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All boldness drains from my body when he stands and stumbles toward me. “Get out and stay away from me, you worthless bitch.”
Regaining his footing, he marches in my direction. I shuffle backward to slam my hand against the buzzer on the wall, praying the officer really is just outside to save me.Don’t hurt me, please. Please.
Dunbar’s never laid a hand on me. Yet. His threats and near-misses grow with each year, making me fear it’s only a matter of time. I continue slamming the button, and I see the officer’s face appear at the door, buzzing it open. I slip my frame out the door, turning back for a last peek at my brother.
“You’re better than this, Dunbar,” I call out. “It doesn’t have to be this way. I love you.” My voice softens, cracking when I add, “Remember when we were kids and promised to always take care of each other?”
Dunbar’s blue eyes shoot daggers at me as the heavy door to his drunk tank slams shut with a thud.
Just before 6 a.m., I pull into my garage. Rainey fell asleep on the short drive home, and I don’t want to wake her. Gingerly, I open my car door and tiptoe to my niece’s door. I reach across Rainey’s lap to unfasten the seat belt, and she stirs.
She yawns, her bright blue eyes popping wide open. “Where am I?”
No longer in the police station, I have a moment to look Rainey over as I comfort her. She doesn’t really know what unfolded through the night and searches my face for an answer. Her hair’s a matted mess, hair ties hanging onto randomly clumped strands.
“We’re at my house. Remember when you’ve been here before?” I don’t know how to comfort her, but I want her to know she’s safe with me. “Ready for a sleepover?”
She glances around, spotting the daylight peeking through my open garage door.
“It’s morning, Aunt Noah. We can’t have a sleepover if it’s morning.” She’s relaxed enough to roll her clear blue eyes at me. Her eyes remind me of precious sapphires, reflecting both her innocence and feistiness.
“I know, baby cakes. We both need some sleep, though. Are you tired?”
She answers by pinching her right thumb and index finger together.
“Are you hungry? What’d you eat for dinner last night?” I tread carefully. Pushing too many questions too soon could alarm her. She’s taller, but when she crawled into my lap at the station, she felt as light as I remembered her being the last time I held her. Has my brother been feeding her? He’s always been careful to make sure Rainey’s basic needs are met-ish even when he’s not taking care of himself. I’m less convinced this time.
“Dad made mac ’n cheese,” Rainey says through a toothy grin.
That had to be at least twelve hours ago. “Come on. How about pancakes for breakfast?” Rainey’s face lights up like she’s won a million bucks. I learned pancakes are her favorite food in the entire world in the blips of time I’ve spent with her.
Once both of our bellies are full, I settle her into the guest room down the hall from my bedroom. After tucking her tiny body into the twin-size bed, and instructing Google Home to play the sound of rain as white noise, I’m hopeful she’ll get some rest.
I crash into my bed and my head spins. How will I do this? Disappointment crawls from a dark corner of my heart. I love Rainey, and I’ll stop at nothing to keep her safe. But a kid? What am I going to do with a kid? I’m almost thirty and decided early in adulthood being a mother wasn’t something I needed to be fulfilled. Strangers find it appropriate to assert their opinions and assure me I’ll regret it, but I’m satisfied. Caring for a kid wasn’t part of my life plan. But having a brother battling addiction wasn’t either.
My career in graphic design has been lucrative, affording me opportunities I never had as a child. After scrimping and saving for over six years, I fulfilled a childhood aspiration and purchased my dream home last year. Dunbar extinguished my closing day elation when he showed up high to help with my move. Hoping to avoid drama, I suggested he come back later. He used the opportunity to hurl nasty insults at me and remind me I’ve always thought I was better than him. Now, he said, I could prove it with my fancy house.
Dunbar’s talented at sucking the joy out of situations. I bit my tongue hard as he insulted me on my special day and cried myself to sleep that night, remembering I’d have been ready to buy a home a year earlier if I hadn’t used part of my down-payment to bail him out of jail. Twice.
I flip off the bedroom light and pull the covers over my head. I don’t know if a kid can fit into my life . . .
Chapter 2
Logan
TwoMonthsEarlier
I meet Paul Polske just days after arriving in Alexandria. Searching for a fresh start, I uprooted the lives of my daughter and I to drive across the country. With the year we’re having, the only thing keeping me going is knowing better times could lie ahead.
Alexandria P.D. takes ‘No Parking’ signs seriously. I’m in and out of the barbershop in less than thirty minutes, and I find a ticket jammed under my windshield wiper, irritating the hell out of me. I missed the ‘No Parking’ sign, but I drive straight to the police station, and pray I can talk my way out of it.
I can pay the ticket if I have to, but I need to save every dollar I can. The job hunt wasn’t kind to me in California, and Kentucky’s job market is proving even more abysmal.
In what I later learn is a rare moment of grace, Paul, who greets me at the reception desk and introduces himself as chief of police, rips the ticket up. He gives me a warning to mind the signs and be careful where I park my car. The panic rushing out of my face must make it clear to Paul that I’m happier than the Average Joe talking his way out of a ticket.
“How long you been in town?”
I delay my response, struggling to understand his slight drawl. “Less than a week.”
