Chapter Two
Kylie
“Jose?”
“Eyyy Mami!”
She ignored the chuckles from the assembled group and kept moving down her checklist, to see who was supposed to be there and who wasn’t. The process was tedious, and she did so without the usual eagerness in her step that had been there when she started. Reaching the bottom, she got to the group that never showed, along with any newcomers.
“Michael?”
There was no answer.
“Eddy?”
Silence.
“Collin?”
Nothing.
Kylie sighed. Some days she wondered why she even bothered. There was only one last name on the list, a new addition. She frowned at the unusualness to it.
“Corde?”
Once more all she heard was the snickering of the juveniles pretending to be men as they made comments about their sexual prowess and what they would do to her if she would just “lighten up” or “have some fun.” Kylie ignored it, knowing that they were all talk. None of them would try anything, because they would be in jail for a long, long time if that were the case.
That and she carried a taser in her purse, though they didn’t know that.
After a solid five count of waiting for his name she started to mark him as absent. It would make the amount of people who didn’t bother to show up nearly half the size of those who were there. It was disappointing. When she’d first been hired to start the program, nearly everyone on the list had been there. But as the years went by, that number shrank. Year after year, no matter how hard she tried, fewer people reported. It’d gotten so bad she was beginning to wonder if it was her.
“Good job, Corde,” she muttered under her breath. “First day and you can’t even be bothered to show up. Some role model you are.”
A shadow fell across her clipboard as someone approached.
“I am here.”
Busy hunched over her clipboard, trying to decide who got the worst jobs, she didn’t bother to look up. “And you are?”
“Corde. You just called my name.”
His voice was deep, like the bone-vibrating bass of a thunderous snowcapped mountain avalanche as it raced downhill. Kylie had to immediately shut down her curiosity as to what the owner of such a speaking tone looked like. All she got was one impression. Huge.
“Great. Everything you need is on the table.” She waved at it with the pen-holding hand. “Grab a vest, bag, and picker. Start cleaning. That goes for the rest of you. Everyone is on garbage duty to start.”
A chorus of groans greeted her pronouncement, but Kylie just shrugged it all off. She didn’t care if they liked it or not. They had already done their crime, and now they were here to pay for it. Criminals were the same the world over, she’d decided. Very few of them were repentant of their crimes at first. But Kylie hoped that by going through her program and seeing the difference they were making in the community, perhaps she could reach some of them. Help them out, and show them the better path.
And sometimes that meant starting with something gross and nasty to get their attention.
It was about the time that she finished her notes for the day that Kylie realized the shadow was still there. She looked up at last. And up. And up.
“Can I help you?” she asked the pair of inquisitive graphite-colored eyes centered in a face full of strong, well-defined features. A powerful jaw and high cheekbones matched the steely gaze directed her way.
Before she could respond, Kylie realized that she knew the face before her. Sort of. He was the man that had looked at her so oddly two nights earlier at the coffee shop as the cops hauled him out in handcuffs. The one that had stared at her unblinking from the moment the chime had announced her arrival just ahead of the arriving squad cars. What was he doing here?
“My name is Corde. I’m supposed to report to you for community service.”
“You already did. I told you to grab a vest, bag and picker and get to work.”
He was clad in a tight fitting V-neck of light green and jeans of a dark blue wash that fit him perfectly. Thick leather workboots clad his feet, completing the ensemble. He was dressed to work, so why was he having such a hard time figuring it out?
“Yes. But I was wondering if you had any other tasks that needed doing. Anything more noble, perhaps?”
Kylie eyed him, trying to determine if he was giving her the runaround to set her up for a joke or not. But something about his demeanor, the way he held himself, told her that he was actually serious.
“Nobler? What’s more noble than cleaning up after those who consider themselves more important than anyone else?”
He shifted his weight from side to side, muscles in his core flexing and bulging slightly as he swayed in the nonexistent breeze. Kylie didn’t notice that though. Absolutely not. It would be completely unprofessional of her to drool over him. His blond hair fell to just above his eyes, and with a flick of his head he moved it out of the way while she watched. Watched. Not stared. Definitely not staring.
Shit. She was staring.
“Perhaps there is something that needs to be built? Or torn down? I’m good at those,” he proclaimed.
Kylie carefully did not roll her eyes at the giant of a man. Not when his forearms were bigger than her legs. That just seemed like a bad idea.
“No, that’s not what we’re here for. If you wanted to do that, you should have volunteered with one of the homes for humanity programs before you…” she rifled through her pages to see his form and what he’d been charged with. Her eyes grew dark and hooded. “Before you threatened people with assault with a deadly weapon.”
There was one particular type of criminal that Kylie had a hard time working with, and it was those who wielded guns and used them against others. The military was different, because their enemies often shot back. But criminals? They preyed on normal citizens, content with their invincibility with a gun in hand.
“I did not threaten anyone,” Corde protested, trying to explain himself.
She cut him off short. “Vest. Bag. Picker. Get to work. Please,” she added, not wanting to get on the bad side of the mass of muscle.
“There must be something else for me to do.”
“There is. Stop complaining and start collecting. What’s so hard about that?”
Corde looked at her, but the flinty gaze slid right off her. After nearly six years working with criminals and those who thought themselves above the law, Kylie had been stared at by some of the best. His was good, and the delicious show of muscles as his shirt tightened while he breathed angrily was both intoxicating and frightening at the same time, but it still didn’t intimidate her.
“Very well,” he said in clipped tones, seething so hard she could feel the anger pulsing off him.
“Excellent.”
He turned and walked over to the table. Almost as soon as his back was turned she breathed what she hoped was a silent sigh of relief, slumping slightly as the confrontation was averted. This Corde was going to be a tough one. He was a criminal who had the looks to go along with his lack of regard for others. This meant he was used to getting what he wanted, and she suspected telling him no was going to be difficult. But she wouldn’t give in.
Not again.
“Are you serious about this?” he grumbled from the table. “How are there no other tasks that need doing?”
Kylie did roll her eyes this time, putting on her best customer-service voice from her days in retail. “I’m so very sorry, but unfortunately those positions were already filled. Next time I suggest you show up on time or even early if you wish to be considered.” She gave him a sickly sweet smile on top of it.
Anger, disgust, disinterest, any of those were the normal reaction she expected to get in response to her comment. Instead Corde started to laugh.
“Very well, I will be.”
“That’s great. Now get to work.”
The giant of a man lifted his eyebrows, gazing back and forth between her and the field of men with plastic grabber claws and trash bags. “They all appear to be doing the same thing. Where are the other jobs?”
“Well, you can’t tell from here, but one of them is actually the lead garbage-picker,” she said, emphasizing the importance of the fake title, like she might to a child.
Corde waited for her to continue. When it became clear she wasn’t going to say more, he snatched up a vest and put it on. He pushed one muscled arm through the hole, and then another. But when he shrugged it up over his shoulders and let his arms drop, the entire thing split down the back.
She giggled despite herself, the image of his face filled with disgust as he wore two bright green and orange donuts around his arms too much to resist. Corde shot her a look that said he was less than impressed, but to his credit he didn’t take them off.
The huge man moved off into the field. They were cleaning a large section of open field today, near a busy freeway exit. It’s where they would be spending the next few days. They had to clean the field, and then the exit itself, along with the nearby section of freeway.
After her initial interaction with Corde the rest of the day seemed to pass uneventfully. Throughout the morning and into the early afternoon she found herself constantly sneaking glances at him. At first it was to ensure that he was, in fact, doing work. But when it became clear that he was trying his best to not do any work, she started monitoring his progress.
He wasn’t working very hard. Most of the others had collected two or even three bags worth of trash, and he was still on his first. As the biggest and most physically impressive person there, she’d expected him to lead the charge. Instead, he was lagging far, far behind. That was saying something as well, since none of the attendees were trying very hard to begin with.
Kylie realized she was going to have to teach him a lesson, to ensure that he got the point that he was here to do work, and not just show up. That wasn’t good enough for her and her program. None of them were going to learn anything if they just stood around. Only with some hard work and realization of what their efforts could accomplish could any of them potentially be changed, to the point that they wouldn’t commit an even worse crime next time around.
“Hey Miss, let’s have us a break now, okay? We’re getting hungry!”
She turned to see Jose, one of her least favorites and the biggest troublemaker approach. Cursing herself for paying too much attention to Corde and allowing him to walk right up to her unseen, she snapped at him.
“Jose, get back to work. You know lunchtime is at two o’clock. Stop trying to play nice.”
The tattooed career minor criminal gave her a kissy face. “Aww come on, Miss. Why you gotta be that way? I’m just trying to be nice.”
“Get back to work,” she ordered. “And just for that, you’re here for another ten hours.”
She knew that was punishing herself just as much, but maybe an extra ten hours of Jose’s “flirting” would teach her to get too preoccupied with one prisoner.
Turning around she saw Corde staring at her angrily. Was he pissed that she wasn’t letting them break early too?
Can this day be over yet?