide if I want to throw up or run again. The sight of my childhood home, well, trailer because let’s be honest no one ever made it a home, was more depressing than the last time I was here, and that was almost ten years ago when I grabbed everything my then girlfriend, Adelaide Harper, ever gave me and ran like a coward.

I open the door and walk in, it smells of urine, sweat, and who knows what else. It’s disgusting and should probably be condemned, but I know I’ll have to start cleaning just so we can stay here until Maura is found.

My phone rings, and it’s Stacey, “Hey Stacey, I just got to the house.”

“Hey, Porter, thanks for coming so quickly. I talked to Kayla after you left the office and she is pretending to be okay, but I know she’s struggling. Her teacher said that she did okay last night but she’s still worried about her.”

“Yea I’m sure she is. I’ll talk to her after school today. I’m going to look around the park for Maura in a little bit. I just needed to assess the situation here first. Have you been by here recently?” I ask, because there is no way they haven’t taken Kayla if they’ve seen the place.

“Unfortunately, yes. But you know your sister. She does the bare minimum to keep Kayla until we show up again.” Right. I do know that. I battled it for years. I tried to get Kayla and give her a better life. It killed me to leave her behind. She was five when I left, but I had no choice. As soon as Dad passed away, I started fighting for custody. But no one trusted a twenty-one year old kid who lived above a mechanic shop in a studio apartment. I tried again a few times over the years, and found out it didn’t matter what I did. I’d never get my niece.

“Yeah I know. Thanks for looking out for her, Stacey.”

“No problem. She’s doing really well despite her situation. You should be proud of her. I also let her teachers know that you are home now for her if she wants to leave early to give you a call, otherwise she’ll be home on the bus.” She sounds proud of Kayla herself. She’s taken her under her wing, and I’m glad she at least has someone looking out for her.

I should have come home sooner. But I couldn’t. I tried to help Maura, tried to get her to come to New York with me once I was settled at the shop. But she always chose the drugs over me and her daughter. We were close at one point, best friends, until the drugs took over .

Another thing I couldn’t risk again was seeing Adelaide. I would never be able to leave her a second time, and she shouldn’t be tainted by all that my life is. I still don’t know if I can survive running into her. But Kayla needs me to show up for her so I need to put my own shit aside.

Maybe my luck will start, and she’ll have moved out of town.

Two hours later, I’m standing in the kitchen, calling all the hospitals within a 50 mile radius. I’m on hold with the hospital about an hour away waiting for someone to answer the phone.

“Porter Jackson?” A voice comes through the line.

“That’s me,” I answer.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Caleb Holden. We do have a Jane Doe here that was brought in a few days ago. She’s currently in a coma, but she does fit the description of your sister. Is there any identifying marks on your sister that would help us identify her?”

Oh, besides the track marks up and down her arms?

I tell him about a couple of her tattoos that I can remember, and a scar from when she fell off her bike as a kid then I’m back on hold.

“I’m sorry Mr. Jackson, our Jane Doe doesn’t appear to have any of those identifying features on her. These addicts are always showing up and we have no way to identify them. All these deadbeats out there on the streets living off the wages you and I get taxed on, am I right?”

I glare at the phone, wondering if he knows how insensitive he sounds. Shouldn’t he be trying to console me that he doesn’t have my sister and she’s still missing? He doesn’t know anything about our relationship.

“Uh, thanks for checking. If you get anyone else that matches my sister’s description could you give me a call?” I ask, hoping for some help from this asshole.

“Of course, I’ll let my nurses know. They usually deal with these addicted Jane Does. Good luck Mr. Jackson.” With that he hangs up and I’m left staring at my phone wondering where this jackass got his degree.

My phone immediately buzzes in my hand.

Ed: Hey kid. Hope you made it. Haven’t heard from ya.

Shit. I forgot to let Ed know I made it. I guess I need to prepare him for how long I’ll be gone.

Me: Sorry man. I’m here. Just dealing with all the shit, ya know? Sounds like it might be a little longer than I originally thought, you cool with that ?

Ed: ‘Course kid. You let me know if you need anything.

Once I put my phone down, something catches my eye in the front yard. I see Kayla making her way down the driveway, and I can already feel the anger radiating off her. The scowl does nothing to hide her mood.

I’m sure she’s pissed at me for not coming around, and I know Maura spun some bullshit about me to her. At least it wouldn’t surprise me if she did. I can probably guarantee that Maura threw away all the cards I’ve sent her over the years for holidays and birthdays.

The front door slams. Five stomps down the hallway, and a slam from the bedroom door.

Great.