“So, when I tell you that you are no longer alone, that you have us, they aren’t just pretty words or empty reassurances. I mean it to the depths of my soul because we are so entangled in you that there is no us without you. You are our heartbeat, the strength in our unity, the undying flame lighting our path. Through the sunny days and the snowstorms ahead, we are at your side.”
His gaze flicks to Logan before returning. “Whether you run, whether you stay. You will not be alone.”
“What... You can’t?—”
“We can,” Logan interrupts with unwavering resolve. “And we will.”
“You have hockey,” I point out, shocked and at a loss to comprehend what they are truly saying.
“Doesn’t mean a damn thing if you aren’t in the stands cheering me on.”
“But, I can’t stay. Aurora…”
My head swivels between the two of them, begging them to understand.
“No more playing by your rules, Shortcake,” Logan states. “I’ve already set up a meeting with my lawyers for tomorrow. I’ll give your mom every cent I have if that’s what it takes to get Aurora away from her. I’m done sitting back and doing nothing.”
My gaze shifts to Royce, who merely nods. “Your mom is done controlling this shit. One way or another, we are going to get Aurora.”
33
ROYCE
My foot bounces against the library floor as I stare down at my phone. Logan is walking Riley to her next class. After what we walked in on yesterday, neither of us wants to leave her alone. She’s vulnerable right now. Terrified. She’s in fight or flight mode, and I saw the defeat in her eyes plain as day yesterday.
This isn’t a war she knows how to fight. It’s not a battle she thinks she can win. I saw the cogs turning in her head this morning. The flight plan she was stringing together with dental floss.
Only there’s no way in hell either Logan or I will let her run. What she hasn’t learned yet is that she doesn’t need to face this fight alone. We will fight it for her. With her. We won’t let her give up everything she’s worked for because of that sick son of a bitch.
And I’m sure as fuck not about to let her deal with this by herself. Logan’s solution is to go the nice, normal, legal route. However, I know how corrupt the system is. Not to mention how lengthy a case like this would be. We might have some time until Bertram’s release, but not that much time.
I’ve been staring at Lydia’s Craigslist post for a week now. No one has responded, but I keep coming back to it… it’s the strangeness of it all. And the timing. The fact she posted this—seemingly her only post on the site—merely days before Bertram’s parole hearing? That’s one hell of a coincidence.
Maybe I’m better off ignoring it. No one’s responded, so that could very well be the end of it…
… Or whatever she’s after, she could look elsewhere for it.
Decision made, I type out,I have the key, only pausing for a second before hitting reply.
Fuck it.Lydia is a wild card that I don’t like. She has too much control in this situation as it stands. Even if whatever this cryptic nonsense is has nothing to do with Bertram, Riley, or Aurora, it could be something I can use as leverage to get her to hand over Aurora to Riley. To ensurewecan protect them both by the time Bertram is released.
I sit there for another half hour, not getting an ounce of work done since my attention repeatedly shifts back to the phone before I give up pretending to work and toss my books into my bag.
Riley is in class for another hour, so I should take this opportunity to run home and grab some clothes, knowing the house will be empty. There’s not a chance in hell I’m leaving Riley alone after yesterday. She was already prone to nightmares before Gray threw this shit at her. No way am I about to leave her to deal with the fallout on her own.
Exiting the library, I cross campus to the parking lot and get into my truck, which has been sitting here since yesterday. I’d jumped into Logan’s car when we saw Riley heading off campus after Grayson’s little show. I’d wanted to give her the space she asked for, but the look on her face when she ran from the food court… Neither Logan nor I were happy knowing she’d be home alone while she fell apart.
Making it back to the house, I stop short when I step through the front door and find Grayson sitting in the living room with his head resting against the back of the sofa and eyes closed. Standing on the threshold, I debate leaving him to it, except worry has me stepping closer.
As I come into the room, I see how disheveled he is. His hair is a mess, looking like he hasn’t showered today. He’s wearing sweats and a hoodie, clearly showing he hasn’t been to class.
I hate how fractured everything is between us. It’s clear he isn’t okay, and I don’t know if it’s everything between us and shit with Riley or if something more serious is going on.
He wasn’t gloating yesterday when he delivered his news. In fact, if I had to guess, he only brought it up to gauge Riley’s reaction. I don’t know what he was expecting, or if he got what he wanted, but before I walked away, it wasn’t the smug satisfaction I saw on his face. It was a man who looked like he was drowning in an endless ocean.
“You know you can talk to me,” I say, settling into a seat.
He lifts his head off the sofa to look at me. His eyes are bloodshot, explaining his appearance. I don’t see any spirit bottles, so I’m guessing he drank himself into a stupor last night and is suffering from the consequences today.
