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This is one of the reasons I always thought he was a jackass. I thought he didn’t care. Well, not about anything but himself and power. But I was wrong. Very wrong. Just because he doesn’t shout and scream, or react in a way we all deem ‘normal,’ doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.
He feels deep, he cares hard. Just need to figure out a way to see past the thick fortress he has around him to be able to experience it.
“I said no to start with. I thought she was crazy. Ivy had always been my closest friend, but we never went there. It felt like a betrayal to our friendship if anyone found out. We were lying. There was zero chance of Daisy being mine.
“But then, things changed. Her psychosis was getting worse, and I was achingly aware of Sheila’s age. Daisy needed someone to rely on, someone who could take care of her if the worst happened.”
I look JD right in the eyes. “I wasn’t letting her go into the system if that happened.”
“Good,” he states coldly. “No kid needs that.”
I nod, glad he understands.
“So you agreed and then she took off and drove her car over a cliff?” Reid asks matter of fact.
Pain grips me in a tight hold as I think about the way Ivy ended things.
She covered up the worst of her struggles in the last few weeks, but it was bad. Really fucking bad.
“Pretty much,” I force past the giant lump in my throat.
“And Alana knew about all this?” Reid confirms.
“Of course. She’s my wife. I never would have done something so life-changing without talking to her about it.”
“And she was okay with it.”
“Saving a kid from the system? From Harrow Creek?” I laugh bitterly. “Yeah, she was okay with it.”
“So why does she live with Sheila?” JD asks.
“Because she’s family. She’s her great-grandmother and it’s what Ivy would have wanted.”
“And when she isn’t fit for the role anymore?” Reid asks.
“Then, she comes to me… to us.”
“And you didn’t think to mention any of this earlier?” JD asks.
“It hasn’t been the most pressing issue on my mind recently,” I confess, earning nothing but silence in return.
33
ALANA
“Someone is going to need to carry her in,” I say quietly as we pull into Reid’s garage.
Kristie had lulled me into a false sense of security when she woke yesterday.
She seemed… okay. Weak and broken, but okay.
But as the hours passed, the worse her withdrawal symptoms started to get.
It began with increased breathing and quickly moved into sweats, full-body trembles and vomiting.
Watching her suffer broke something inside me.
All I’ve ever wanted to do is protect her.
