by Jenni James
“What if my aunt and uncle are right and I’m this horrible person who doesn’t deserve anything? And you guys have me stay there a little bit, and then the truth comes out and you realize they were right?”
He sighed and gave a sad chuckle. “Indy, stop. I have no doubt in my mind that you’re kind and caring and loving. The more I learn, the more I see, the better you become.” He tugged on my hand and pulled me into him, wrapping the blanket more fully around us.
“Can I think it over for a few days before I decide?” I asked.
Those dark eyes probed. “Can I talk to my dad and let him know what’s happening?”
“I . . . okay. I guess so.”
“Hey, don’t look like that.” I had no idea what I looked like, but I loved that he snuggled me into him. He was so warm and strong and perfect. “I promise you, everything will be okay. You’re going to be safe.”
I nodded. “Uncle David was so mad at me. I shouldn’t have said it. I should’ve just taken it.”
“What are you talking about? You think it would’ve been better to hear lies about your mom?”
“No. But nothing I said changed their minds.” I rested my head against his chest. “It wasn’t worth it to defend her to people who never knew her.”
“You shouldn’t have to defend her at all.”
“No. You’re right.”
He went quiet again for a few minutes and then said, “I really don’t feel good about leaving you here tonight.”
“You don’t?”
I could hear his heartrate increase. It was fascinating. “No. I’d feel much better if you came home with me. Tomorrow, we can let my dad talk to your aunt and uncle, and we’ll go from there.”
“Do you think I’m in danger here?”
“I don’t know. But every time I think of getting up and leaving you, something tells me not to. And it’s beyond the normal ‘I want-to-be-with-her-every-second’feeling. This one has a tinge of fear in it. Something urgent, telling me to protect you.”
“My mom?” I whispered. I knew it was weird as soon as I said it, but to me, it made sense. I didn’t want to explain it to anyone else, but I knew that if David and Clarise had been abusing me, she would’ve been begging anyone to get me out of this house.
“Maybe. It’s definitely intense enough to be from the other side—someone who loves and cares for you.”
I think I died. Right then, my heart flipped for the hundredth time since knowing Bryant, and it settled warmly in my chest. He didn’t mock the odd side of me, and that made him worth keeping forever. I moved back and melted into the most perfect guy I’d ever known.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:
After a bit more useless arguing on my part, Bryant finally agreed to call his dad and get his opinion first. I hung out in the den while he went into the bedroom and made the late-night phone call. We decided on the bedroom for soundproofing reasons, and I opted to stay out in the den while I tried to make sense of my life.
How bad was it, really? Was Bryant right? Was I actually in the middle of some emotionally abusive junk? Is that why I’d had thoughts of suicide, because my family wasn’t capable of holding and loving a little girl in mourning?
I’d never even gotten so much as a hug from my aunt. And it wasn’t until that moment that reality hit me. I imagined being given a very scared, lost little ten-year-old girl and then placing her in a cold, creepy basement, never including her, teaching her not to question it. Telling her daily she didn’t deserve it.
I wrapped Grandma’s blanket around me and curled up into the side of the couch. I missed my mom. And it was times like this when I really wished she were there to tell me what to do.
I must’ve dozed because the next thing I knew, Bryant was gently rousing me.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty. I talked to my dad.”
I blinked. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep.”
He grinned. “You’ve been through a lot today. I bet you’re exhausted.”
“No, no. I’m fine,” I lied through a huge yawn. “So, what did your dad say?”
“Well, after I told him everything, he was as concerned as I thought he’d be. He’s also very relieved you allowed me to tell him.” Bryant knelt down in front of the couch. “What I didn’t realize, though, is that now my dad knows what’s happened here, he’s legally obligated to turn this over to Child Protective Services.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, he could actually lose his license if he doesn’t. But the good thing is, you won’t have to be here anymore. This isn’t healthy. My dad is going to help you get into a healthier place both physically and mentally.”
All at once, I felt like I was on some reality TV show and had been taken away from everything I knew. But this was my life, and honestly, I couldn’t believe it was bad enough that the state had to be called on my aunt and uncle. It wasn’t like they beat me or something. “This is so weird.”
“I know. I’m sorry. And I promise, no one at school needs to know anything. We’ll keep it private.”
School? I groaned when I thought about seeing my cousins. “I don’t know. I can’t do this. Jayda and Kaitlyn are going to flip.”
“This isn’t about them anymore. It’s about you.”
I took a deep breath.
“By the way, my dad says he has no problem letting you to stay with us. He’s completely certified to take in foster kids, and fostering you would be a real honor.”
“He said all that?”
“Yep.” He shifted to his knees. “Now, the real issue—what to do with you. My dad said that as a professional, understanding the situation as he does—since he trusts me—he feels the same way I do. You’re not safe. And you need to come home with us tonight.”
I shook my head. It was all too much. “I don’t think they’ll hit me or anything.”
Bryant took a deep breath. “No, but they might lock you in your room or something.”
I thought of all the times I’d been locked in that very room. Sometimes days at a time during the summer, only to be let out for bathroom breaks. I softly gulped. “So, is locking someone in their room abuse?”
Bryant’s eyebrows rose. “Right. You’ve said enough.” He pulled me up. “I’m getting the bags. You grab whatever stuff you need, and I’ll meet you by the side door. We’re leaving now.”
“Wait. You didn’t answer me.”
“I didn’t need to. If they’ve locked you in your room for being a normal kid, what will they do now? Tomorrow morning won’t be pretty. If you don’t come home with me tonight, I’ll be staying down here in the basement to escort you to school.”
“No way. Clarise would lose her mind. She’d call the cops and everything.”
He smirked. “Bring the cops. I’d love to tell them everything I know.”
Bryant Bailey had to be the hottest guy I’d ever known. Or would ever meet. “Aren’t you afraid of the cops?”
“I’m positive that what I have against her is way more than anything she’d say against me.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “Anyway, this is ridiculous because you’re coming with me.”
A new fear began to grow inside me. Not of Bryant or his family—I knew they were right—but more of the reality that things would never be the same again. And I had no idea what to expect. Which I guess was why I balked at the idea to begin with—I wasn’t ready for change. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. Sometimes, you need to close your eyes and leap.
Without saying a word, I walked past Bryant and into the small downstairs bathroom. I grabbed my towel, robe, and toothbrush, and then I pulled out the makeup bag under the sink and filled it full of all my toiletries. Afterward, I took a really long look at the girl in the mirror staring back at me.
She was tired, but hopeful, and I was surprised to find a little bit of sparkle in her eyes. As if I was actually more excited than I realized. One thing was for certain—it sure beat feeling like I was all alone again.
I tilted my head to the side and said, “You’ve got this.” My eyes grew watery and it was hard to see myself, but I took another deep breath. “It’s time. This is about you. It isn’t about them anymore.”
And then, before I lost my nerve, I followed a fully loaded Bryant up the stairs and out the door toward his waiting car.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:
“Welcome, Indy!” Dr. Bailey greeted me as I came through the front door of Bryant’s huge house. He was a tall, handsome man, clean shaven with dark hair like Bryant’s, but graying at the temples. His smile was large and exposed two dimples. He wore jeans, socks, and a T-shirt. It looked like I hadn’t woken him up with my nonsense, and I was grateful for that.
“Thank you.” I smiled shyly at him and then turned to Bryant and whispered, “You didn’t tell me you lived in a castle.” I was pretty sure we were walking on marble tiles. The whole expanse of the entryway into a large room with a swooping staircase was done in ornate swirled tiles.
He chuckled. “It’s big, but it isn’t that big, thank goodness.”
“I won’t bother you two,” Dr. Bailey interrupted. He said to Bryant, “I’ll let you show her around. Stick to the main part of the house or she may get a little confused at first.”
“Lost. The word you’re looking for is lost,” Bryant said.
“Yeah, well, keep her close. Go ahead and put her in the guest bedroom across from yours for the next week or so.” He turned to me. “I want you to feel as comfortable as you can, so I hope you don’t mind being close to him—he is a boy, and you know they stink sometimes.”
“Dad!”
I laughed when Dr. Bailey wiggled his eyebrows and said, “In a while, when you’re ready, I’ll move you to the girls’ wing of the house. There are a few guest bedrooms over there for you to choose from. Bryant will help you get settled. I have a feeling it’s going to be a lengthy day tomorrow.”
“Sorry,” Bryant whispered as we headed up the stairs and down a long wide hallway. “I don’t usually tell people about my house. They tend to freak, or beg to throw parties here, which would never happen. It was my mom’s thing. She’d always loved the houses in Europe. She went to a few universities over there, and so when my dad married her, his dream was to surprise her with a house like that of her own. And as you can see, they were both quite happy.”
I lost count of the small sofas and random fancy high-backed chairs along the way. “Why do you guys have so many places to sit? Do you use them?”
Bryant looked around and laughed. “I don’t know why. We hardly ever sit on them. I’d forgotten they were there until you mentioned it. I think it’s more of a European decorating thing.”
We passed a few closed doors and some incredible artwork before Bryant stopped in front of a dark carved door. “Here we are.” He opened it, and I tried to keep my cool by not gasping.
The room had a large four-poster canopy bed with a thick comforter and a dozen fun accent pillows in blue and green. There was a pretty white dresser and green-and-blue floral curtains, a rug, and another door that led to a beautiful bathroom. “Um, I think this room is a little too nice.” I felt bad even sleeping in it. It looked like it belonged on a movie set.
Bryant chuckled. “Nah, that’s just my mom. She loved detail, especially when it came to the guest bedrooms.” He dropped my bags on the floor near the nightstand by the bed. “I’ll show you my room, and you’ll see what I mean.”
We walked across the hall into a bedroom that was nearly twice the size of mine. It too had a four-poster bed, but that’s where the similarities ended. Bryant had opted for a dark-blue comforter.
“I love the pictures on your wall.” I walked in and studied some of the abstract modern art he had up. I looked closer. “These are originals. How fun!” They were brightly painted with splashes of different colors. They created shapes with no pattern or consistency, just something fascinating to look at.
“Thanks. My mom bought them from a friend when she was overseas. They never really matched her décor, but I loved them, so she let me put them up here in my room.” He turned around and pointed to a few more behind us. “There are six paintings altogether.”
“So your mom’s family had a lot of money?” I winced as soon as it came out of my mouth. “Never mind. Scratch that.”
“No, it’s okay. My dad makes money as a psychiatrist, but not this much. My parents both come from influential families in Scottsdale, but they wanted to escape the heat of both family life and the valley and came up here to settle.” He crumpled up some trash that was on his bed and threw it at a mini basketball hoop attached to his wall. Two of the three papers made it into the waiting trash can below. The other one bounced off the rim and onto the floor. “We have family here all the time. Mom knew we would—especially during the summer, when it’s much cooler up here. When they were designing the house, my parents added enough room for both their families to come. It’s only about seven guest bedrooms, but it does seem to add up. Plus the fact that there are another five bedrooms just for me, my sisters, and Dad, and the study, parlors, library—er, it’s a bit much, I know. But you get used to it after a while.”
“Wow.” Clarise would kill for this house.
On the drive here, I’d almost fallen asleep, but now, I was too wound up even to think about hitting my pillow. It was nice to be welcomed into this extraordinary place, but I still couldn’t stop feeling uneasy as I wondered what was going to happen tomorrow. I watched as Bryant continued to clean up his room by using his basketball hoop. I had to admit it was pretty genius.
“So, what do you think Clarise will do when she realizes I’m not there?”
Bryant stopped shooting hoops. “Are you worried? You’re probably sick to death, aren’t you?”
“I’m a little queasy—yeah. Just anxiety and . . . hoping I did the right thing, I guess.” I should have gone to my room and let him get to bed, but I didn’t want to be alone just yet.
“I’m sorry.” He grabbed a few books from his dresser and started heading toward my room. “I promise, you did the right thing by coming here. I wish my house was more normal and more comfortable for you. At least you’re with friends now—and it helps me to know you’re safe.”
He talked to me through the door while I used the bathroom to change into my pajamas, brush my teeth, and wash my face, and then he helped dump a ton of pillows from the bed as I crawled under the thick covers. “Hey. You’re gonna be okay. I can’t imagine what’s going on in your mind right now, but we’ll figure this out together.”
I reached up and grabbed his hand. “Thank you.”
Bryant searched my eyes and then whispered, “How did I get lucky enough to find you?”
I rolled my eyes and grinned—only because I knew I was about to ruin the moment. “You killed my cat.”
He looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. “I will never live it down—ever.”
“Nope.”
“Is it okay to want to kiss a friend who’s in bed, or is that a bit creepy?”
“The friend you just rescued from her abusive home, who’s now staying in the room across from you? Yeah, it’s a tad creepy. This is more the time to bring up things like security, safety—things that won’t create butterflies.”
He leaned over. “So you’re saying my kisses would give you butterflies?”
I giggled, unclasped my hand from his, and pushed against his mouth as he lowered it toward me. “Go away, Bryant. I already snuggled with you earlier today. You don’t even want me as a girlfriend, so you have no one to blame but yourself.”
He kissed my palm, and a million crazy tingles shot from my hand to my elbow. “Fine. I see how it is. Reject the guy who saved you.” He pouted, turned around, and started to walk away.
“I don’t care how slow you walk—you’re not getting kisses from me while I’m in this bed. It’s weird.”
He turned around and grinned. “So, are you saying I can kiss you other rooms in the house?
”
Good grief. “Go to sleep, Bryant. If you’re lucky, I won’t murder you in your sleep, and you’ll actually wake up tomorrow.”
“You would never hurt this face. I’m much too good-looking. You need this face. The world needs this face.”
I laughed. “And don’t forget to close the door on your way out.”
“You’re never going to let up, are you?”
“Somebody has to put you in your place!”
He laughed and whispered, “I love you.” Then he shut the door.
My heart started to beat frantically, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep Maxton’s face in my mind. Instead, this dark-haired, dark-eyed, monstrously good-looking prince kept coming into focus. He loved me. After all these years, it felt incredibly wonderful to be loved again.
I curled up in the luxurious covers and dreamed of life and new beginnings.
CHAPTER NINETEEN:
“What do you mean, the state has ordered Indy back to her aunt’s house? I won’t allow it! I don’t care who the legal guardian is—she’s sixteen years old, and able to choose for herself where to be interviewed.”
I clenched my hands in Dr. Bailey’s study and watched as he paced the floor, talking to the police officer on the phone. His brown leather shoes matched the leather of the furniture and the stained bookshelves.
“I don’t care if they have ten lawyers and want to have all interviews done at their house. It’s illegal, and you know it!”
Bryant walked over to the chair where I sat and squeezed my hand.
“It’s going to be okay. The cops are just trying to please everyone, but Dad knows the law. He won’t let your aunt and uncle get away with anything illegal.”
“You and I both recognize you don’t have the rights to pick up this girl and take her there. She wants all the interviews to be held at Child Protective Services. This is a stupid ploy to stall, and it’s wasting valuable time. I’m calling the case manager back, and we’ll come to an agreement. As her doctor, I assure you that no matter where the private interview is held, nothing will change. And for the moment, she has chosen to live here.”
