Page 22 of Loving Roman (The Summer Twins #3)

–roman–

I stab my finger into the metal desk. “Those boys are predators in training. You need to take a tougher stance on their punishment.”

Mr. Jacobs, the principal, sighs as if he’s tired of this conversation.

I hope he understands I’ll never tire of this conversation.

Perhaps if this type of behavior is stopped at the root, there would be fewer assaults on women.

“The boys have been suspended. I can’t do any more than that, Mr. Armstrong.

” He leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk and linking his hands together.

“I don’t appreciate you coming in here and telling me how to do my job. ”

“Maybe someone needs to. You should be an advocate for the vulnerable students in your care, not turn a blind eye to the inappropriate behavior of predators and bullies. If you don’t make an example of these boys, what message are you sending?

You’re telling Evelyn and Ivy and girls just like them that their safety is unimportant.

That they don’t matter! They’ve already gotten that message loud and clear from their families!

” My chest expands and deflates violently with every word as my voice rises to an almost shout.

I pride myself on keeping my cool, being level-headed, but I can’t let this go.

“If you don’t consider a tougher stance, you’ll be complicit in any future crimes those boys commit against women. ”

Jacobs shoots to his feet, his face turning a bright shade of red as he presses his knuckles into the desk, creasing the papers in front of him and looming over me.

“Mr. Armstrong,” he grits. “I will not tolerate being spoken to in this manner. For you to suggest I don’t care about the students in this school is ludicrous and disrespectful. ”

I stand to my full height, tired of giving him a perceived advantage over me.

“Your actions and lack of a suitable punishment for those boys are what’s disrespectful here.

One additional day of suspension is unacceptable and a joke.

” I mirror his pose, leaning forward and lowering my voice.

“Or is it because the boys who were taking inappropriate photographs of the girls and selling them online come from wealthy families while the girls and Jack live in foster care?”

“You’re testing my patience, Mr. Armstrong. I suggest you take your theories and leave my office before I have you forcibly removed.”

I chuckle darkly. “I’ll leave. But don’t for one minute think this is over, Mr. Jacobs.

If you thought the boys in question came from wealthy families, you have no idea about the wealth backing Jack and the girls.

Mr. Oliver Stone has taken a personal interest in this issue as he’s rather fond of them.

We’ll be pressing charges, and you’ll hear from our lawyer.

” Jacobs’ eyes widen and his mouth gapes open, his face turning pale.

I tap my fingers on the desk and spin on my heel.

“Good chat,” I say sarcastically as I head for the door before he can respond.

My blood is boiling as I stride from the school.

I’m not a violent person, but I really could punch something right now.

I’m pretty sure I crossed the line in there, but if I’m not a proponent for the kids in my care, then what am I even doing?

They’ve already had enough shitty experiences in their young lives; they don’t need more.

I know I can’t protect them from everything, but I’ll be damned if I let this go.

I don’t condone Jack using physical violence, but I’m so damn proud of him for standing up for his foster sisters and what’s right.

In my opinion, he did the right thing. I’ve worked hard with this group of kids to build a family-style structure for them.

To create a support network they can rely on for years to come, whether they’re still in the foster system or back with their families.

I wanted them to build strong bonds and relationships with each other so they learn they don’t have to go through life dealing with everything alone.

Obviously, I’ve succeeded, and I couldn’t be prouder of the home environment I’ve created.

It’s also the reason I can’t let this go.

The kids in my care haven’t had a parental figure who loved them enough to stand up for them.

To show them they’re worth fighting for.

They need to see that I value them as people.

That I value their safety and sense of peace. That they matter.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I drag it out. My lips tip up at the display, and I answer the call.

“How did your meeting with the principal go?” Oliver asks, skipping social niceties.

I tell him everything that was discussed and explain the lack of further action.

Any sense of calm I’d found since leaving Jacobs’ office creeps back in, and I run my free hand through my hair in frustration.

“I told him we were going to report the incident to the police and that he’d be hearing from our lawyer.

When I mentioned your name, he was obviously shocked. ”

I can almost hear Oliver’s smirk over the phone.

“Good. The school won’t know what fucking hit them when I’m finished.

They’ve failed to acknowledge the seriousness of what those boys did, even when you’ve given them the opportunity to correct their handling of the situation.

Now it’s my turn. Nobody hurts my girls and gets away with it. ”

The call ends before I can respond. Oliver is a formidable man in business, and I sense he’ll be just as formidable protecting the people he cares about.

I look up at the building in front of me and shake my head.

“You’re going to wish you’d made a different decision today, Mr. Jacobs,” I whisper to myself.

I wrap the last sandwich in the quiet kitchen and place it in the lunchbox, then zip it closed. A quiet swish draws my attention to the doorway. I turn, and my breath pauses for half a second when I find Evelyn standing there, wringing her hands.

“Hey, you okay?” I ask softly. “I thought you were asleep.”

Worry creases her brow when she looks up at me. “I couldn’t sleep.” She circles her finger in front of her forehead. “My brain won’t stop going in circles.”

My lips tip up with a small smile that I hope is reassuring. “You want to share a hot chocolate with me? I find it helps sometimes.”

Her shoulders drop an inch, and she nods eagerly. “Yeah, thanks.”

I tilt my head toward a stool on the opposite side of the counter. “Take a seat.”

As she sits, I grab everything I need and set about making the hot chocolate.

My mind whirls with questions I know I can’t ask or she’ll clam up, and that’s the last thing I want.

Evelyn’s always been quiet and introspective, but above all else, she’s sensitive to the moods of others.

She needs calm and quiet support, not a million anxious questions shot at her from the other side of the kitchen.

Within a few minutes, I slide two mugs of hot chocolate and some marshmallows across the counter and then join her by taking the stool beside her. “It’s hot. Give it a couple of minutes to cool down, okay?”

“Okay.” She dips closer to the cup, blowing across the surface. I push the bowl of marshmallows toward her, and she takes two, dropping them into the steaming liquid. “Thanks.”

I do the same. “You’re welcome.”

We sit side by side for several minutes in silence. I trace the rim of my mug as I wait for Evelyn to share her worries with me.

“Sylvia Tovie told me she saw you storm out of Principal Jacobs’ office today after she heard really loud voices,” Evelyn whispers, then takes a sip of her drink.

My shoulders draw tight, creating tension up the back of my neck and across my jaw. I didn’t want the kids to know about my meeting with their principal.

Her big brown eyes peer up at me, shiny and wide. “Did you get into trouble because of us?”

A surprised sound bursts across my lips, something between a laugh and a disbelieving grunt.

My shoulders drop from around my ears, and I reach up to rest my hand on her shoulder, locking my eyes with hers so she knows I’m being sincere.

“Yes, I met with Principal Jacobs today. No, I wasn’t and won’t be in trouble because of you guys.

We didn’t agree on something, and we raised our voices.

Adults sometimes get loud when we argue, the same as you guys do. ”

“But what did you argue about?”

I sigh heavily. I’ve always tried to be transparent with the kids.

It’s how I’ve gained their trust in our relationships, but I don’t want to burden Evelyn with this.

She already somehow feels as though she’s responsible for the boys taking photographs of her and Ivy.

Unsurprising, really, when her mother blamed her for her father leaving and for subsequent boyfriends showing an unhealthy interest in her, which led to her mother beating her to ensure she was no longer appealing to the men she was seeing.

She’s been trained to take the blame for things that are out of her control.

Her eyes bore into mine, and I’m man enough to admit that it makes me squirm. “It must be about us if you don’t want to tell me.”

“I want to be one hundred percent clear with you. You and Ivy did absolutely nothing to draw the attention of those boys who photographed you. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were taking photos of lots of girls.” She nods sagely, so much more mature than her years in some ways, yet so young in others.

I blow out a long breath. “And as much as I don’t condone violence, I’m glad Jack stood up for you and Ivy.

I’m proud of him for having your back.” Her lips tip up tentatively.

“But I’m unhappy with the punishment given to the boys who took the photos and sold them online.

Mr. Jacobs and I disagreed about the severity of the issue and subsequent punishment.

” I shrug carelessly, trying to downplay how pissed I am about everything that happened.

Evelyn lifts her mug to her lips, and I can tell that her thoughts are spinning. “Do you think Jack’s going to be allowed to stay here?” she asks quietly, her voice a little shaky and unsure. “I don’t want him to be kicked out because he was protecting Ivy and me.”

“Jack won’t be going anywhere.” Over my dead body will he be taken from us for looking out for his sisters. “I’m certain once Alice has finished speaking with everyone and completes her report, they’ll agree that Jack did the right thing. Even if he went about it the wrong way.”

Alice . I wonder what she’s doing right now? I wonder if she thinks about me because she’s constantly on my mind.

“Alice seems nice. I like her. I hope she likes us, too.”

The wistfulness in Evelyn’s tone has me turning toward her. “Why do you say that? ”

She shrugs. “I figure if she likes us enough, she won’t take Jack away.”

“Ev,” I sigh. “I like Alice too, and I’m certain she enjoys spending time with you guys.”

The smile that blooms across Evelyn’s face is a relief and lifts some of the worry from my shoulders. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. But Alice has a job to do, and she can’t let her feelings for you guys cloud her judgment.

” Her shoulders sag, and an air of dejection fills the space between us like a heavy fog.

I tilt her face up to mine. “But I also trust Alice to recognize that Jack’s behavior came from a good place and that he’s a good person who deserves to be here with us. ”

“You really think so?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, I do. Jack’s never hit another kid at school, and Alice will evaluate everything she learns about Jack and the incident at school. I trust she’s intelligent enough to make the right decision.”

“Okay. If you trust her, then I trust her too.”

“Great. Now drink your hot chocolate. It’s getting late, and you have school in the morning.”

She smiles softly up at me, then dips to sip her drink. “Okay.”

As we both finish our drinks, we chat about what she has left to do on her art project for her after-school art class with Jack.

Once she’s finished, she drops to her feet and carries her mug to the sink to wash it. “Leave it. I’ll wash it up with mine.”

“Thanks, Roman.”

“You’re welcome. Sleep tight, Ev.”

She smiles at me as she slips through the doorway and heads to bed.

I sag against the counter and run my fingers through my hair, missing the length.

I hope I didn’t mess up by telling her about the meeting.

I tried to keep it as vague as I could while giving her enough information to address her concern.

She seemed lighter when she left the kitchen. This is a tough gig sometimes.

Ha! Who am I kidding?

It’s tough a lot of the time. But I’ve learned through the years to be as honest as possible without burdening the kids with adult issues. It serves no purpose when the goal is to give them back their childhood.

I breathe a heavy sigh as I turn off the kitchen light and head to bed. The morning will come soon enough, and I’ll have a fresh day to question my ability to be the best possible person for the kids in my care.