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“Everything is just so much better.” She tucks her body against my side, resting her head on my shoulder. “Who knew this could be so much fun?”
“Do I need to call Girls Gone Wild?” I tease. “Drinking, sneaking out at night, and now smoking weed. What’s next, peaches?”
The amusement on her face slips away, and I know she’s thinking about the life waiting for her back at home. We’ve spent countless hours together over the past few weeks getting up to whatever we could on the ranch. Pushing boundaries. Stealing keys to drive the counselor’s car around. Late-night swims and long walks around the property. Other than an hour when she disappears every day to make her phone calls, she’s spent every second of her free time with me. We’ve avoided the inevitability hanging over our heads, pretending it doesn’t exist, but at moments like these, it peeks through the clouds.
I want to tell her she doesn’t have to return to her life. I won’t pretend to be a white knight, but I would figure something out if she’d bet that much on me. The problem is, I know she won’t. Bianca’s worst quality is her loyalty. She’s devoted to her family and that rich douche boyfriend, and she won’t let them down, even if it costs her everything.
“Do you think you can get us another joint?” she asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Jamie’s brother smuggled some in for him, but it took a lot of bartering just to get that one.”
I don’t mention that I doubled down on all his chores this week.
Her phone rings, scaring the shit out of both of us. When she yanks it out of her jeans and checks the display, panic bleeds across her face.
“Crap, it’s my mom.”
“Just call her back later,” I tell her.
She swipes the screen and sees a bunch of texts, and her panic morphs into full-on fear. “Oh my God, they’re here!”
The phone rings again, and this time, she answers it as she jumps up, swaying a little on her feet. “Mom? I know. I’m sorry. I thought you guys couldn’t make it this weekend. Yeah, I’m coming down now. Just give me a couple of minutes.”
She hangs up and starts walking, and I get up to follow her. But when she sees me at her side, she pauses.
“You can’t go over there with me.”
Her reaction feels like a punch to the gut, and I know what she really means is they can’t see her with me. It’s not a surprise, but something hits different when Bianca utters those words.
“I’m sorry, Madden,” she says. “I’ll catch up with you after, okay? Just let me go deal with this, please.”
She takes off again, and I stand there like a fucking idiot, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. Because even in the face of her shame, I still want to go after her. I want to make sure she’s okay. And if she gets in trouble, I want to be there to defend her.
This situation is beyond fucked up, but I need to see it for myself. So I go. It’s family day, and people are scattered all over the lawn having picnics. None of them pay any attention to me when I take a seat at an empty table behind Bianca’s family. Her back is turned, so she can’t see me, but I don’t miss the disapproving look her mother gives me before she lays into her daughter.
“The counselors tell us you aren’t sharing. You aren’t participating in the therapy sessions. This is the entire point. It’s not a vacation. You need to get yourself sorted out so you can come back home and get on with your life. How many times have we been over this?”
Bianca hangs her head, nodding softly. “I know. I’m trying, I promise. It’s just—”
“This isn’t a game,” her mother snaps. “Maybe you need to come home and see a therapist there so we can make sure you’re doing what you’re supposed to.”
Bianca’s head whips up. “No, please. You can’t do that. I’m not ready yet.”
“Then prove to us that you’re making an effort,” her mother says. “Otherwise, I can’t justify keeping you here. You have responsibilities at home. It’s time to grow up, Bianca.”
Anger washes over me as I try to contain my revulsion for her mother. She’s completely fucking oblivious to the pain she’s causing her daughter. Or maybe she just doesn’t care. But regardless, it doesn’t matter because Bianca confirms what I already knew she would.
“I’ll do the work, Mama. I promise.”
Her mom, seemingly satisfied with her daughter’s submission, leans in to hug Bianca. But as she does, her face morphs from pleased to horrified. She sniffs Bianca’s hair, and her fingers dig into her arms.
“Have you been smoking marijuana?”
