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Slamming doors, yelling at people, expressing to others that he was angry—he needed to do that. He needed to release the brewing fury inside of him. Out of all of my friends, Justin worried me the most. One day, he was going to explode, and it’d be far worse than slamming a door or yelling. It’d be worse than simply punching someone in the face.
I had a feeling the police would be involved. And at that point, I wouldn’t be able to help him.
Justin walked dejectedly into the house, head down, shoulders low, hands shoved into his dress pants. My frown deepened as I tried the impossible and thought of a solution that would make everything better. But it was impossible for a reason. There wasn’t a solution. Not one that would make Cadence’s situation magically disappear. Not one that could wipe away the nightmares that plagued Justin, or make Cal or any other kid like him believe in adults again.
When Justin disappeared into the house, I slowly backed out onto the road. After giving Toby’s aunt’s house one last glance, I drove off.
Everyone liked Cadence.
She was quiet but nice. She had a way of listening to us without ever judging us. I knew Toby adored her. People tended to have trouble swallowing his outgoing and outspoken personality. He had stomped on more toes than I could count. But Cadence took all that in stride and accepted that he was like that. She never balked at his presence and his energy.
And Paxon. Her connection with Calvin ensured that Paxon cared for her. Calvin stayed away from females because of his mother and her friends. Paxon held tightly to hope that Cadence’s influence would help his little brother diminish that fear. There were still ways to go. Our server at the diner proved that. But it wasn’t as bad as it used to be. At one point, we couldn’t even have a woman as our server, having to ask for a man to do it instead. It really was a miracle that he attached himself so tightly to Cadence. Was it because like-minded people tended to gravitate to each other? Was it because they could recognize the pain that the other held on to?
Bryan was still hesitant about her, which wasn’t a surprise. He didn’t let people in easily, always questioning their intentions. But he was slowly respecting her. Growing up with people always wanting to use him for his money or connections had made him paranoid and over protective of us. He didn’t like the idea of people trying to use us. He no longer believed Cadence was like all the other girls who tried to get into our little circle of friends, but that was only because we made him behave. It also didn’t help that it was us who was forcing her to be around us, not the other way around. Now he was warming up to her rather quickly.
Yes, we were all growing very attached to Cadence.
Especially Justin. He was a private person, but it was clear that he cared for her. He was always watching her, looking for signs of distress. He may not have been a frontlines kind of man, but he could create miracles in the background. He’d done it enough times for us. And he was sensitive to our emotions. It was clear today that he was also sensitive to hers as well. None of us even thought something was wrong with Cadence until he spoke up.
But now we knew, and we were going to help. She only needed to let us. Unfortunately, that was key. She had to let us. Cadence’s walls were built so high and so thick, leaving me wondering how the hell I was going to knock it down.
By the time I pulled into my driveway, the exhaustion was catching up. I worked overtime yesterday and this morning so I could be free for the rest of the day.
As I climbed out of the car, I looked over at Cadence’s house. I was beginning to like that I lived so close to her. While it made me all too much like a stalker, it still made checking on her easy.
Her car was parked in the driveway, in front of her garage, so I knew she’d made it back home safely.
Good.
Now she just needed to stay safe until we could find a way to help her.
Chapter Twenty
I walked through my house, drying my hair as I eyed all the boxes. It was starting to feel like I was never going to get unpacked, even with my at least one box a day rule. Sighing, I went up to my studio, grabbing a random box and tearing the tape off.
As soon as the flaps were pulled up, I froze, staring down at the contents.
Crap. After the emotional day I had, this was the last box I expected. It was one of the boxes from the basement of the old house. As soon as I’d seen all the cassette tapes, I knew I wanted them out and on display and had the box marked for the music studio.
I grabbed one of the black plastic tapes and turned it over in my hand. The thin rectangle casing easily fit in my palm, and yet it held so many memories for me. I turned it back over, looking at the white label on it, momentarily taken aback by my dad’s familiar handwriting. Even now, almost eight years later, and I still recognized his penmanship. I always thought he wrote prettily and even told him so when I was a child. My dad was probably the most organized person I had ever known, and his perfectly neat handwriting proved it. The man could write and make people believe he had typed it out instead.
I traced the name of the song over the tape.
A Nurturing Dream
A Liam Wiles original.
It didn’t take me long to set up the tape player I had. It was old school, but my dad had always been that kind of man, preferring cassette tapes and records over CDs or digital.
The music started right away, coming off a little staticky, but still clear. The piano was played beautifully, each note smoothly running into each other. I closed my eyes and pictured my dad’s long fingers stroking each key. He had a way of making any musical instrument sing perfectly, a talent I hadn’t quite been able to master.
Dad had what we called a golden voice. He always sang with confidence that rippled with warmth. That came through the speakers and before I knew it, I was crying as I listened to the lyrics.
“It’s the little dreams that matter
As your tiny hands cradle them close, so close
Needing nurture to grow into a reality
