Letting Him Save Me || ✎

Chapter 2

Clayton Reid POV (Re-Written)

I woke up alone and looked at my painfully bare room. I hop out of bed and walk to the kitchen still clad in my pajama pants and bare-chested. The sun is just starting to rise giving the open floor plan of my penthouse a nice glow and a beautiful view of the city. I pour myself a coffee, the only sound coming from the drip of my coffee into the cup and the pattering of my feet as I walk back to my room. I get back into bed and lean my back on the headboard before taking a sip of my coffee and grabbing my laptop from the other side of the bed that remains painfully empty. 

I open my laptop and begin my work for the day early. I place my coffee cup on the nightstand on my right to use both my hands for faster typing of reports and emails. As the CEO of a worldwide motor company that designs luxury cars my time is taken up with numbers and reports rather than company. It's lonely. 

I find myself looking out the wall of windows on the left wall rather than working and my mind wanders to an orphanage I donated money to a couple weeks ago. Being in the public eye it was good to give back, stay in the media's good graces, and I had a soft spot for little kids.

After much thought, I decided to pay the orphanage a visit, so I picked up my phone and called my secretary, "Maryanne, push my meetings back a couple hours, I'll be coming in late today." 

"Yes, sir." She responded and I hung up. 

I stood from my bed and hopped in the shower. I stood there telling myself that I was just going to check on the place. Nothing more. 

I get out of the shower and grab a white button up, navy blue trousers, and a navy blue suit jacket.

I call my driver Axel and tell him to pick me up and take me to the orphanage. 

I arrive as I see a teenage girl in light blue skinny jeans, a grey over sized sweater, and her brown hair falling down her back. She runs out the door and to the street corner. I watch as she stands with five other people and the bus pulls up a few seconds later. I watch as they all get on the bus and drive off before I step out of my car and walk up to the front door and knock. A woman who looks to be in her early 30's answers the door. She has red lipstick smeared down the right side of her chin and smudged eyeliner. The smell of alcohol and weed radiates off of her.

"Can I help you?" She says clearly annoyed.

"Yes, my name is Clayton Reid." I say and her eyes go wide as she realizes who I am. 

Her face quickly regains a slutty facade, "So you are more handsome in person, I guess the rumors are true."  She says running her pointer finger over the fabric covering my abs.

I flick her hand away, and step past her. "I'm here to make sure the donation money is being used appropriately." I look around and the entrance of the house looks clean enough.

"Well we can have a little fun. Can't we?" She says stepping closer. "My friend Mark is still upstairs and has been dying for a threesome. Wanna be number three?" She winks.

"I don't think that's an appropriate way for a foster mom to be behaving. So unless you want me to report you to DHS I suggest you get it together, put it in your pants, and show me around." I said giving her a glare. 

She straightens herself out before speaking again. "Yes, of course sir. What would you like to see?" 

"Everything."

"Okay then." She gestures beside me, and I turn to see and rectangular wooden table with eight chairs around it. "This is the dining room." She says before walking past a wooden staircase and stopping at the end of the hallway that opens up to a living room on the left and a kitchen to the right. "This is the living room where the kids usually hang out when they're not in their rooms and this is the kitchen." She says gesturing to each place as she mentions them. 

She walks left through the living room and into a hallway and immediately goes left into a laundry room. "This is the laundry room." She says then turns to the room directly across the hall. "This is the boys room." 

I peer into the room and see 4 beds and two wooden dressers. The room was bare, nothing that depicts that anyone lives in here.

"How many boys are staying in here right now?" I ask looking at her.

"Three." 

"Where is all of their stuff?"

She walks past me and pulls a garbage bag out from two of the beds.

"That's it?"

She nods.

"They keep it in garbage bags?"

"Yes." She says putting the bags back in their original spots. "They could be transferred to a new foster home at any point in time, so it's easiest if all their stuff is together and there isn't a lot of it." 

She walks past me and goes to a room at the end of the hall. 

She opens the door to reveal a bathroom that has a shower along with the usual toilet, sink, and mirror. "This is the bathroom." She says then walks past me and I follow her as she backtracks through the house and up the wooden stairs. At the top of the stairs there is a door to the left. 

She walks over to the door and opens it, revealing an office with a middle-aged woman who appears to be in her sixties sitting at one of the two desks. "This is the office. That's Delia, she handles all paperwork." Delia nods before the slutty foster mom closes the door and moves on to the next door, she opens it revealing a bedroom with 4 beds in it and a connected bathroom.

"This is the girls room, four girls are currently staying in here." The room is bare just like the last one. She moves on to the next door. "This is the supply closet where all the cleaning utensils are stored." She says before moving father down the hallway and stopping at a pinboard filled with chore lists, house rules, and who's in trouble and what their consequences are.

A girl named Haley has lost all phone privileges. I noted.

She moves to the last door on the second floor and stops right outside of it. "And this is my room." She says, not moving to open the door.

"Well, open it." I demanded.

"I don't think you need to see in there." She says standing her ground.

Getting tired of her bullshit, I open the door and walk in. She tries to protest but I'm already in the room before she has a chance to do anything. The room is dark and filled with smoke, there's a naked man smoking out of a bong not realizing that we've walked in.

I clear my throat announcing my presence to the man and he looks up at me and jumps up to grab a blanket and covers his manhood while blowing the smoke out and coughing. 

"Fucking disgusting. I think I'll talk to DHS." I say and face the foster mom. "What's your name?"

"Please, Mr. Reid you don't have to. We'll clean up our act." She says looking up at me.

"What. Is. Your. Name?" I said once again with a more demanding tone.

Her face falls and she responds, "Jane Carter."

"Okay Miss Carter, we'll see what happens. Now I would like to talk to Delia." 

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I hope you like where this is going, even though not much has happened yet haha. 

DHS = Department of Human Services