Read Online Trust in Me by Kathryn Shay - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kathryn Shay
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary, contemporary romance novel, Stock Car Racing, about families, harassment in work place, keeping childhood friends, race car romance, troubled teenagers
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His friend’s face had been mottled red, his voice condemning as he grabbed Joe by the collar and yelled, Get the hell out of Glen Oaks and never come back.
The last time Joe had seen Annie, she’d been on the floor of their apartment, her lip split, her shoulder dislocated, and cradling her abdomen protectively, she’d pleaded, Don’t kick me again, Joey, I’m pregnant.
o0o
FORCING her hands not to shake—she had control here, if she took it—Annie stared woodenly at the papers in her hands. Still by the window, she read the résumé.
Education: Three years at NYU in an accelerated Social Services program. Graduated 2000. Two years in a Masters of Social Work program, graduating Magna Cum Laude in 2002. Pursuing a doctorate in Clinical Psychology at Columbia University.
Work experience: Interned summers, vacations and weekends at: Forty-Fifth Street Youth Services, VOA Children’s Center, Catholic Family Center for Troubled Youth. Spearheaded Times Square Save-the-Kids Project
Employment: Center for Family Services, 2001 to present. Runs support groups for Children of Alcoholics, Children of Batterers, Recovered Batterers.
The last stopped her, like walking into a wall in the dark. Disoriented, she couldn’t take the whole thing in. It had to be a bad dream that she’d awakened from. But like all those other times, her contact with Joe Murphy was an all-too-real nightmare, and needed to be dealt with.
So, fine, deal with it. He might be back, but that didn’t mean he’d get access to the kids.
Kids.
Oh, no. He’d spoken only of Matt. Didn’t he realize...
Her thoughts were interrupted by his clear, controlled voice. “Now that you’ve had time to peruse my credentials, perhaps you could come to the table and we’ll talk about this Friday’s Council meeting.” Absently she noted how different his vocabulary and even his speech patterns were.
Nudging Annie, Linc said, “Come on, kid, we can do this.”
She leaned on his shoulder for a moment, taking comfort in the strong, muscled feel of him. Then she crossed the room and took a seat at the opposite end of the table from her ex-husband.
“Can we ask some questions first, Joe, before we start talking about the newest case?” This from Janice Breed.
Joe grinned. “Of course, Mrs. Breed. I just hope I can answer them better than I could in your English class.”
Some of the tension was broken by his levity.
“Are you permanently assigned here?”
“It’s still up in the air. Mamie Smith has a year’s maternity leave, so I’ll be in this job for at least that long. But honestly, I’d like to move back to Glen Oaks permanently.”
Annie’s insides turned cold. She’d read stats on batterers. Relapse, when thrown into the old situation, was high.
He spoke again, and smiled, calling attention to those dimples she’d once loved. For the first time, she allowed herself to take in his appearance. Though he was only in his late thirties, he’d aged dramatically. His dark hair had turned salt and pepper. He’d donned wire-rimmed glasses, accenting the lines around his eyes. His clothes were neatly tailored—a gray blazer under which he wore a pristine white shirt and tie, with black slacks. She shivered as she glanced at his hands. They were big, still capable of great pain, even though they were bordered by starched cuffs now. Expensive dress for someone who had worked in Social Services.
She recalled the large child support check she received every month. Where did he get his money? Drugs? Though they’d done pot when they were young, they’d quit in their twenties. He drank like a fish then, but never touched anything else.
She tuned in when Roman Becker asked, “Why’d you leave Glen Oaks in such a hurry, Murphy?”
Joe swallowed hard and his gray eyes flashed with something—not anger, something self-directed. “For personal reasons, Mr. Becker. I can assure you, I’ve changed since I last walked the streets of this
The last time Joe had seen Annie, she’d been on the floor of their apartment, her lip split, her shoulder dislocated, and cradling her abdomen protectively, she’d pleaded, Don’t kick me again, Joey, I’m pregnant.
o0o
FORCING her hands not to shake—she had control here, if she took it—Annie stared woodenly at the papers in her hands. Still by the window, she read the résumé.
Education: Three years at NYU in an accelerated Social Services program. Graduated 2000. Two years in a Masters of Social Work program, graduating Magna Cum Laude in 2002. Pursuing a doctorate in Clinical Psychology at Columbia University.
Work experience: Interned summers, vacations and weekends at: Forty-Fifth Street Youth Services, VOA Children’s Center, Catholic Family Center for Troubled Youth. Spearheaded Times Square Save-the-Kids Project
Employment: Center for Family Services, 2001 to present. Runs support groups for Children of Alcoholics, Children of Batterers, Recovered Batterers.
The last stopped her, like walking into a wall in the dark. Disoriented, she couldn’t take the whole thing in. It had to be a bad dream that she’d awakened from. But like all those other times, her contact with Joe Murphy was an all-too-real nightmare, and needed to be dealt with.
So, fine, deal with it. He might be back, but that didn’t mean he’d get access to the kids.
Kids.
Oh, no. He’d spoken only of Matt. Didn’t he realize...
Her thoughts were interrupted by his clear, controlled voice. “Now that you’ve had time to peruse my credentials, perhaps you could come to the table and we’ll talk about this Friday’s Council meeting.” Absently she noted how different his vocabulary and even his speech patterns were.
Nudging Annie, Linc said, “Come on, kid, we can do this.”
She leaned on his shoulder for a moment, taking comfort in the strong, muscled feel of him. Then she crossed the room and took a seat at the opposite end of the table from her ex-husband.
“Can we ask some questions first, Joe, before we start talking about the newest case?” This from Janice Breed.
Joe grinned. “Of course, Mrs. Breed. I just hope I can answer them better than I could in your English class.”
Some of the tension was broken by his levity.
“Are you permanently assigned here?”
“It’s still up in the air. Mamie Smith has a year’s maternity leave, so I’ll be in this job for at least that long. But honestly, I’d like to move back to Glen Oaks permanently.”
Annie’s insides turned cold. She’d read stats on batterers. Relapse, when thrown into the old situation, was high.
He spoke again, and smiled, calling attention to those dimples she’d once loved. For the first time, she allowed herself to take in his appearance. Though he was only in his late thirties, he’d aged dramatically. His dark hair had turned salt and pepper. He’d donned wire-rimmed glasses, accenting the lines around his eyes. His clothes were neatly tailored—a gray blazer under which he wore a pristine white shirt and tie, with black slacks. She shivered as she glanced at his hands. They were big, still capable of great pain, even though they were bordered by starched cuffs now. Expensive dress for someone who had worked in Social Services.
She recalled the large child support check she received every month. Where did he get his money? Drugs? Though they’d done pot when they were young, they’d quit in their twenties. He drank like a fish then, but never touched anything else.
She tuned in when Roman Becker asked, “Why’d you leave Glen Oaks in such a hurry, Murphy?”
Joe swallowed hard and his gray eyes flashed with something—not anger, something self-directed. “For personal reasons, Mr. Becker. I can assure you, I’ve changed since I last walked the streets of this
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