Finding Home

Chapter 2

"I have to stay here until the end of your shift?" I ask, as I'm already bored, and not wanting to be here. 

"Yup, my shift ends in four hours at 3 p.m.," he returns with a shrug of his broad shoulders. "While I'm on patrol, you'll be hanging out with Shelly in dispatch."

 "Can't I look for my brother on my own if I promise to be back here just before the end of your shift?" I beg with wide eyes, trying to use my baby blues to my advantage. 

"Sorry, not happening," he returns unaffected by my tactic with a shake of his head. "I have tomorrow and Sunday off, so I'm taking you clothe shopping and enrolling you in school."

"How are you going to enroll me in school on a Saturday?" I argue, not wanting to attend another school that I'll have to leave again.

"I'm doing that today once I'm off work," he returns with a smirk as if he knew I was trying to get out attending school. 

Pouting at him as we walk to his desk where he sits to do paperwork, I hate this until a thought floats into my mind; "You don't have my birth certificate."

He fucking smirks at me; "Mr. Walters, your new caseworker is faxing a copy here by 3 p.m."

"Ugh," I sigh, rolling my eyes at him while dropping down into the chair next to his desk. 

"Knock off the attitude, Wyatt," he growls lowly, giving me a small glare. 

"Or you'll do what? Arrest me and put me in juvie?" I snap back. "News flash, I've been arrested and sent to juvie three damn times since I was 12-years-old, and I can handle those better than you think."

I have the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen and his jaw tick several times before he schools his expression as he stares at me asking; "For what?" 

Shrugging my shoulders at him as I smirk; "I was arrested and sent to juvie for punching a foster dad who was trying to hit a younger kid in the house, and twice for stealing food."

"Well, you're going to behave yourself if you want to see your brother once we find him, and make something of your life as you grow," he scolds, his eyes buring with firery determination. 

Scoffing at him with another eye roll; "I'm not going to amount to anything in my life except a punching bag for the foster families I'm placed with."

"Kid, you're more than a punching bag, and you can be whatever you want to be when you're older," he tries to reassure me. 

"Yeah, okay," I scoff again and roll my eyes at him. 

"Your eyes are permenitly going to lodge in the back of your head if you keep that up," he scolds with a glare. 

"Dude, your not my fucking dad, so stop acting like it!" I snap with a glare. 

"Speaking of your parents, what happened to them?" he asks, glancing up from his report he is writing. 

"My dad beat my mum to death in front of me and my brother when I was 8-years-old and West was 2-years-old. He was beating me for dropping a can of beer I was ordered to bring him, and while he was beating me with a belt, mum hit him over the head with a vase," I reply in a monotone voice, and avoiding his eyes. 

"Swayer, we've gotta go," Officer Adam says from behind me, causing me to flinch slightly in surprise. 

"Alright, you stay here with Troye instead of Shelly," Officer Archer quickly tells me, as he leaves me alone in  a room with several other cops, who are either outright starring at me or side-eyeing me. 

"Hey kid, I'm Troye," a cute red-head with light forrest green eyes, and a black cast on his left arm asks coming over to me. 

Scanning his face, I find only honesty in his face and question, so I slowly nod; "What can I have?" 

"What would you like?" he grins showing me a set of deep-set dimples that are very cute on him.

"Can I have a turkey and cheese sandwich?" I ask trying not to sound too hopeful or desperate.

"You sure can, let's go to the cafe next door for lunch," he grins even wider at me, and I didn't think if he smile broadens his face will split in two.

"Officer Archer won't get mad at you or me for me leaving the station?" I ask as we walk the short hallway toward the front door. 

"He won't don't worry. Are you worried he will be?" he wonders as we step out onto the sidewalk and turn to the right.

"Not worried, more like curious at his personality as I'll be living with him until further notice," I reply with a shrug.

Troye opens the door of the small cafe called 'Jimmy's', and has me enter before him as he replies; "Swayer won't be mad I'm taking you out for food, as he's an awesome guy,"

I keep quiet as we stand in line to order, and I take in my surroundings - the light baby blue painted walls, and canvas paintings and camera pictures on the walls. The menu is on the wall over the counter. 

"Order whatever you would like, Wyatt," Troye informs me with a kind smile once we've reached the counter. 

"Okay," I murmur becoming uncomfortable and embarressed when I realize that people are starring at me and my dirty clothing and appearance, and I'm sure I smell horrible since I haven't bathed in weeks. 

"Hi and welcome to 'Jimmy's'. What would you gentlemen like?" the young lady with blond hair and blue eyes behind the counter asks with a forced smile at me, and a flirtatious smile at Troye.

"I'll have the BLT sandwich with extra mayo, an order of sweet potato fries, and a chocolate milkshake, please," Troye orders before looking down at me. 

"A turkey and cheese sandwich with mayo and a water, please," I softy request, knowing my stomach won't be able to handle more than this, and I already hate that Troye is spending money on me. 

"You can have order more, Wyatt," Troye gently tells me. 

"I wouldn't be able to handle more than that, but thank you," I whisper back, as I keep my eyes on the white and black tiled floor. 

"Okay, that's all for our order, miss," Troye tells the woman, and once she totals the order he pays, before we stand off to the side and wait. 

"Thank you for lunch," I whisper to him once we've sat at a table with the meal. 

"You're very welcome, Wyatt," he grins, unwrapping his sandwich and takes a large bite. 

We talk about many different topics, but not why I'm staying with his co-worker, why I look and smell, and for this I'm very grateful. When we finish our lunch, and Troye leaves a tip on the table under the corner of his plate, we walk back to the station. I hang out with Troye until Officers Archer and Adam return at the end of their shift, do their paperwork and then we leave. He keeps true to his word, and he enrolls me in 'FaithView Academy', and much to my hatred and horror, I start Monday morning at 8 a.m.