Page 78 of What About Us

He’s crossed his arms, and all I can do is stare at him. He’s already found a rehab facility and made arrangements for her? I had no idea.

“I got a business here,” Mom counters.

“Not anymore. You’ll sign the deed over to Ivy.”

“Hell no.” She’s shaking her head, but I step in.

“I’ve been working at the bar for ten years without pay. Because of you, I’m broke,” I remind her, and she has the audacity to smirk. “I pay the employees, the utilities, and I just saw the notice that you owe six figures in back taxes on the business and the property.”

“So what? I ain’t giving you shit. I don’t care what your father wanted.”

What does that mean?

Xander steps forward. “This isn’t a motherfucking negotiation. You ruin everything you touch when it comes to her, and I won’t have it. Never again. Lucky’s is Ivy’s to do what she wants with it, and you’re going away. Whether that’s jail or rehab, I don’t really give a fuck.”

Mom’s eyes narrow, and she turns them to me.

“I’d take the rehab, but you never did make good choices.”

Her nose and mouth firm, and I can see that she wants to hit me. She can’t, but she wants to. More cop cars pull up out front, and she finally stands.

“Are we going to jail or the hospital?” Easton asks her. “Either way, you’re leaving here.”

“I’ll go to rehab,” she says, lifting her chin. “And there better be a big, fat check waiting for me when I get out.”

“Or what, Brenda?” Xander asks, tilting his head to the side. “Go get sober and live your life. If I ever hear that you so much as sent Ivy a text, I’ll make every fucking moment a living hell.”

“He threatened me!” Brenda points at Xander and turns to Easton, as if he’ll help her. “I want to press charges.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Easton mutters, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

She’s ranting and swearing the whole way to the car, and the other officers have to help Easton wrangle her in.

When the car leaves, I let out a deep sigh and pull my shirt up over my nose because the stench in here is unreal.

“I’ll go back to your place and grab my things,” I say slowly, trying not to cry as I stare at my ruined paintings. “But can Cally stay with you for a little while? I don’t want to bring her here. She doesn’t deserve to live in this. I can only imagine what my bedroom looks like and⁠—”

“Whoa.” Xander takes me by the arms and turns me to face him. “What are you talking about? You’re not moving in here. Absolutely not, you live with me now.”

I blink up at him. “I can’t just move in with you, Xander. I have a house. And I need to get started on cleaning it up.”

“We’ll hire someone to get in here and clean all of this out, and you can do whatever you want with the house, but you’re not living here.” He shakes his head and pulls me against him. “Besides, what about us? I just found you and this amazing thing we have going on. Cally loves it at my place, and I want you both there. I’m keeping you, Red.”

My jaw drops as I stare up at him, and then he’s leading me outside.

“I don’t want you standing in there for another minute,” he says. “It can’t be healthy. We’ll figure this mess out.”

“So, you’re saying I live with you now, I own the bar, or what’s left of it, you’ve paid for my mother’s rehab and for her to disappear out of my life, and . . . I don’t even know what else.”

“It’s been a busy week,” he says, nodding. “We have a lot going on.”

“We’re a we?”

I’m so . . . whose life is this? Did I step into an alternate reality?

“Yeah, wildcat. We’re a we. And we’re going to figure this out. Nothing needs to be done right this second.”

“Except, I really do need some of my clothes from in there.”