Heartbroken

Chapter 18: Mr. Chans

 I looked at the two girls sitting in front of me, both expecting something. I sighed.

"Girls, I have decided to see if I can take custody of you."

Allegras eyes narrowed, but Mercy's just widened.

"What does that mean?" Mercy asked, confused.

"You really want to take custody of us?" Allegra interrupted, narrowing her eyes. "Why?"

I glanced at Mercy, hesitant to speak about sensitive topics such as their abusive relationships with their relatives. Allegra put an arm around Mercy, keeping eye contact with me as she said, "She can stay."

I straightened the papers on my desk, clasping my hands in front of me, considering what to say. "I've heard of some... incidents, and my son was always suspicious of your relatives."

"Milo?"

I nodded.

"Would we... live with you? If you adopted us?"

"It wouldn't be adopting. Adoption takes a lot of paperwork and sometimes you even have to go to court. I would simply be taking custody of you. You wouldn't be considered as my children, or that Milo is your brother, but I would have legal rights over you. You would live with me, and I would be responsible for you. All you need to do is sign here." I placed the paperwork on the edge of the desk, a pen lying on the corner of the paper.

"When would this be put into action?" her voice quieted.

"As soon as possible. I was planning on meeting with your relatives today."

"Today?" the blood drained from her face and she looked down at the paper. Mercy glanced from me to her sister, finally hopping off her chair to grab a pen and sign the bottom of the paper. I stayed silent as she sat back in the chair, looking at Allegra, urging her to take the pen. Her hand shook as she signed the line underneath Mercy's signature.

"You won't regret this," I said as I took the paper, signing my name as well.

"I know."

I stood, stacking the papers neatly. "Now, I'll be off to talk to your relatives. George will show you to your new rooms. He'll bring your stuff when everything is settled." Walking around the desk, I shook Allegra's and Mercy's hands. "Welcome to the family."

I stepped out of the limo with my briefcase, straightening my suit coat and examining the house I was about to enter. It was short - only one story tall, and reached out to the very sides of the small property. On one side ivy grew up the brick, covering a window and climbing onto the roof. Two cement steps led up to the door, the wood dark and chipped in some places. Bushes grew where they wanted, and weeds overpowered the garden lining the front walkway. The cement was cracked and fading.

I walked to the door, briskly knocking with my knuckles, then stood back, waiting.

"Who is it?" a voice said gruffly. I could hear heavy footsteps as they came to answer the door. It swung open, providing view of an old-looking man with a bald spot on the front of his head. His eyes were a piercing blue, his nose as straight as a ruler, eyebrows arched in suspicion. The stubble around his lip and chin suggested that he hadn't shaved in several days. He examined me without bothering to hide it, narrowing his eyes at my suit. I held out my hand.

"You must be Mr. Rainer."

He didn't take my hand. I withdrew my offer and held my briefcase with both hands. Instead of asking permission to enter, I shoved past him and entered myself.

"Hey!" he protested, following after me. "You're crossing on prohibited land. Don't you need a warrant?"

I found the living room to be in quite a mess, so I settled myself in the kitchen where the smell of beer was very strong.

"I don't need a warrant," I chuckled. "Sit."

"There ain't no way – "

"My name is Michael Chans. Sound familiar?"

His face paled significantly.

"Good. Now. Sit." I watched him until he pulled a chair from the table and sat. The chair legs squeaked.

"Where is your wife?"

He shrugged. "Dunno,"

"Well, I suppose you'll have to do."

He stayed silent.

"I am under the impression that you are the guardian of two girls: Allegra and Mercy Contessa."

"What about 'em?"

"I've heard many accounts of mistreatment of these girls. Do you know who it might be?"

He looked down, fidgeting with the hem of his stained shirt.

"Beer?" he asked, getting up to retrieve some bottles from the fridge.

"No thank you. Mr. Rainer, did you know that you could be imprisoned for the way that you have hurt those girls?"

He took a swig from his bottle. "What girls?"

"Allegra and Mercy,"

He grunted. "You got proof?"

"Mr. Rainer I don't need proof to send you to jail. But I want to make a deal with you."

He took another swig, eyeing me again with that suspicious look.

"What kinda deal?"

"A trade."

"For what?"

"I want custody of the girls. If you give them to me, I won't send you to jail."

He laughed. "I ain't afraid of jail, mister. Ya gotta try harder 'n that."

"Are you interested in money?"

"Money? Now we're talkin." He grinned, and I noticed just how yellow his teeth were.

"What would you say to 5,000?" I was reluctant to start the price so high, but there are ways to give fake money to someone, especially when they're almost always drunk.

"10"

"What about 6?"

"Eight thousand is the lowest I'll take. No exceptions." He grinned, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. I pretended to think, chewing my lip, but I had already decided in my head that I would give him the money. The fake money.

"Eight thousand it is, then," I agreed, pulling the papers out of my briefcase. "If I could just have you sign here..."

So the agreement was solidified, and I promised to mail the man the money. I let myself out, shaking my head. He was so gullible. I would mail him some fake money, and he would be sent to jail for money fraud and all of the other crimes that he had already gotten away with.

It felt good to be back again.

I haven't done this enough.