Your Hand in Mine (Blackbird Series Book 2)

by Lily Foster

  “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “It’s not as bad as I’m making it sound.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “Leo…”

  “Drive to the house.”

  “No!”

  “I mean my house. You’re staying there tonight and then we’ll get your situation sorted out tomorrow.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “Stop.” I have no patience for her Miss Independence routine right now. “Sometimes you do need help, Sky. We all do. Now please, let’s go. Olivia’s still awake and she’s acting like a maniac. I have to get her to bed.”

  Her eyes nearly bug out of her head as she puts the car into drive. “You left her there alone?”

  “No, Max is there.”

  Shit…Max and a few other people.

  Part Four

  All That Heaven Will Allow

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Skylar

  Wetting my pants in third grade when the substitute teacher wouldn’t let me use the bathroom? Getting caught by my pastor trying to buy cigarettes when I was fifteen? Filing a police report on my father with more than a few of my neighbors working in the precinct? Not one of those incidents compares to this.

  I am mortified.

  I feel like I’m going to be sick following Leo into the house. He fixes me with a look I can’t read as he ushers me inside and then tosses my bag behind the couch.

  That duffel bag, the one that now holds all my worldly possessions, made a pretty decent body pillow this week. For a moment he stares at the spot where it lands with a thump before turning back to me.

  I don’t want to face him, don’t want to face Max, and I don’t want to see Olivia for fear that I’ll upset her once she sees the state I’m in.

  “Hi!”

  Instead I’m greeted by a girl who looks to be around my age. Long blonde hair, glowing skin, stylishly dressed in a snug cropped sweater over high-waisted shorts. I look down to the floor, mentally comparing my tear-stained face and bargain bin clothing to hers, only to see the gold Tory Burch emblem on her sandals and her shiny red pedicure.

  “Um, Skylar, this is Lexi. She came by with Max and his girlfriend.”

  Lexi the lawyer. Right.

  “Skylar?” Her smile is over the top enthusiastic. I’m more hurt than confused, but still, I am wondering why she’s looking at me like we’re long lost friends or something. “You’re Olivia’s babysitter!”

  I bite my lip and nod, still trying to absorb the impact from this blow.

  “She adores you.”

  Lexi is putting out the whole I’m looking to make friends thing, but there’s a condescending bite to the way she delivers her words. Or maybe it’s the look in her eyes. Or—deep breath—maybe she is being nice and I’m just being a sore loser and a bitch.

  Leo looks hella uncomfortable. He opens his mouth to say something right as Olivia lets out a high-pitched wail. I start walking in the direction of the back door but Leo stops me. “I’ve got her.” Glancing in Lexi’s direction and then back to me he says, “Wait here,” like it’s an order.

  He’s walking back through the kitchen a moment later with a screaming Olivia over his shoulder, and her shrill cries only get louder when she catches sight of me. “Skylar!”

  “It’s all right, sweetie. Get some sleep and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Noooo!” she protests, the sound echoing off the walls and then finally fading as he closes the upstairs bathroom door behind them.

  “You look like you’ve had a rough night.” Lexi is leaning a hip against the kitchen counter, studying me. She takes a sip from her bottle and then snaps out of it, giggling and shaking her head like she’s just had some epiphany. “I’m sorry. Do you want a beer?” She opens the refrigerator like she’s familiar with this kitchen, like she’s a frequent guest. Turning back to me, she smiles when she asks, “Wait, are you even legal?”

  “Is there any reason you’re talking to me like I’m a child?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.” Sure you didn’t. “I just figured you’re the babysitter, so you know…Anyway,” she chirps, ”how old are you?”

  “Same age as you, I’m guessing. Maybe a year younger. Did you just finish your first year of law school or what?”

  “How do you know I’m in law school?”

  “Leo told me about your date. He said you were a lawyer, but I think he got that part wrong. You don’t look old enough.”

  She takes the beer she was planning to give me and opens it for herself. “I’m going into my second year.” She smiles and breathes in deep before asking, “He told you about our date?” and without waiting for an answer she adds, “That’s interesting.”

  I smile. “Not according to him.”

  And I hate myself in that moment. Hate that I’m being unkind to a stranger who’s never truly wronged me. Hate that I am so envious of this girl. But tonight has been an absolute clusterfuck, and walking into this? A cozy double date? Maybe I should be grateful to this girl instead of hating on her. Maybe this will serve as the final slap in the face that I sorely need.

  Max and his babe join us in the kitchen. Max looks curious and downright wary when he greets me. “Skylar…Everything all right?”

  “Peachy.” I just don’t have it in me to be civil to anyone right now.

  The other one holds out her hand. “I’m Nadia.”

  And I proceed to shake it like we’re in a business meeting. “I’m Skylar.”

  Can this night get any more absurd?

  I want to kill Leo right now for basically walking me into this nightmare. I’m shifting on my feet, feeling like a fool and dressed like I’m about to play hopscotch with Libs, while surrounded by two girls who are dressed for sex—I mean success—and basically look like they have their shit together.

  I want out of here. I look to the spot on the counter where I usually drop my car keys and see that they’re gone. I’m going to kill him.

  It’s like a four-way stare down for what feels like an eternity until Leo comes back. I shoot him a look that’s meant to be interpreted as: I’d like to claw your eyes out right now.

  “She finally went down?”

  He answers Max, “Yeah, she’s good,” while his eyes stay fixed on me. And he has the nerve to look as pissed off as I do.

  That’s right, I forgot. I ruined his date, didn’t I? Skylar Perillo, cockblocker extraordinaire. That’s me.

  My attention turns to Nadia when she pipes up and says, “They say parenting is the hardest job in the world.”

  To which Lexi lends her expert commentary, “But it’s the most rewarding, too.”

  All eyes are on me now.

  Jeez, did I just snort or something? Laugh out loud at that ridiculous scripted nonsense? I’m thinking maybe I did. Oops.

  “I’m heading out.” I hold out my palm because I’m pretty sure Leo took my keys off the counter and pocketed them so I wouldn’t run. “I can handle that situation on my own. Enjoy your night.”

  I’d rather sleep outdoors naked in February than subject myself to one more second of this.

  He shakes his head and grabs my wrist. “You’re not going anywhere.” Looking to Max he says, “Thanks for stopping in but I need to call it a night. Want me to call a car service for you guys?”

  “No need. Nadia’s taking one for the team tonight.”

  She raises her glass. “I switched to water a while ago.”

  I stand there like an unwanted stepchild as the small talk goes on, complete with Max suggesting the four of them grab dinner one night next week.

  Leo is corralling them out the door when Lexi turns to him and says, “Thanks for having me.” She leans in and kisses his cheek, and while it doesn’t look like he was expecting it, I notice he doesn’t pull away either. She glances at me before smiling at Leo. “Next time I’m hoping we’ll have more time to talk.”

  He doesn’t respond directly, just says, “
Have a good night,” as he’s closing the door.

  Leo turns and leans back against the door. He’s pinching the bridge of his nose, asking God for patience or looking for a Hail Mary, for the best way to pave over this irreparable stretch of road.

  I don’t want the sorry that’s coming, the one that’s sitting on the tip of his tongue right now. I don’t want his cheap excuses.

  Why do I even want him? That’s what I’m asking myself as I grab a beer from the refrigerator. Really, why would I want a guy like Leo? I open the same drawer Lexi did a few minutes ago and fish out the bottle opener. Yeah, she even knows where he keeps the kitchen utensils.

  I sit down, take a long pull from the bottle and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I don’t care about table manners right now. I don’t care what I look like or what he thinks of me. In fact, I hope my life choices, my background and I everything I am disgust and repel him.

  He goes to speak but I stop him. “Go to bed, Leo.” A full minute passes with him standing his ground, so I change tack and ask him nicely, because seriously, I’m about ten seconds away from crying and beating on his chest the same way Olivia was before. “Please, I can’t do this right now.” My words come out wobbly and choked. I turn and give him my back knowing the tears are coming with or without my permission. I take another sip of my beer, then another.

  I rest my head on the kitchen table to hide my face. I hear him fill a glass from the tap and then put it on the table next to me. He’s close, I can sense it, and just the proximity of him hurts.

  When he moves closer, rests his hand on my shoulder and squeezes, I can’t help but break down. And I know without looking in the mirror that it’s an ugly cry. One where your body shakes, your nose runs and your eyes swell. He keeps rubbing his hand over my shoulders and my back. I want him to stop but I don’t want him to.

  A good five minutes must pass before I stop crying, before I notice the dishtowel he laid on the table and use it to wipe my face. I think he’s gone, that he did what I asked and left me, but then I see him in the living room making up the couch with a sheet and a blanket.

  “I can’t stay here.”

  Without looking my way, he answers back, “Yeah…You can.”

  I watch him walk back upstairs. I always watch, always take note of the way his large frame fills that narrow space. But tonight his shoulders are slumped in defeat.

  He pauses on the stairs but doesn’t turn around when he says, “Get a good night’s sleep, Sky, and please don’t run off. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  Please don’t run off.

  As if I have anywhere to go.

  I wait until I hear his bedroom door close before I make my way over to the couch and put my head down on the pillow he laid out for me. I nestle into it and breathe it in even though it hurts.

  It smells like him.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Leo

  “Sky is downstairs sleeping on the couch. We have to be super quiet so we don’t wake her up.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she doesn’t feel good. She needs to sleep.”

  Olivia’s eyes go wide. “She’s sick?”

  “She just needs to get a good rest.” I prod her along as I dress her. “Let’s go. Maureen is having you over for pancakes while I get some work done, and then you can come back and see Sky after she wakes up.”

  She side-eyes me, already knows when she’s being fed a line of bull and she hasn’t even turned five. It’s scary.

  “Chocolate chip pancakes?”

  “Knowing Maureen, it’ll be chocolate chip pancakes with some licorice bites and gummy worms thrown in for good measure.”

  “Eww, that sounds yucky.”

  “Yeah, that does sound gross.”

  I give Olivia one more shh before picking her up, opening her bedroom door and tip toeing down the stairs. Skylar shifts, rolls over in that tight space, but thankfully she doesn’t wake up.

  I drop Olivia off and then head right back. I was kind of shocked to see that Sky was still here when I woke up at four and peeked downstairs. I don’t want to give her a chance to run. We’ve been circling around this same bullshit for weeks now, and I’m pretty sure that if she leaves now, I won’t ever get her back.

  I’ve only been gone for a few minutes, five tops, but the couch is empty with the sheet, blanket and pillow stacked in a neat pile next to it on the floor. I let out a relieved breath when I hear the water turn on upstairs and then the shower.

  She stops halfway down the stairs and tenses when she sees me in the kitchen making breakfast a few minutes later.

  “Did you get a good sleep?”

  I busy myself with what’s on the stove but look over quick. Before she can turn away I catch sight of her face, see her puffy eyes, the mottled red of her usually perfect skin.

  “Slept like the dead. Thanks.”

  When I see her stuffing her clothes from the night before back into her bag and zipping it up, I turn the burner off. Breakfast can wait.

  Gesturing to her bag, I ask, “Did you take everything from the apartment?”

  “All of my clothes. I left some of my books, maybe a few pairs of shoes. I’ll go back and get them after I find another place.” She pauses then adds, “I have an appointment with a realtor this afternoon.”

  “I’ll take you to get your stuff now.”

  I choose not to call her out on the lie. There’s no realtor showing her apartments today. No one is renting her an apartment for the six weeks she has left until she moves back into her free campus housing.

  “I’ll go there myself.”

  “No.” She turns, startled by my tone. “I’m taking you and we’re getting back every cent you paid that girl right now.”

  I’m expecting her usual, for her to fight me back, or in the very least, to call me a grump and tell me to kiss off. But she does none of that. She nods her head, looking so damn tired and defeated, then asks me to wait while she puts on some make-up. I nod, confused for a second because she never wears much on her face, but then realize she wants to hide the fact that she’s probably been up crying half the night.

  When we pull up outside she says, “Wait here.”

  “I don’t feel comfortable with that.” This place is an absolute disgrace. An eyesore on a block where maybe the houses aren’t upscale, but it’s obvious that the neighbors are house proud. I already hate this girl Holly. “I won’t make a scene. I promise.”

  Again, no words of protest. She lets herself out of my car and I follow her, kicking trash out of my way as I take the front stairs up to the porch. She doesn’t even need a key to open the front door. Great, anyone can just walk in.

  There’s a guy sleeping on the couch, complete with one hand shoved inside his boxers, and a girl sprawled out on a recliner wearing an oversized shirt with nothing on underneath. I know this because she’s sleeping on her side and one entire ass cheek is exposed. Half-empty takeout containers, beer bottles and bongs litter every surface, and the place smells like weed mixed with sweat.

  “No air conditioning?”

  Sky turns to me. “He’s a mechanic and a comedian.”

  She goes to the back room and opens the door. I follow and watch, dumbfounded as she starts stacking her books into a milk crate, oblivious to the guy who’s taken up residence on her bed.

  I kick the mattress. “Get up, asshole.”

  Sky shoots me a wide-eyed warning. “Leo!”

  “What the fuck does this guy think he’s doing crashing on your bed?”

  I kick him this time and he wakes with a start. “What the fuck, man?”

  “Get up and get out.” I hear voices in the main room after he stumbles out, and can’t help but call after him, “Does anyone wear clothes in this goddamn flophouse?”

  I take the pink sheets off the mattress, wrapping all the bedding up with it, and then check on Skylar to see that she’s packing the last of her things into another crate.

  “
What are you doing?” some snotty bitch calls from the doorway.

  “Are you Holly?” Skylar digs her nails into my forearm but I’m not having it. When the girl nods, I tell her, “Skylar’s moving out and you are returning every cent she paid you in rent right now. Cash or Venmo, your choice.”

  “Like hell I am.”

  “You might have given me a heads up, Holly. I haven’t been here in days because you have people coming in and out of here all the time. Maybe you could have told me about your boyfriend’s side hustle before I handed you a thousand dollars.” Sky walks right up to her. “So you heard the man…Walk your skinny ass upstairs right now and get my money.”

  I can see the fuck you forming on Holly’s lips when a familiar face pokes his head into the room. “What’s up?” His eyes go wide. “Hey, Mr. Hale. Uh, what are you doing here?”

  “Helping Sky move out and getting her money back.”

  “Oh, that’s cool. It didn’t work out?”

  “No.” Sky glares at him. “It didn’t work out. Now tell your babe to go get my money.”

  He gestures for his girl to go upstairs and follow orders. “Are you kidding me right now? She paid the rent and there’s no fucking refund policy.”

  “Get the money, Holly.” He raises his voice and clamps a hand down on her shoulder. “Now.”

  A minute later we’re walking back to the car with Greg following after us carrying the last of Skylar’s things. Once everything is in the trunk I turn to him when he says, “I’ll see you in a few weeks, Mr. Hale.”

  “I might have to rethink that.” I look around the property and then back to him. “I don’t like your act, don’t like your girlfriend, and I don’t want anyone on my team who treats his neighbors the way you do. This is a fucking disgrace. Clean this shit up, and then maybe we’ll talk.”