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Eventually Zoey untangles herself from her parents before walking over to her brother. His smile widens into a grin as he hooks an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into an embrace. “So, I hear you escaped, huh?” he says, a note of pride in his voice.
Zoey lets out a laugh as she pulls back. “Yeah, I guess you repeatedly kicking my ass when we were kids taught me a thing or two.”
Max chuckles, his arm still wrapped around his sister. “Well, I always knew you were a badass, but you’re welcome.”
Zoey gives him a playful punch, her gaze moving back to me as I stand by the door, already itching to hold her again. I watch as she turns back to her brother, says something I can’t hear before she lets go of him and walks back to me.
I reach for her, exhaling as I once again fit her against me, both arms wrapped around her as she rests her head against my chest.
“Have they said when you can come home?” Jeff asks.
“Now, apparently,” Zoey says. “I gave a statement to the detective before, and the doctors have said I can go.”
I let out a sigh of relief, grateful I won’t have to spend another night without her. Because regardless of what happens or where she goes tonight, her parents’ house, her condo, or my place, I am not leaving her side, not for a single second.
“Excellent,” Jeff says, smiling at his wife. “Ethan brought you some clothes, so—”
The rest of his words are cut off by the door opening and Detective Simmons walking in with another guy in a suit who I assume is the Nevada detective he mentioned earlier.
“Zoey Holden?” Detective Simmons says, walking toward us.
“Yes.”
He offers her a warm smile, giving me a quick look before he turns back to her. “I’m very glad this has turned out the way it has, and I know you want to get home, but before you go, can I ask you some questions?”
She looks up at me, the exhaustion I noticed when I first walked in here, only magnifying. “Is that really necessary tonight?” I ask. “She’s exhausted. Can we do this tomorrow?”
Detective Simmons looks at the other detective before turning back to us, a look on his face that tells me he wants to talk now. I can feel Zoey sag against me, as though it’s only my arms that are holding her up at this point. When I look at Jeff, he’s noticed too and as I turn back to the detective to repeat my assertion that this will happen tomorrow, it’s Max who speaks first.
CHAPTER8
ZOEY
“You should go home, Zoey,” Max states firmly. “This can all wait till tomorrow.” Max holds a hand out to me, indicating that I should go with him as he looks over at our mom and dad.
“I agree with Max,” Ethan says, his words clipped, and his jaw clenched, but neither of my parents say anything. They obviously know me better than these two, but I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. Max and Ethan want what’s best for me.
I’ve been through a lot in the last forty-eight hours, but that doesn’t mean I can’t speak for myself still. These two need to realize that or we’re going to have an issue on our hands. Obviously, there is something going on between them too, but I don’t have the time or the patience to deal with that right now. They’re both adults, and whatever it is, they need to get over it.
“While I know you both mean well, I can still speak for myself and make my own decisions,” I say, not trying to come across as a bitch, but they both need to know I don’t need them telling me what to do.
I hear my mom let out a stifled laugh behind me, and it’s the first time since all this has happened that the awkwardness and the fear has subsided a little. As much as I want to take care of everyone, I know I need to take care of myself. I can’t be worried about how everyone feels or if I’ve upset Max or Ethan with my response.
“Max, go home,” I now say. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I turn back to Ethan, but Max lets out a long scoff of annoyance.
“I drove with Mom and Dad so I can’t go home,” he says somewhat indignantly, and again our mom laughs. We might be in our twenties, but the fact that we are siblings will never change.
“Fine, drive home with us then, but yes, I am leaving right now,” I reply, walking past the detectives toward the door with everyone following me. “I’m going to be leaving,” I now say, directing my comment at the detectives. “I need to go home and not think about this for a bit. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.” I don’t give the detectives an opportunity to argue with me. I’m done with this, exhausted and needing to get back to a place I feel safe.
The detective hands me his card, telling me to reach out when I’m ready to discuss my case. The thing is, I’m not ever going to be ready to discuss it, but I know that’s not an option.
I turn back to my brother, bothered by his overprotective big brother shit and I say, “And I’m staying at Mom and Dad’s, Max.”
“Where’s Ethan staying?” Max quips, again with the underlying hostility, his feet practically pounding against the floor as he walks.
“He’s staying with me.”
As much as I want privacy, I also only want to go back to my parents’ house. It’s the place that was home for most of my life and it’s the place where I know I’m safe. It has security cameras and a fence and a gate and everything that Ethan’s house has, but his house doesn’t have the comfort that my childhood home brings.
