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"Do we have cameras here?" Brock asked but I shrugged, stepping back when I realized I was still clinging to him. He looked like he wanted to protest but the sound of the cops filling the rink didn't give him the chance to say anything.
"Light up the office, I have to hang up on Tate," I said. Brock walked behind me, pressing himself close to my back like he was afraid to let me out of his sight.
The phone hung, dangling by the cord. I picked it up and pressed the receiver to my ear.
"Tate?"
"I'm leaving now, baby," he promised. "Stick with Brock and Elias."
"Okay," I breathed out, not bothering to protest.
The click of the receiver as I hung it up was followed by silence. Even Elias was quiet and he usually was chatty. My stomach knotted with nerves and worry.
"Did someone call my dad?"
"I did after calling the cops," Elias promised. "Let's go outside, he's probably freaking the fuck out."
Brock slid his arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side and leading me out of the building.
"Macy!" Dad called out, rushing forward and yanking me out of Brock's arms to wrap me in his own.
"What did they do to the rink?" I asked, pulling away to turn around. My heart sank at the sight of the shattered glass and obscenities spray painted on the surface. "What the fuck?"
When I looked at Dad's face he didn't even look surprised.
"This isn't the first thing to happen, is it?" I asked, eyes narrowing. "I think it's time for you to catch me up to speed."
"Tomorrow," he said. "Tonight, I have to deal with this bullshit. Can you guys get her home safe?"
"Is Mom asleep?" I asked, not wanting her to worry. Mom was not the calm or collected sort.
"Yeah," he admitted.
"She can stay with us." Brock's words had my dad's eyebrows raising and a laugh huffing out. He pulled out his phone, tapping away. "I'll text Tate and tell him to stay put."
"She can have my room," Elias promised. "I'll sleep on the couch. The door has a lock."
Dad wanted to argue but the sheriff was walking up. Dad leveled me with a serious look.
"I'm going to trust your judgment. Do what feels safe and don't rush things." The last comment had his eyes flickering over all three of us.
"I think he knows about us," Elias stage-whispered as Dad was dragged away to answer the sheriff's questions.
"There's no ‘us,’" I argued, though the fight was losing momentum every day.
"Come on, let's get out of here," Brock said. He pulled out his keys and clicked the fob, the lights blinking on a huge pickup truck. It was new and shiny and I knew my short self was going to have to struggle to get in.
"Of course, you drive this monster," I said drily. He grinned and walked around to the passenger seat, opening the door for me. I gripped the handle on the frame and hoisted myself up, blushing furiously when his hands locked on my hips as he helped me get in. When I was in the seat he reached over, buckling me up.
I wasn't sure if it was sweet or he was waiting for the trauma to hit me and afraid of a breakdown.
Brock's brown eyes met mine and he leaned in, brushing a kiss over my forehead. It was hard to breathe under his gaze. It felt like he'd seen me at my worst and I couldn't fathom how he could care this much. We were strangers.
"You're overthinking this too much," he said with a small smile. "Just live in the moment, Macy. But for now, that all can wait. Let's get you home and fed."
I nodded, no words coming to me. My chest felt heavy, like they were cracking my ribs open and revealing every vulnerability I had.
It was too much.
