Мама, я демона люблю!. Даха Тараторина

shirt and with her hair tied back in a braid, she could have been mistaken for one of the girls, but the creases at the corners of her eyes and her attempt to corral the teens behind her signaled that she was in charge.

      For several heartbeats, she stared back at him, a deer caught in his headlights, and then, as her cheeks turned a pretty pink, she shifted her gaze to Blake.

      Mark cleared his throat. If he couldn’t avoid noticing a female while on the job, at least he’d chosen the only adult in the room. She didn’t appear to be pregnant like the girls either, he noted, feeling strangely relieved. What was that about?

      “May we help you, Officer? Has something happened?” She glanced from Mark to Blake, her gaze narrowing.

      He frowned, expecting idiot to be stamped on his forehead. Who could blame a woman in a house full of pregnant girls for being cautious when facing a police officer and a teenage boy in handcuffs?

      “Everything’s all right, ma’am. My name is Trooper Mark Shoffner.” He paused, clearing his throat again. “We apologize for the disturbance. There was a mistake about the address.”

      “Oh... Okay. You must be new. This home is a center for teen mothers. It’s called Hope Haven. I’m Shannon Lyndon, the housemother and one of the social workers.”

      At least she hadn’t asked more about why he’d brought a dirty, handcuffed teen to her front porch because he wasn’t sure how to answer that. She wasn’t looking at him, anyway. She was studying Blake as if he was a science specimen. Finally, she shook her head. Her cheeks flushed again. Mark hadn’t noticed earlier, but her hazel eyes struck him now as familiar. Had he met her before? That was unlikely since he’d only transferred to Brighton a month earlier, but he couldn’t shake the sense that he knew her.

      “Well, thank you and sorry, again, for the disturbance.” He backed away from the door, pulling Blake along with him, but the boy dragged his feet.

      “Wait.” Blake’s voice was tight.

      Mark stopped. “What’s going on? I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but I’m not impressed.”

      He wasn’t happy with himself either, for letting his curiosity get the best of him and for agreeing to come here in the first place.

      “I can explain.”

      “Well, you’d better start. Now. Did you think it would be funny to bring us here? Because this obviously isn’t your house.”

      The boy didn’t crack a smile, didn’t even look his way. Instead, he trapped the housemother in a straight, accusing stare.

      “No, I don’t live here.” He paused a few heartbeats before adding, “But she is my mother.”

      Chapter Two

      Voices all around Shannon erupted in varying tones and speeds, but the words themselves were muffled and faraway. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Mother. The word she’d waited fifteen years to hear spoken in reference to her, the word she carried in her heart, so soft in its potential, its reality full of jagged edges.

      But the venom she hadn’t expected. Now she didn’t know why she hadn’t prepared herself for that. She didn’t question for a second that this was her baby. Her big boy now. He was standing right there in front of her, dirty, sure, but tall and handsome. She couldn’t get enough of seeing him. Eyes so like her mother’s...and her own. A face that looked like, well, his father.

      Taking in all of him, she couldn’t help but notice that his arms were cuffed behind him or that he appeared to be in the custody of a uniformed police officer. One with the heavily lashed black-brown eyes and the short brown hair that showed off the kind of face that could have been—no, should have been—sculpted in marble. Shannon blinked, catching herself staring again. She’d had no business gawking at the handsome officer even before she’d recognized Blake. Now it was unforgivable. What kind of woman allowed a man to distract her at a time like this? Well, someone who’d allowed a guy to sidetrack her in the past from what really mattered. But not this time. She didn’t care about the trooper’s broad shoulders and strong-looking arms and chest dressed up that navy blue uniform with its silver tie and badge.

      She pushed those unacceptable thoughts away and zeroed in on Blake. Why he’d chosen to come here today, how he’d gotten into trouble, even the officer who’d brought him here—none of that could matter. Nothing except that he was here now.

      “Blake?” It was the first time she’d ever spoken his name aloud, and she could only manage a squeak. She cleared her throat. “It is Blake, right?”

      He didn’t respond as he stood, shifting his feet, but he didn’t look away, either. It was something. She braced herself and accepted the accusation and conviction in his gaze the best she could. He deserved that much, and if he gave her the chance, she would make him understand.

      “She had a baby?” someone said in a low voice. “A baby as old as him?”

      “And he got arrested? That means...”

      Whispered questions that escalated to frantic chatter invaded her senses, making her vaguely aware that they weren’t alone, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away from her son. Her son. Just the thought of it made her long to reach out to touch him. When she could no longer resist, she took a tentative step toward him, her hands lifting from her sides.

      “Do...not...touch...me.”

      His words were a wall of glass, keeping her from the only thing she’d ever wanted, the chasm between them suddenly huge and growing. She’d never expected to feel anguish again like the day the nurse had carried her blanketed baby from the birthing room and from her life, but here it was again, bitter and deep. If she could move at all, she would have collapsed into a heap of loss.

      “Why don’t we take this conversation inside?”

      She blinked at the sound of the officer’s voice, and her gaze flicked to him. Accusation filled his eyes. His expression was as hard as Blake’s was. What right did this stranger have to judge her when he didn’t know all the facts of the situation? He didn’t even know that the choice hadn’t really been hers. But then Shannon shivered as she became aware of the frigid air pouring in through the gaping front door. And that Blake’s sweatshirt was so thin.

      “Oh. What was I thinking? Sorry.”

      Backing away from the door, she bumped into Holly right behind her. She whirled to face the shock on so many of the girls’ faces. How betrayed they had to feel over learning about her secret this way. They would never understand that it was her shame and not a fear of trusting them with her story that had kept her from sharing it.

      “Miss Shannon?”

      So many questions were folded into Holly’s two words, and Shannon promised herself she would answer every one of them, but she owed her son an explanation first.

      “Girls, could you just give me—”

      “We’re going to need to speak privately with Mrs. Lyndon,” the trooper said, interrupting her.

      “Miss,” she corrected.

      His gaze flicked to the bare finger on her left hand. “Sorry. Miss.” Guiding Blake inside, he closed the door behind him. “Ladies, could you give us a few minutes?”

      The teens paused, reluctant to leave her alone with the two males.

      Chelsea, who had celebrated her fifteenth birthday at Hope Haven just last week, touched her arm. “You going to be okay?”

      Shannon nodded, though she was as unsure as the girls appeared to be. “I’ll be fine. Just work on your lessons in the computer room. I’ll be in as soon as we’re finished.”

      She didn’t bother telling them that everything would go back to normal when she returned, if she could call these lives they’d lived on a tangent at