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“Oh my god! My baby!” She darted toward me, her hands waving in front of me, too scared to touch me. “What happened?”
“I got into a fight.”
Mom’s eyes narrowed. “First day back and you get into a fight? What has gotten into you lately, Aria?”
“I told you what happened, Jan,” Sal said from the doorway. “It wasn’t her fault.”
“I know,” Mom replied to him but didn’t take her gaze off mine, “but it’s not like you to retaliate.” I could see the disappointment on her features, but more importantly, I could see the shadows in her eyes. Shadows that questioned if I was okay—not physically, but mentally. I wasn’t sure what was worse: her being scared of who I was becoming, or me embracing it and not caring what anyone else thought anymore. I was lost in a sea of sorrow and pain with no one in sight to save me.
“I know it’s not,” I told her. “It won’t happen again.”
She stared at me, searching my eyes for something I knew she wouldn’t find because I was shutting down in front of her. I was closing myself off to anything she could find out.
“Okay,” she whispered and stepped forward, taking my hand in hers. “Has a doctor come and seen you yet?”
“Yeah,” Uncle Brody answered for me, his voice gentle now. “She needs to go have some X-rays, and then a nurse is gonna come and clean her up.”
“Okay,” Mom said again. “Okay.” She blew out a deep breath. “I suppose the silver lining is you’re not at school for the next week.”
“Really, Jan?” Sal asked, his voice sounding frustrated. “That all you’re thinking about right now?”
“What would you like me to think about, Sal?” Mom asked, turning to face him. “I refuse to wallow in the past.” I wasn’t sure she knew how much her words stung. She’s done an expert job at not living in the past, and I wished I knew how she managed it.
I frowned at her and regretted it as soon as my eye stung. “I don’t understand…”
“We’re moving next Saturday, remember? I told you this morning. At least you’ll have extra time to help pack things away.”
Was she really…did she…I flicked my gaze to Sal, but he was looking down at the floor now, and Uncle Brody was reading the paper the doctor had given him, but Ford shook his head. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and when his eyes met mine, I knew he wasn’t happy. I’d noticed how observant he was, which was probably why he was such a good DEA agent, but it also meant he saw the things everyone else seemed to ignore.
“I can take her to the X-ray,” Ford said and stepped forward. “I’ve been there plenty enough, so I know the way.”
Uncle Brody handed him the piece of paper, and Ford extended his hand to me. “Come on, Tyson.”
My shaky hand reached for his, and then his rough palm connected with mine as he helped me off the bed. The room was silent as we exited, and once we were at the X-ray waiting room, Ford said, “I know what it’s like to have a mom who pretends everything is always okay.” I didn’t acknowledge his words as he sat in the chair beside mine. He stretched his legs out in front of him. “You gotta learn not to be like that. You keep pretending and pushing things down, you’ll eventually explode.”
I turned to face him and stared at the side of his face. Scruff lined his jaw, and his high cheekbones led to his hazel eyes. “I…don’t know what to say to that.”
“Don’t need to say anything. You gotta do you, but don’t think you’re alone.” He met my stare. “Lola and I grew up in the shittiest neighborhood. We fought for our lives every day, but that don’t mean because you got the security of four walls and food in your belly that you’re not fighting too.” He didn’t move his gaze off mine. “You got people who care about you, Tyson. People who will go to bat for you. I know you know that.”
“Cade,” I whispered, knowing exactly who he was talking about.
Ford clipped his head in a nod. “He’ll do anything for you, even risking his freedom.”
“What?” I didn’t understand what he was saying. What did he mean risk his freedom?
“Ahhh, shit. He didn’t tell you, did he?” Ford let his head dro
p back. “Jesus Christ. He told me he ended things with you—”
“Wait.” I placed my hand on his arm. “What are you talking about?”
He rolled his head to the side to meet my stare. “I know about the two of you.” He paused to drive his point home. “I also know he broke up with you because of what I said to him.”
“What”—I licked my lips, feeling a lump form in my throat—“did you say to him?”
“I told him the facts. I told him he’d broken the law. I told him”—Ford sat up straighter—“I told him he’d committed statutory rape.”
My breath stalled in my chest, and I placed my hand over my heart, sure it would evaporate if I didn’t keep it locked inside. “I…”
