Whispers and Wishes (Untouchable Book 4) Page 7

  None of us did.

  She met my gaze, and I held my breath.

  “Maybe we experiment a little?”

  I glanced at the time on my phone.

  We had about ninety minutes before the guys were out of school.

  “Whatever you want,” I told her, and pressed another kiss to her lips. “Let me clean this up, and we’re going home.”

  And hopefully my dick didn’t die from strangulation before then. The heat in her eyes wasn’t manufactured, but then neither was her earlier confusion.

  Take it slow would be my mantra. But I wanted her to know I wanted her. That hadn’t changed at all.

  If that meant a little torture for me, I could handle it.

  I could handle pretty much anything for her.

  Chapter Five

  Lifetime Pile-Up

  Frankie

  The experiment with Coop didn’t go anywhere, because when we got back to my apartment, Mr. Wittaker was waiting for us. I hadn’t known the attorney was coming over, and he gave me an apologetic look as he exited his car to greet us.

  “Miss Curtis, I tried to call, but I never got past your voicemail.”

  Oh.

  “I haven’t really had my phone on much.” The guys were here, and even when they were at school, one of them was with me. Otherwise, I’d have felt disconnected. I just didn’t want to answer messages yet. I still needed to straighten out how I felt about a lot of this in my head.

  “I understand,” he said. “I spoke to Mr. Standish—the younger—this morning. He let me know, but this is important, so I came to you. Do you have time to talk to me?”

  I glanced at Coop, and he gave me a nod. “Sure,” I said, blowing out a breath. “Would you like to come in?”

  It had taken a lot to work up to propositioning Coop. The guys had been amazing. Really, really amazing. But I missed more, and I wanted…well, it didn’t matter what I wanted right now. Mr. Wittaker said this was important, and I wanted my official independence from my mother. So, one thing at a time.

  My wrist ached and so did my back. Every day, I felt a bit better and could put off the pain meds longer and longer. But the aching twinges in my hand and wrist grew more pronounced with each passing hour. If it wasn’t better by the time Mr. Wittaker left, I’d take something.

  I didn’t like taking any of the pain meds. They either made me loopy or knocked me out. Most of the time, it was both.

  We sat at the table in the kitchen. Coop flipped on the light, and I opened the blinds that I almost never opened to let the sunshine in. In his suit, Mr. Wittaker seemed horribly out of place here, but he made no comment on the apartment size or state. At least it was clean.

  The guys had been pretty fastidious.

  Even in the bathroom, I’d only had to complain once about the toilet seat being left up, and they didn’t do it again. Kind of unfair I supposed, one of me and four of them, but they were being sweet.

  Flipping open his black briefcase, Mr. Wittaker pulled out two folders. Then he glanced at Coop before he looked to me.

  “It’s fine, you can talk to me in front of Coop.” He had talked to me in front of Archie, but Archie and Jeremy had paid the bill, so I supposed that might be different.

  “Actually,” Mr. Wittaker stated. “It’s not fine. Mr. Benton is eighteen, correct?”

  Coop nodded slowly as I frowned.

  “That’s what I thought.” Mr. Wittaker focused his whole attention on me. “As your attorney, we share attorney-client privilege. Anything you say to me is protected. However, if Mr. Benton stays, he can, since he is eighteen, be compelled to testify should it come down to that to anything you said here.”

  Scowling, Coop said, “I’d never tell her secrets, compelled or not.”

  “Mr. Benton, that’s a truly noble thought. However, if you lie on the stand, then you would be committing perjury. That is also a crime.”

  My stomach flip-flopped. The last thing I wanted was for Coop to get into trouble.

  “I’m telling you this, Miss Curtis, because as your attorney, when we discuss matters of the case, it should only be us. Then anything you say is protected. I can’t prevent you from telling him after the fact, but just understand—anything you share may be up for grabs if they are compelled.”

  Oh this sucked.

  “What are the chances of them being called?” I didn’t want this to spill over onto the guys. I just wanted to get out of this mess with my mom.

  “What are the chances your mother will fight this?”

  She’d have to want me to fight it, right?

  “I can go back to the bedroom,” Coop said, though he clearly didn’t like it. “You can call me when you’re done.” But he wasn’t talking to the lawyer. Instead, he focused on me. “If you’re okay with being alone with him. Otherwise, I’ll just go get my headphones and sit in the living room and turn them up real loud.”

  I wasn’t worried about Mr. Wittaker at all, but Coop’s offer warmed me.

  “I’ll be okay.”

  He nodded, then pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll just get you guys some water real quick.”

  Mr. Wittaker waited a beat as Coop filled a pair of glasses then set them on the table.

  “Give me a yell when you’re done,” he said, then headed out of the kitchen. A part of me wished he didn’t have to go, and at the same time, I couldn’t risk him getting sucked into this. I doubted Mom would fight. I missed him as soon as he was gone.

  She didn’t care about what I was doing now, right?

  “Excellent. I have two briefs here for you to see. I’ll leave copies for you to read, but I want to go over them with you now so you understand what I’m doing, and if you want any changes made, we can tackle those right up front.”

  A chill raced over my skin, apprehension and something else. This was something I needed to do, and at the same time, it felt incredibly disloyal to my mother. She wasn’t an evil person. She wasn’t even truly bad, she was just…

  “Okay.”

  “We’ll start with this one.” Mr. Wittaker flipped the folder open and turned it around to face me. “I will be filing this, with your approval, and at the same time, we will be serving your mother, Ms. Curtis, with the notification.”

  I sucked against my lower lip, then stopped immediately. The cut there had mostly healed, but it still pulled and stung.

  “Legal age of majority in Texas is eighteen, pretty standard. You can become automatically emancipated if you marry or if you join the military. However, in Texas, you still need a parent’s permission to marry before eighteen, so this won’t help you.”

  My heart did a little skip jump at the marriage comment.

  Mr. Wittaker gave me a sympathetic smile.

  “Since that’s not an option or your expressed desire, we go for a declaration of emancipation in court. Once this is filed and your mother is notified, we’ll petition the court for a swift date for a hearing. In order to address the specific considerations that a judge will want to know, I’ve listed many of the things we discussed in my office here.” He flipped the page to an itemized list.

  My mouth went dry at the first line indicating neglect. I disliked that word intensely. Taking a sip of the water, I tried to keep my hand from shaking. Not that I was having much luck. My gut churned, too.

  “First, we indicate a pattern of neglect on the part of your mother and the number of hours, days, and weeks you’ve been self-managing. This helps us on two levels, it establishes that you would not be hampered, but in fact, you would be better off without her presence, and also that you are capable of managing yourself.” He ticked down to the next on the list. “You have stable living arrangements now, but it’s my understanding the lease here is in your mother’s name?”

  “Yeah.”

  “But she has moved out?”

  I nodded. He tapped a line on the paper.

  “This is her new legal address?”

  “As far as I know. I haven
’t been there, and she’s in Europe, somewhere at the moment.”

  Mr. Wittaker frowned briefly, then picked up his phone and made a couple of notes.

  “All right, I’ll make sure to note that, because notification has to be served. But her absence can be factored into neglect. When were you notified of her trip?”

  “Technically, I haven’t been notified. Found out when the guys tried to track her down when I was in the hospital.”

  While I couldn’t pinpoint it, his expression shifted subtly from professional to disapproving. “I hate to ask this, but can you get me a copy of your hospital records? I’ll need your authorization to get them.”

  “I’m a minor still, right?”

  “True, but you can request them and then give them to me. Legally, they do have to give them to you.”

  I sighed. “Okay. I’ll call today.”

  “Good, if you want to have them fax it to my office or email it…” He slid the card over to me. “You can always have them sent to you, and then you can forward them on.”

  At my nod, he continued, “The rest of this lists if you’re financially self-sufficient. With your rent paid up through the end of May, you just need to be able to cover your utilities. The income statements you gave me show that you can. There’s also your work history, these both play in your favor. The scholarship you won and the internship option you’ve been given are both positives toward post-high school. Largely, we just need to show you can handle all of this ahead of your eighteenth birthday, which is in April, correct?”

  I nodded again. It seemed a really long way away.

  “I know this seems a little boring to go over everything again, but I don’t want a single mistake to slow this process for you.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Next he went over the other items and evidence listed that included whether I was mature enough to make adult decisions and my school records, including my attendance and GPA.

  “Is the fact that I’ve been home this week going to play against me?”

  My leg bounced steadily as I tried to keep the rest of me still.

  “I don’t believe so, you are under doctor’s orders, and you have been responsible. The police reports you filed and the questions you answered will cover any lingering concerns there. If and when you need to speak to a district attorney regarding this case, I do want you to let me know. I’ll be there to help look after your interests.”

  My gut bottomed out. I was going to make a lousy witness. I didn’t remember. I had the injuries, I had what Denitra told me, as well as what I’d gleaned from the guys, but there was this blank wall. I couldn’t tell them what really happened.

  “So that’s all of this. The next few paragraphs are standard legal information and then we have one last concern. Were you able to track down your birth certificate?”

  Shit. “I forgot I was supposed to be looking for it. I’m sorry…”

  “No worries, it’s been busy. I’ve already requested a copy of your birth certificate. It took me some time to track it down, since you were born in California.”

  I had?

  “It lists the father as unknown.”

  Not a shock. “Okay.”

  “Do you have a name for him?”

  “Nope. And he’s been kind of a no show for seventeen years.” So I probably wouldn’t know him if I met him walking across the street.

  I’d been born in California?

  “And that plays to our advantage, but like I said earlier, I want to eliminate any surprises or delays.”

  “Thank you.” Honestly, I’d had no idea what it would say. Mom never talked about him. I’d been six or seven before I even realized I didn’t have one and that I was supposed to. There were no photos of him either.

  “Do you know anything about your father?”

  I shook my head. “She never talks about him. I asked her once when I was six, and she told me he’d died. That was it. Then when I was thirteen or fourteen, we had a fight ’cause I was mad that I didn’t even have pictures of him, and she wouldn’t tell me his name. She said I should be grateful she wanted me when he didn’t. So really, your guess is as good as mine.” Those words had hurt.

  They still kind of stung.

  “I see.” No judgment echoed in his voice, though admittedly, his stern expression said otherwise. “We’ll cite abandonment for now. We can amend it later if necessary. We’ll move for an expedited hearing, and in the meanwhile, I’ll be filing this as well…” He flipped to the second folder. “This is an emergency order to emancipate you until the time of the hearing where the final decision can be made, citing the incident at Homecoming, the inability to reach your mother, and the fact that she has moved out as key factors, with the original filing providing the necessary support. If I can get this in front of a judge today, we could possibly have the order in place by next week.”

  “That fast?”

  “Yes, Mr. Standish the younger requested we move with due diligence and to try and expedite this, particularly after the issues with getting authorization for your care.”

  I hadn’t really thought about it or how frustrating that had to have been. Once I was awake, I answered a lot of questions and consented to some things—like the sexual assault kit—but I couldn’t authorize everything. Not even if it had to do with me.

  “Then I’d very much like you to get that done.” Even if it made me heartsick to cut ties with her. She was my mom. I didn’t have anyone else. Just me and the guys.

  Not that I seemed to have her anyway.

  “I think that covers all the stickier issues,” Mr. Wittaker said. “If you’d call Mr. Brennen back out, we can have him witness you signing these.”

  “It doesn’t really matter if they ask him whether I signed the documents.”

  “No it doesn’t,” he told me with a kind smile.

  I called his name, and Coop rejoined us in seconds. I could almost picture him leaning against the door in my room just waiting for me to yell. It was sweet.

  After we explained to him what we needed, Mr. Wittaker motioned to the blank lines at the end—these pages were mostly blank except for where the signatures went. I guess that covered Coop too.

  “Miss Curtis, I just need you to sign here and here.”

  I hesitated and looked at my splinted wrist and hand.

  “You can sign it with your left, we know it will be awkward, that’s why we’ll both witness you signing it.”

  Signing with my left hand proved unwieldy. No way the scrawl I made resembled my natural handwriting. Still, I got it done, and Coop added his signature to the witness line and put in proof of ID before the attorney also signed it.

  Flipping everything closed, Mr. Wittaker rose. “I’m going to let you get back to resting. I’ll have copies of this messengered to you. And I’ll update you as soon as we get a response.”

  “Thank you. Do I need to try and track down my mom…?”

  “No, I’ll take care of that. If she is unavailable to be served, I need to have a paper trail established for how we attempted it that I can show the judge.”

  Coop stood, but when I went to, Mr. Wittaker waved me back to the chair.

  “You rest, and I hope you feel better. Remember what I said about any potential questioning. Really, if you need anything at all, call me.”

  Then he was gone, and it was just me and Coop again. I couldn’t say the playful, experimental mood survived the last hour and ten minutes.

  “C’mon,” Coop said, nudging me out of the chair. “Go make yourself comfortable on the sofa. I’ll get your pain meds.”

  Honestly, I didn’t argue about it this time. As soon as I curled up on the sofa, I had Tiddles in my lap and Tabby up on the back of the couch. Coop took up the other end and propped my feet in his lap after I swallowed down my pills.

  “That was a lot,” he commented quietly.

  “I think I’m getting pretty good at the big-time drama,” I admitted, and it pulled a
real, if reluctant smile to his lips. “The weird part is I have an attorney who is helping me sue my mom because she’s not around, and it’s like I’m divorcing her. In some…weird way.”

  He gave a little shrug. “I can tell you from experience, the divorce part sucks while it’s happening, but it gets better on the other side.”

  I canted my head so I could study him. When his parents got divorced, it hadn’t been a picnic. His parents fought about everything. Coop and his dad still had issues with each other. Not that he talked about it that much. “I know you don’t like her,” I said slowly. “But she’s my mom, and I have this…sick feeling in my stomach that this is going to ambush her. Then at the same time, I’m all like, good. It’s not like she hasn’t ambushed me.”

  “You know there’s no right or wrong way to feel,” he said, running his fingers along my ankle to my calf and back. It was just a light petting motion, almost mirroring the way I stroked Tiddles where the black cat sprawled against my chest. His purring was almost as soothing as Coop’s fingers working over my leg to the top of my foot.

  “Just…she’s my mom.” I didn’t know how to express it beyond that. I didn’t like talking about her with anyone, I actively avoided it.

  “Frankie,” Coop said, clasping my ankle. “I mean it. How we feel about her should not in any way affect how you feel. I get it—she’s your mom. You care about her.”

  “She’s the only family I have, Coop.” Saying it aloud made it a scary kind of real. “I don’t know my dad, if I even have one. I mean, I know I have to have one, but he’s never been around.”

  He nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything. Maybe the lack of comment more than anything else let me talk about this.

  “I think she did her best, and when her mom came to visit a few years ago…she didn’t stay that long. She didn’t even stay here.”

  I licked my lips.

  That had been so strange. I had a grandmother, and I’d been excited. Coop’s grandmother was awesome. I liked his grandpa, too. So when Mom said we were going to see my grandmother or, more precisely, she was coming to see us, I’d been excited. Coop’s grandmother smelled like peppermints and made cookies. Mine?