Текст книги "The Will"

Автор книги: Kristen Ashley

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Текущая страница: 32 (всего у книги 35 страниц)

But Sofie was that good.

What on earth was there to bully her about?

“How was Sofie bullied?” I asked and Amber shrugged.

“It was Mia and her crew,” she answered and I felt my mouth get tight at the mention of Mia. “Everyone knows Mia for the bitch she is now, and sorry Josie, but no other way to say it. Mia’s a bitch.”

As much as it pained me to agree on this fact about a high school girl, I couldn’t help but do it. Though I decided to do it silently by not rebuking Amber for her language.

Amber kept speaking.

“But Mia was top dog and had been a long time before what happened with Con. And Sofie is really cute. Back then, all the guys were waking up to girls and they way woke up to Sofie. Mia didn’t like that.”

“Indeed,” I said, suspecting this to be very true.

“But it was more,’ Amber went on. “Mr. Harper was out of work and money was tight and Mia’s dad’s got a good job so they have a nice house and she had all the cool clothes and Sofie…” She shook her head. “Well, they didn’t have a lot and she wore that fact on her body. Mia made fun of her ‘cause she got her clothes at TJ Maxx and stuff. It sounds stupid. TJ Maxx stuff is great and I find a lot of cool things there. But that kind of thing, especially the way Mia and her girls ganged up on her, can really hurt.”

It most certainly could.

“Is that when she became shy?” I queried.

Amber screwed her mouth up for a moment, thinking on this, and then said, “She was always quiet but yeah. That’s when it got worse.”

“Does Conner know this?” I continued.

“He’s a grade ahead of her in school and a guy so I’m guessing he didn’t pay a lot of attention back then to how Mia targeted her prey and shredded them. If he did, he wouldn’t have asked Mia out. Con’s not big on that crap.”

This was also likely true.

“Anyway,” she carried on. “By then, it was ancient history, except for Sofie.”

“Hmm,” I mumbled, turning my attention back to the cart and moving it along, wondering how this information could be imparted not only on Conner so that he could revise his strategy, but on Alyssa so that she could see to her daughter’s state of mind.

Suddenly, something occurred to me and I stopped.

I looked back to Amber and asked quietly, “Did Mia bully you?”

She held my eyes, shook her head and said, “No. Seein’ as Con’s my brother and she always had her sights set on him like all the girls do. She knew she shouldn’t do that because we Spears might fight amongst ourselves but no one outside hands us any crap.”

At least this was good.

But…

“Did anyone else bully you?” I pressed gently.

“Kids can suck,” she said by way of affirmative.

“Honey,” I whispered, now understanding her attitude when we first met.

“It’s not like that anymore,” she told me, beginning to look uncomfortable.

I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable but I couldn’t quite leave the topic.

Not yet.

I had one more thing to say.

And I got close to say it, reaching out my hand to take hers and hold tight.

“If something like that ever happens again, or you have anything that’s preying on your mind that you wish to discuss, I’m here. If it’s a danger to you emotionally, I may need to speak with you about sharing it with your father. But if it’s girl things and you need to talk with someone who has moved beyond it and survived, please consider talking about it with me.”

She was staring into my eyes, hers looking somewhat startled but amidst that there was something profoundly beautiful in the way she was gazing at me. Something I was memorizing, it was just that precious. And as I was memorizing it, a voice we both knew very well came our way.

“Uh, can I talk to my daughter?”

I tensed.

Amber tensed.

And both of us looked to Donna.

Donna was looking at our clasped hands.

Oh dear.

I was deciding to drive the extra half an hour to the grocery store in Wells to avoid running into Donna when Donna shifted her gaze to me and asked, “Do you mind?”

“I don’t but it’s up to Amber,” I replied, my heart beating harder in my chest as I felt Amber’s hand curl tighter around mine.

“Nothing to say,” Amber put in and Donna looked to her daughter.

“Just two seconds, sweetie, please?” Donna asked.

“No,” Amber answered.

Donna sidled closer. “You aren’t taking my calls and I have something important to tell you.”

“I’m not taking your calls because I don’t need to,” Amber returned. “See, I figure, I haven’t had a mom in a long time, like, you know, she’s been dead or something. So, I figure, when Dad marries Josie, she can just adopt me legal-like and then I’ll get a real mom. You know, like I never had.”

This attack was so brutal, the blow landing full force, I could see the impact on Donna’s face.

Thus, I squeezed her hand and whispered, “Amber.”

She let me go, pushed in front of me and grabbed the cart, shoving it forward. “We gotta get this done or Eath is gonna have a tizzy. His breakfast probably wore off an hour ago.”

This was surely the truth but as much as I didn’t enjoy being in Donna’s company, or Amber being in it when she didn’t like it, I couldn’t leave it where it was.

“I think perhaps we should all go get a coffee,” I suggested.

Amber stopped and looked back at me, her face set, her eyes flashing. “No freaking way.”

“That’s okay,” Donna’s voice was a squeak and when I looked to her I knew this was due to her struggling to hold back her emotion. “I’ll, uh…I’ll just…” she trailed off, looking around and I knew she was going to flee.

Which meant then she was going to flee.

I turned my gaze to Amber. “Sweetheart, take care of the list. I’m going to have a word with your mother. I’ll meet you at the checkout.”

“Works for me,” Amber said readily and sauntered off, pushing the cart like she didn’t have a care in the world.

I looked back to Donna and invited, “Perhaps we should go outside.”

She stared at me and I knew she wanted to say no. But it was obvious she was so wounded she could do nothing but nod.

We moved outside the store and down the walk in front of it to be away from the doors.

Only then did I speak.

“Are you leaving Magdalene?” I asked.

She blinked.

“It is a small town, Donna,” I reminded her.

“I…well…Anderson offered me a raise to get me to stay but there’s a job in Boston that pays more and—”

I cut her off. “You cannot leave town.”

She stared at me.

“Jake doesn’t want you to leave,” I shared and her mouth dropped open. “He wants the mother of his children to be a mother to his children. Although it probably matters not to you, I don’t wish for you to leave either, for the same reason. Your children, alas, likely won’t let it show that they care one way or another. But I can assure you, what they let show and what they feel will not be the same things. You have essentially abandoned them. If you do this in an official capacity, it will wound them in a way they will never forget their whole lives and that way will be a way where it will never heal.”

“But she hates me,” Donna whispered.

“She has a right to that emotion,” I told her truthfully. “And you have the capacity to turn that emotion around. She’s angry and it will not be an easy fight. But it’ll be worth every blow she lands in order to succeed.”

She shook her head before she asked, “How do I even start to do that?”

“You start by taking that raise and not leaving town,” I answered. “Then you start by just starting.”

“People think—” she began.

“Your ex-husband runs a gentleman’s club to provide for his family,” I interrupted her to point out. “Do you think it matters what people think when it comes to your children?”

She shut her mouth.

“Call her and ask her if she’d like to go shopping. If she refuses, ask her to a movie. Call Conner and ask him to dinner and request he brings his sister. If they refuse, keep calling. Text to let them know you’re thinking of them. Ask them to spend the night at your house. Buy them things to bribe them into paying at least scant attention to you. It doesn’t matter what you do, what tactic you use, you’re fighting to win back your children. Do it. Use it. Grovel. Beg. Apologize. Show them every way you can think of that they mean something to you. I cannot guarantee that any of that will break through. The only thing I know is that they’re worth the effort.”

“Do you have kids of your own?” she asked and I couldn’t help but feel the sting of the question even though, from the look on her face, it wasn’t meant to bite.

“No.”

“Then how do you—?”

“Because my mother left me to a monster,” I told her bluntly and watched her eyes grow wide. “She saved herself and never looked back. I haven’t heard a word from her in thirty-five years. But I not only needed her to protect me from my father, I just needed her.”

She pressed her lips together and the way she did, I decided I’d done all I could do.

Therefore, I said, “The decision is yours. But I hope you make the right one. Have a lovely Sunday, Donna.”

I turned and started to walk away but I heard her call my name so I turned back.

Donna asked the instant I did, “Is Lucky Brand still her favorite store?”

Relief swept through me and I nodded, adding a, “Yes, Donna. It is. She also finds things she likes at Anthropologie. Further, she often finds things at Buckle.”

Donna nodded quickly.

I held her eyes and said with feeling, “Good luck, Donna.”

Her voice was hesitant and croaky when she replied, “Thank you, Josie.”

She gave me a wave I didn’t return for she’d turned and started walking away.

I found Amber standing in the checkout line.

The instant I stopped close, she asked, “Did you tell her to vanish?”

“No, my lovely, I did not,” I said gently.

“She doesn’t give a crap about us, Josie.”

“We shall see.”

She turned a set face to the line, doing it murmuring, “Yeah, we will.”

I sighed.

Amber was quiet all the way to Jake’s and after she helped me get the bags in, she went directly to and up the stairs, undoubtedly seeking the sanctuary of her room.

This meant she was calling one of the Taylors or Alexi, who was, according to boy Taylor, a good listener.

Alas, I also knew from boy Taylor that he was a good kisser.

I was glad to know the first.

I wished I did not know the last.

“What gives with that?” Jake asked from close to my back.

I turned and looked up at him. “Are the boys involved with the game?”

“Oh shit,” he said as his reply.

I put a hand to his chest. “Are the boys involved with the game, darling?”

“Yeah,” he answered, watching me closely.

“Then I’ll share in the kitchen.”

This I did while emptying a bag of Ruffles in a bowl and watching with some interest mingled with trepidation as Jake spooned an entire container of sour cream into another bowl before he emptied a packet of instant soup into it and stirred it to blend.

When I was done telling my tale of grocery store woe, he didn’t look happy, he didn’t look angry.

He just looked concerned.

“We gotta keep our eye on that,” he told me.

“Agreed,” I replied. Then to take his mind off this, I asked, “What’s in that bowl?”

His eyes came to me. “Onion dip.”

I pressed my lips together.

He grinned before saying, “You’re gonna love it, babe.”

“Is there anything you serve your children that isn’t mixed from an envelope, unearthed from a box or heated from a jar?”

“Yeah. When you cook.”

I rolled my eyes.

By the time I rolled them back, Jake had his fingers wrapped around the side of my neck and the bowl in his other hand.

“Ethan’s bitchin’, need to feed my boy,” he told me.

“Then let’s not delay in going to the family room so you can continue your quest to preserve your children’s bodies through chemicals.”

Jake burst out laughing.

I allowed myself a moment to watch, my lips curved up, then I grabbed the bowl of chips.

* * * * *

Jake’s arm around my belly gave me a squeeze as he nuzzled his face into the back of my hair.

I closed my eyes, stretching my arms out in front of me even as I pressed my hips back. In return, Jake shifted his hips upward, gliding his cock deeper inside me.

We’d both just come, Jake making love to me spooning. This was after Monday morning mayhem at his house, Jake going to the gym to open up, me taking Ethan to school, both of us returning in order to enjoy a mid-morning session in Jake’s bed.

His hand slid up and cupped my breast, his thumb stroking the side as he asked, “You gonna take a nap?”

“You aren’t?” I asked back.

“Got a guy comin’ in for training. Unfortunately, gotta hit it.”

“Mm,” I mumbled, settling further back into him.

“Jesus,” he growled, pressing deeper into me as his hand tightened at my breast. “You make leavin’ hard.”

“I suppose there are things to do,” I gave in.

“Yeah. And for me, one of them was my woman. Did that. Gotta get my ass in gear.”

I grinned at his words as Jake lifted up, kissed my shoulder and pulled gently out. Then he shifted in a way I knew what he wanted. So as he rolled back, I rolled toward him, lifted my head and looked into his eyes.

Now a deep blue.

Phenomenal.

I loved his eyes.

I loved his hair.

I loved the scar on his cheek.

I loved the power of his body.

I loved his warmth.

I loved the feel of him still between my legs.

I just loved him.

“Fuck,” he whispered and my thoughts moved from loving Jake Spear to the actual Jake lying in bed with me.

“What?” I whispered back.

His hand came up to cup my jaw and he answered, “You make leaving hard.”

“I wasn’t doing anything, Jake.”

“You were lookin’ at me thinkin’ somethin’, Slick, and whatever it was you were thinking makes leaving you hard.”

I drew in breath.

He lifted up, touched his mouth to mine and left it there, his eyes peering into mine when he said, “Lucky I know I get to come back.”

“Yes,” I said softly. “That makes me lucky too.”

His eyes smiled and it was warmer and deeper than his usual smile, which meant I enjoyed it more than I usually did before he brushed his nose against mine and moved away.

I watched him exit the bed and stroll to the bathroom, pulling up the sheet and informing his back, “I’m going to laze for a bit.”

“Have at it,” he called.

I had at it and was still where he left me when he came back, dressed in workout clothes. He put his hands in the bed, leaned deep and kissed me.

“I’ll see you tonight,” he said when he pulled away.

“You certainly will,” I replied.

Another smile in his eyes before he lifted up, kissed my temple and I watched him walk out of the room.

It was then I smiled to myself and curled my arms around his pillow.

Five minutes after that, I remembered I had a lunch date with Alyssa and I needed to get back to Lavender House to repack my bag as all the clothes I’d brought were dirty. There was also laundry to do. And I needed to make certain we had what we needed for dinner that night.

Which meant I needed to get a move on.

I pulled myself out of bed, gathered my clothes from the floor and went about getting ready to take on the day (again).

But when I was done and as I was walking to the stairs, something caught my eye.

I turned to look into Jake’s office and stopped dead.

On his desk was a framed photo of me.

I shook my head, staring at it.

I knew that photo. Henry had taken it several years ago. We were on the beach in Cannes. The photo shoot had been completed the day before. Henry had decided we were going to stay an extra couple of days to unwind. We’d been walking on the beach and Henry had been making me laugh.

It was a good memory, now a bittersweet one.

Why on earth did Jake have that photo?

I moved into the room, thoughts and questions overtaking my brain.

As Henry gave that photo to Gran, Gran must have given it to Jake.

But why?

And I had not been in Jake’s office frequently, but I’d been in it more than once and never saw that picture displayed. In fact, the top right drawer of his desk, which was never open, was now open.

Had the picture come from there?

And if it had, why did he keep it in a drawer?

I was thinking that maybe he forgot he had it for whatever reason Gran gave it to him. One of the many things she did regarding Jake the last seven years that I was unclear about but stopped concerning myself with for the end results could not be argued.

On that thought, I stopped dead as my throat closed when I saw the pile of envelopes bound by a blue ribbon sitting in the drawer.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, the words sounding strangled as I stared at those envelopes.

I knew what they were. I’d seen them on Gran’s desk often enough over the last twenty years.

And Jake had them in a drawer in his desk with a photo of me.

Why?

Why did he have them?

Gran had to have given them to him but why would she do that?

And why wouldn’t he tell me he had them?

Why?

I reached out a hand slowly and curled my fingers around the pile. Something vastly unpleasant washed through me as I encountered the paper and lifted them out of the drawer, thus proving they were real. They were there.

My whole history. My whole life.

In letters.

In Jake’s desk.

Gran hadn’t told Jake about me and Gran hadn’t given me to him in her will.

She’d already given me to him. Completely.

But she didn’t tell me.

And neither did he.

“Babe, forgot my wallet,” Jake called from close and I turned woodenly to face the door.

I saw him make the landing and I also saw him turn his head, see me, see what I held in my hand, and stop dead.

And I knew by the look on his face that the picture, those letters, they had not been something he’d forgotten he had and therefore forgot to tell me he had them.

No, they were something he was hiding.

Honest, real, lay-it-out Jake Spear who gave me everything had a secret he’d been keeping.

From me.

He started into the room, his eyes locked to mine, and began, “Slick—”

I lifted the letters slightly and cut him off to ask, “Did Gran give these to you?”

He stopped an unusual distance away, which was to say any distance at all, and responded very unsuitably.

“What were you doin’ in my desk, baby?”

“Did Gran give these to you?” I repeated.

He didn’t answer. He reiterated his question.

“What were you doin’ in that desk, Josie?”

“It was open. The picture out.” I moved to the side to expose the picture. “It caught my eye, as it would, seeing as it’s of me and it’s Gran’s and I didn’t know you had it.”

Jake looked from the picture to me. “The picture was out?”

“Jake,” I said steadily, although I didn’t know how I managed it since everything else about me was trembling. “The picture being out is not the issue. Did Gran give you that photo? These letters?” I lifted the letters up again.

His eyes again locked on mine and he finally answered, “Yes.”

My heart squeezed.

“Did you read them?” I asked.

“Baby—”

My voice was sharper when I asked, “Did you read them, Jake?”

“Yes.”

I looked down to the letters then up to him. “How many times?”

“Honey, it doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me,” I returned. “How many times?”

“You know Lydie told me about you,” he pointed out.

I kept hold of the letters but dropped my hand, agreeing, “I know she told you about me. Told you, Jake. I had no idea she shared my private letters with you. Why would she do that? And why would you read them?”

“Because she gave them to me.”

“But they were”—I leaned toward him—“private.”

He stared into my eyes but said nothing.

So I asked, “When did she give them to you?”

“A while ago.”

“How long of a while ago?”

He took a step toward me, saying, “Josie—”

But I stepped back.

He stopped and I snapped, “How long of a while ago?”

I saw his jaw clench before he answered, “Five, six years.”

I stared at him, my heart squeezing harder.

“Five or six years?” I whispered.

“Yeah, baby. Now—”

I lifted up the bundle again. “You’ve known this much about me, everything, laid bare to you by my own hand, through my grandmother’s betrayal for five or six years?”

His entire body got still as he said, “Lydie didn’t betray you.”

That was when it happened.

It broke.

Or I broke.

And I did this by throwing the bundle violently against the wall and shouting, “She fucking did!” He moved again to me but I retreated then skirted him and when he didn’t stop, I warned, “Jake, you get fucking near me, I swear to God, I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again.”

Instantly, he stopped.

In any other frame of mind, I would have found that unbearably sweet.

In my current frame of mind, I found it the same but not in a good way.

“Why didn’t Gran introduce you to me?” I asked.

“Josie, we went through this,” he told me.

“We did and it didn’t make sense. And you know what, Jake? None of it does. None of it ever did. She was tight with you, the kids. She loved you. She spent a lot of time with you. She opened her home to you. She opened her heart to you. She told you about her and she told you about me. She gave you everything. So how in God’s name have I not met you?”

“We can’t know why she did it now, honey. She’s gone.”

“No,” I agreed quickly. “We can’t. Just as we can’t know why she would meet a man and share not only all of her deepest darkest secrets but also mine.”

“Slick, just take a breath and—”

“I’m not going to take a fucking breath, Jake,” I bit out. “Do you not find that strange? Utterly bizarre? Why would anyone do that?”

“We can’t know—”

“I bet we can,” I hissed, leaning back and crossing my arms on my chest. “So, tell me, she gave you those letters, what did she say, Jake? ‘Here, take these. Some bedtime reading to put you to sleep.’ Is that what she said?”

Jake didn’t reply.

He didn’t reply.

Jake, who laid it all out about everything, didn’t reply.

Oh God, he was absolutely hiding something.

“She gave me to you before she gave me to you,” I told him something he well knew. “You had me in your house.” I motioned to the picture and then to the letters. “All of me. Every thought. Every secret. All of me that should be mine to give.”

“Would you have given it?” he asked gently.

“I would have liked to have had the option,” I shot back.

“Would you have given it, Josie?” he pressed, still going gently.

“Maybe not,” I conceded sharply. “But even so, if she had some grand scheme, as she had to have had seeing as the evidence is clear.” I swiped the room with my arm. “Perhaps you could have shared it with me as she obviously shared it with you. Doing this, I don’t know, maybe one of the times I wondered out loud why on earth she did the things she did. Telling me, I don’t know, just how much you actually knew about me and that you had everything.”

“Babe, it happened and we are where we are now. Why does it matter?”

That was the wrong answer.

“Because I’m asking questions I think are important and the only person in this room who has the answers isn’t giving them to me,” I retorted.

He said nothing.

Nothing.

Just held my eyes and said nothing.

Why?

“Why won’t you tell me?” I asked.

“Because it doesn’t matter,” he answered.

“It does to me.”

He again said nothing.

And, again, why?

“You’re keeping something from me,” I whispered.

“Baby, you got all of me.”

“No, you have all of me,” I returned. “There’s something of you that you’re keeping from me.”

“Can we please let this go and move on?” he requested.

“Whether you agree or not, Jake, the extent of her sharing meant my grandmother betrayed me,” I informed him. “To you. And in the time we’ve spent together, the things we’ve shared, you not telling me the extent of it is, by extension, a betrayal too. So, no. We can’t move on from this until you explain to me what precisely you and Gran had been up to in regards to me for the last five or six years.”

“What matters to you is important to me, honey. Straight up, bottom of my heart, it is. Believe that. But I gotta tell you, it’s important to me that you let this go.”

“How would you feel, someone you didn’t know knew every word written on your soul for years and then they become important to you and they don’t share that with you and won’t tell you why? How would that make you feel, Jake?”

“I’ll say what you have to know, that both Lydie and I had your best interests at heart.”

“Really?” I asked, throwing out my arms. “Because if you did, I would have met you five or six years ago instead of you and your children being kept from me.”

At that, he flinched.

Oh God.

Why?

“Jake—”

“Let it go.”

“Jake!”

“God damn it!” he suddenly shouted, leaned into me and roared, “Fuckin’ let it go!”

I took a step back.

Jake scowled at me.

“You know when my father threw my diary at me and gave me a black eye,” I whispered.

“Let it go, babe,” he ground out.

“You know when I got my period.”

“Let it go.”

“You know when I lost my virginity.”

“Jesus, fuckin’ let…it…go.”

“You got to share your life with me in your truck. Over dinner. In bed. I didn’t get that luxury, Jake. Why?”

“Josie, for fuck’s sake—”

“Why?” I shrieked.

“Let it go!” he thundered back.

“No,” I whispered and watched him wince even as his jaw got hard. “Tell me, Jake.”

“No,” he returned.

We stood there, silent, staring at each other and we did this a long time.

It was me who broke the silence.

“How can this be?”

Jake didn’t respond so I kept on.

“How is it that we were as close as two people could get half an hour ago and now we’re done?”

I watched Jake’s body jerk. “We’re not done.”

I didn’t reply to that.

I asked, “How could she do this to me?”

“She didn’t do anything to you, Josie, except give you your dream.”

Oh yes.

He’d know about that too.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Own her, no,” he’d said at the reading of the will. “Do precisely what Lydie wanted me to do with her, yes.”

Yes, he knew exactly.

“I know you’d know that,” I said quietly, my voice awful and I knew Jake heard it because his jaw again went hard but his eyes went warm and alarmed. “I know you’ve read that. You know what I don’t know?”

He didn’t answer.

So I kept speaking.

“What the foundation of my love for a man is based on. And I don’t know that because he won’t tell me.”

His face changed, softened and he said, “You love me.”

“Yes,” I confirmed.

His face softened more and his voice was utterly beautiful when he went on, “Baby, I love you too.”

“Not enough.”

His body again jerked.

I walked out of the room.

Jake followed me.

I went directly to my bag and when he put a hand on my arm, I yanked it free and took a step back.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Josie, dammit—”

“I’ll ask that I can speak to the kids at some point to explain why I have to sell Lavender House and leave.”

He took a step toward me, his body alert, his eyes back to alarmed. “What the fuck?”

“We’re done.”

“We are not done.”

“We are, Jake.”

“We fuckin’ aren’t, Josie.”

I locked eyes with him and declared, “We very much are.”

“Jesus, do not do this shit. Trust me, it’s not worth it.”

“I think it’s me who gets to make that determination and as I don’t have all the facts, I can’t make it. I can only make a decision. And I’m doing that.”

“You’re throwing away everything for nothing.”

“Again, I can’t know that.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms on his chest. “Fuck, you’re stubborn.”

I moved to my bag and hefted it up, settling the strap on my shoulder.

I then squared off with him again.

“Do not mistake this for a tiff. This is not a tiff. This isn’t something you can bide your time and wear me down to coming around to your way of thinking. This is it.”

He shook his head, studying me closely.

“I don’t understand if it’s gettin’ too real for you, you’re lookin’ for reasons to put your disguise back on so you don’t have to live your life and if that’s the case, the question would be why. Why, when we got somethin’ this good, would you walk away for somethin’ that means nothing?”

“If you need to ask that question then you didn’t pay very much attention to the letter where I told Gran about my dream,” I replied and I walked away.

I did not cry. Not when I grabbed my purse and coat and hurried out to the garage.

I did not cry when I took the opener Jake gave me and put it on the workbench.

I did not cry on the drive back to Lavender House. Nor did I cry when I called the locksmith to have him come and change the locks and do it with urgency.

I only cried once that was all done, I was locked in and up in the light room.

I didn’t feel safe there. Not anymore.

I wasn’t safe anywhere, since Gran had betrayed me.

But it was as good a place as any.

* * * * *

That afternoon, Jake stopped at the door to Ethan’s room and looked in at his son who had a controller in his hand and was playing some video game on his Xbox.

“Yo,” Jake called.

“Yo, Dad,” Ethan answered, not looking away from the TV.

“Bud, I got a question,” Jake told him.

“Yeah?”

Jake took in a deep breath and asked, “You been in my office?”

“What?”

“My office, Eath. You get in my desk?”

That got him a glance from his son that included a proud grin before he looked back to his game and answered, “Yeah. Totally. Picked the lock with one of Amber’s bobby pin thingies. It was awesome. Bryant’s been tryin’ to pick locks for ages and he hasn’t got close. I win.” He gave his father another brief glance before he stated, “That picture of Josie is cool. You should put it in the living room.”

Jake took in another calming breath.

It wasn’t his son that fucked up. It was him that fucked up.

Even so.

“Bud, pause the game a sec, yeah?”

Ethan must have registered his tone because he didn’t delay in pausing the game and looking to his dad.

“Just need you to know somethin’,” Jake said quietly. “We got a lot of people in this house and Amber, Con or me, we might have things that we want to keep private. One day, you might have things like that too. You gotta respect that, Eath, because it’s the right thing to do and because you’ll want that returned to you.”

Ethan’s face had changed in a way Jake didn’t like and he’d know why when Eath asked, “Did I screw up?”

“No,” Jake lied.

Then again, Ethan didn’t screw up.

Jake did.

Ethan’s face was even worse when he asked, “Is what I did why Josie didn’t pick me up from school today?”

“No, bud,” Jake said firmly.

Another lie.

Fuck.

“Just want you to be cool about that kind of thing,” he went on. “You get me?”

“Yeah, Dad.”

“Thanks, Eath,” Jake muttered. “You can go back to your game,” he told him before turning to walk away.

Ethan caught him by calling his name and Jake turned back.

“Where is Josie?” he asked, watching his father closely.

“She’s got some shit to do.” Probably not a lie. “She’ll be back, son.” Fuck, he hoped that wasn’t a lie.