Jill Elizabeth - Duty To Defend

Their documented history of Candace “Daci” Marlowe gave fresh meaning to the term “poor little rich girl.” Not that anybody looking at her understated grooming and attire would ever guess that her personal resources could put her in with the jet set rather than the workaday world. No doubt, her parents’ antics had soured her on empty glitz and glamour, but she could have easily chosen a quiet life, out of the spotlight, without putting herself in danger. Why choose a career in law enforcement? Had witnessing her grandmother’s murder left her with a score to settle with the bad guys of the world?

As much as he’d discovered in his research, Jax still had a lot of questions about Ms. Marlowe. It was anyone’s guess whether she’d offer him any answers, and he had reasons of his own for not pressing for that level of intimacy, despite his attraction to her. He’d have to force himself to rein in his need-to-know mind. Easier said than done.

“Ja-ax!” Serena’s singsong voice made two syllables of his name.

He turned to find the young woman scurrying up to him, bright red lips pulled wide in a grin. Jax stiffened, then ordered himself to relax.

Last time Serena had rushed toward him like that had been in court when he’d successfully argued not to allow Chase to be placed with her until she’d proved herself capable of remaining sober. She hadn’t been happy with him in that moment and had used vivid language to clue him in on her feelings. At least it had only been words. He’d thought she was going to use those nails on his face.

“Hello, Serena,” he said as she invaded his personal space.

Despite her tendency to overpaint herself, she was a pretty woman, and with sobriety, the health of her personal appearance had steadily improved—eyes clear not bloodshot, cheeks filled out rather than gaunt, and interesting hair clean rather than lank with grease and neglect. “You’re looking well today.”

She wriggled at the compliment. “I feel good, and I’m doing real good. Everything’s perfect, except...” The smile abruptly fell away, and a pout took its place.

“Except what?” Jax rose to the bait.

“Chase isn’t here today.” Daci supplied the answer as she came to stand with them.

His breathing hitched. “Where is he?”

“Those foster parents of his called him in sick,” Serena said. “I think they’re making up excuses. Like, how am I supposed to bond with my son and learn how to care for him if they keep him away from me?”

“You don’t trust people much, do you?”

“Why should I?” Serena crossed her arms over her chest. “All my life, people have done nothing but mess with me.”

A troubled expression flitted across Daci’s face, and she laid a hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder. “I get that sentiment totally, but it really is against the rules to bring a sick child to day care.”

“Ja-ax.” Serena gazed into his eyes and smoothed the lapels of his suit jacket with her palms. “Would you please check on my baby for me?”

He took a half step backward. “I can do that.”

Poor Serena. Her life experiences so full of certain types of men had her thinking that any request made to a man had to be based on sex appeal in order to get his agreement. No doubt, her counselors were working with her in this area, but it took a while to overcome deeply ingrained mind-sets.

“Oh, thank you!” Serena folded her hands together. “Like, as long as I tell myself his foster parents are making stuff up, I can be mad, but if my little boy really is sick, then I’m going to be sad. I need to know. You know?”

“I think Mr....er, Jax gets it,” Daci said, sticking out her hand toward him. “Daci Marlowe, teacher’s assistant.”

Jax didn’t miss a beat in shaking her hand. If Daci were to have a chance at gaining Serena’s trust, it was important the young mother not be aware that Daci and he were previously acquainted. Serena Farnam had a highly developed sense of paranoia that would wreak instant havoc if she thought people were conspiring behind her back, even if it was for her own good.

“Jaxton Williams, juvenile rights attorney.”

“You must represent young Chase,” Daci said. “Serena’s been telling me about her situation.” She sent a kind smile toward the younger woman. “It’s got to be tough.”

Serena’s intense expression lightened. “Yeaaaah.” She breathed out long and low, as if such simple understanding meant the world to her.

An infant in a nearby crib began fussing, and Serena turned toward the sound. “I’ll get him. These babies are so cu-u-ute!” She practically skipped away.

Daci’s gaze followed the younger woman, a small frown on her lips. Jax cleared his throat, and she met his look.

“Since Chase isn’t here, I’d like to see little Annie Brown and speak to her caregiver.”

Daci smiled. “That would be me today. Follow me to the changing room, and I’ll talk with you while I change her diaper. She crawled past me a few minutes ago, while I was finishing up with another child, and I thought she smelled a bit ripe.”

At Jax’s low groan, her smile morphed into a smirk as she scooped Annie up.

“Do you provide nose plugs?” Jax followed her toward a side room.

“Wimp,” she said under her breath.

“I heard that.”

Daci’s answering chuckle warmed Jax from the ground up. She laid the child on the changing table and tickled the little girl’s plump belly. Annie giggled and kicked.

“Hold still, sweet stuff.” Daci began the changing process.

Jax stood rooted, staring, his heart shredding into tiny pieces. He’d visited this day care before, watched other babies being changed—though maybe not from this close up—but this moment was starkly different. Daci didn’t look a thing like Regan, and if their daughter had been born, she would have been much older than Annie, almost ready for kindergarten, but something about the way Daci moved, the expression on her face, the tone of her voice as she spoke to the little one hit him like brass knuckles with fresh realization of what he had lost. A deep groan wrenched his gut.

Daci’s head turned sharply. “Are you all right, Jax? You look like the Red Cross took the last pint of your blood.”

He blinked down hard against the wet sting behind his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Or I will be.” He opened his eyes to find her holding the little girl, who had gone limp and was sucking her thumb.

“Did you really have some questions about Annie, or did you need an excuse to talk to me?”

“Both.” Get a grip, Williams. “When you changed her, did you notice any bruises?”

“No, just healthy baby bottom.”

“Good.” Jax smiled. “That’s what I expected to hear. Annie had a rough start in a toxic environment, but the dad has custody now, and she’s been thriving. This was basically a final follow-up visit.”

“Aren’t these kinds of visits more social services territory?”

“Sure, but that department is spread so thin they’re more than happy to enlist the help of a nonprofit like ours to pick up the slack. I’ll write up my report, and they’ll put it in their file. At the next court date, Annie will likely be released from the system into the mainstream. We call that a success story.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Daci held the child toward him, and he received the warm bundle. The girl stared at him for a few blinks, then laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

“She likes you and trusts you.”

“I like her, too.” He gazed down at the head of wispy brown hair.

“You’re a natural. Any little Williamses at home?”

“No, not married anymore.” Jax grimaced. “That’s a story for another time. I need to get going and stop at Chase’s foster home. How are you doing with Serena?”