“Okay. So what happened?”
His head jerks toward the open door. “Get in. I’ll tell you on the way.”
Before I climb in the car, he pulls me against him. “Just so you know, I’m not taking the money back.”
My bottom lip pulls between my teeth as my head shakes. “As bad as it might make me sound, I’m not dumb enough to offer to give it back.”
He grins. “It doesn’t sound bad at all.”
“I can take care of myself, you know. But I’m not foolish enough to place pride above survival. I don’t need to needlessly suffer if someone is offering help.” I lift a shoulder, smiling to myself. “I’m just too prideful to ask for help. Not that I had anyone to ask.” I climb into the car before he says anything.
A few minutes later, we’re on the road, following traffic. I stare out the window, thinking about what I said. It’s not that I don’t have friends. I do. Some are better off than others, but there’s none I would feel comfortable enough to ask for the amount of money I needed.
“Why not say something to Casey?” His deep voice breaks into my thoughts, almost as if he were reading them.
“No. You first. What really happened with the bank?”
Jagger
Poppy’s smart. I knew when I transferred the money to her account, it wouldn’t take long for her to figure it out. I also expected the questions, even if I hoped she wouldn’t ask.
Heavy remorse escapes from my lungs, long and slow, as I tumble through all the ways to tell her, hoping to find the easiest, least hurtful option. But the truth is, there is no painless way to tell her.
“Renee—Phoebe,” I correct, “took it.” I take my eyes off the road, glancing toward Poppy. Her eyes are wide with shock. “Why was she on your account?”
“It’s an account Nana helped us start when we were younger.” A thud sounds when her head falls against the glass. “She hasn’t touched it in years. I guess that’s why they wouldn’t listen when I told them it was an unauthorized transaction. Do you think she’s why Nana took out a mortgage on the apartment?”
“No.” My fingers tighten around the steering wheel, and she notices.
“What do you know, Jagger?”
One hand releases the steering wheel, and I prop my elbow on the door panel. My cheek leans into my closed fist as I watch the road in front of us. I wanted this night to be special, and this shit is doing nothing but killing the mood from moments ago. “I asked a favor from someone the night you told me about all of this.” I couldn’t ask my brother without facing an interrogation, and Will had already refused to give me anything when I asked. So I went to the one other person I knew could dig up info on anyone, thanks to his money, connections, and extreme paranoia. It took Maddox a day to give me everything I needed. Unfortunately, I had to leave town the morning after, so I couldn’t do anything with it until I got back. “Your Nana borrowed the money for your dad.”
“M-my dad? Why would she do that? I don’t…I…What?”
“He owed the wrong people a lot of money, Halfpint. Those people went to your Nana looking for him. I’m willing to bet they threatened you and Phoebe, so your Nana got them the money.”
She blinks once. Twice. Like her brain is buffering. “Oh my God,” she gasps, staring at me with wide eyes. “Why would my dad owe anyone? H-he was a partner in a law firm.”
I already knew that. When I realized the man who dropped his daughters off with his parents, visits few and far between throughout the years, and even less financial support was a damn lawyer, I wanted to kill him. For Phoebe, who sought validation in any way she could. And for Poppy, who was killing herself to protect what little she had left of her childhood.
The man has more addictions than me. In a way, I understand. Grief does some fucked up shit to your head, even years after the fact. But he abandoned his children—children hechoseto have. It’s something Phoebe and I bonded over. A fucked up trauma bond because while my dad stayed, he abandoned me in all the ways that matter.
I know Poppy and I share the same bond, but I’ve been trying not to focus on that with her. I haven’t focused on my life, my past, at all because when I’m with her, my shit fades away.
“Poppy, your dad…” I scratch the side of my face, wondering how she’ll handle the information. “He isn’t with his firm anymore. They removed him a couple of years ago.”
“They can do that?”
“When he gets arrested for possession and solicitation, they can.”
“What the hell?” she hisses, her head falling once again.
“I’m sorry, Halfpint. About all of it.”
Silence follows for several seconds, and it’s not comfortable. It’s thick and suffocating with anger, tension, and grief. But then it evaporates as if it were never there. “Okay. So, Dad has fucked up his life. That’s his business, not mine. And Phoebe needed the money for something. I don’t know what, and I wish she had come to me instead of stealing it, but it’s done now. No point in dwelling on any of it.” Her head bobs once, and it seems she’s moved on.
I pull into the parking lot, park the car at the restaurant, and turn to face her. Determination and resolve tilt her brows. Acceptance dances in her eyes.
