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Kanyon’s words from earlier come back to me. He’s just a kid who is so eager to grow up so he can protect his family. So he can take some of the weight off of his sister’s shoulders. He’s a kid who shouldn’t have to be thinking about shit like that, but she’s sacrificed so much for her family. She works harder than any other college student I know, all so that her siblings can have the childhood she missed out on. It’s easy to understand why he worries about her. Why he felt the need to call me out and attempt to intimidate me to make sure I wasn’t fucking with his sister. All he wants is for her to have someone to ease herburdens, to have her back. To protect her like she spends so much of her time protecting them.
“If you need a punching bag, I'll be your punching bag. Okay? You’re scared and pissed and you know what? I am too. I’m not trying to take you home just so I can fuck you, Ryn. I want to take you home so I can take care of you. So we can talk to Beau and figure out what we can do. If we can get security at your grandma’s house. Or if maybe we should put a camera here if the stalker might come back again.” Her body trembles as more sobs consume her, but her fists drop from my chest as they wrap around my waist instead. “You have so many people on your side, baby. And we’re going to figure this shit out. Together. We’re going to protect Rayne and Kanyon and your grandma, and you fucking too. We’ve got you, just lean on me a little.”
She stops holding back the tears, letting every bit of feeling out with her sobs. It reminds me of the way I held her after I found her crying in the shower. She holds so much in and my chest physically aches at seeing her in pain. I’m starting to realize that maybe the best thing I could do for this girl is give her the time and space to break down. To hold her while she falls apart. To be the person her baby brother wants her to have. And maybe I want that too.
When her sobs subside and her tears slow, she tilts her head back to look at me with a curious look in her expression. “You called me Ryn.”
I wipe a tear off her cheek and smile. She’s so goddamn beautiful, even with red and puffy eyes and black mascara smeared down her face. “I did.”
She cocks her head to the side and I can’t tell if she likes that I did, or hates it. “That’s what my family calls me.”
“They do,” I agree. I liked it. I wanted to try it myself and it tasted as good as tequila passing my lips. Made me feel like I’m as close to her as her family. “Did you hate it?”
Torryn takes a moment to respond, but eventually presses her face into my chest as she shakes her head. “I liked it.”
Good. ‘Cause I like being closer to her than anyone. I love that she likes it too.
Maybe I do want to be more than just friends with the girl whose sadness breaks my heart.
“Let’s go home, Ryn.”
thirty-four
DON’T FORGET THE POLAROIDS
Everyone is still awake and waiting for us when we get home.
Baylor buys me time while I rush down the hall to wash my face clear of evidence from my breakdown. It’s one thing for Baylor to see me make such a mess of myself and a complete other for the whole house to bear witness to it.
When I do make it back to the living room, I stop in my tracks as everyone turns in unison to check on me. Except there’s an extra face that shouldn’t be here right now. “Why are you here?”
“It’s not because I missed your attitude,” Xander fires back. At least he’s not a sensitive bitch who gets offended by me getting straight to the point. He sighs, his smirk falling off his face as I take a seat on the couch next to Baylor. “I actually do need to talk to you.” His voice drops into a more somber tone. “Levine was catching us all up at what you found at your apartment.”
Isla wipes at her cheeks furiously and I know she’s trying to hold it together for me. But she’s just as protective over the kids as I am. Just as affected by this whole twisted mind game as I am. Wells pulls her into his side. “I think you guys should just get rid of the apartment,” he declares. “Move in here permanently. Save some money. It’s a win-win.”
My first instinct is to be outraged, to argue and fight back. To not lean on them anymore than we already have. But I bite my tongue and let the feeling wash over me. Attempt at not responding with emotion and take a moment to think it over. “I agree,” Beau adds. “Are you really ever going to feel safe in that apartment again?”
Probably not. I can’t bring myself to say the words, but I know he’s right. It hurts to think the little space Isla and I made for ourselves there, the home we built, no longer feels like ours. Will probably never feel like ours again.
“I won’t,” Isla whispers, looking directly at me with a plea in her eye. I’m not surprised. I can’t ask her to go back there. It was hard enough when the place was trashed and our once safe bubble was burst. But now? Who knows how many times he’s let himself in? How many times he sat on our couch or laid in our beds? There was no trace of a break-in like last time, and yet clear signs he had been there.
Baylor runs his finger over my lower back, a silent reminder that he’s there. His words from my apartment come back to me. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and lean my head on his shoulder. As I exhale, I agree. “Okay.” Some of the weight eases off my shoulders and Baylor tightens his hold on me just hard enough to feel him.
“Good. Now about the new note,” Beau continues. “We can have security assigned to your grandma’s house and specifically to follow Rayne. You just need to tell me if we’re breaking the news to Grandma, or if the team is staying out of sight and watching from afar.”
More weight eases, but maybe this is too much? How can I accept even more than what they’re already doing for us? “I don’t think I could pay for something like that,” I admit.
I’ve never seen Beau so blank-faced as he stares back at me. “Beau,” I argue. “I can’t ask for more free shit than what you’ve already done.”
He rolls his eyes. “My dad’s a millionaire. He has so much money it’s actually obscene. Trust me, he can afford this.”
“But,” I don’t really have an argument back to that, but it feels like I should.
“No, buts,” he counters. “You’re helping my dad’s karma. So are we telling Grandma, or no?”
I should, I really really should. At this point it’s a matter of their safety as well. Having them be more vigilant and aware of their surroundings is a good thing. But… But what will the stress do to them? It could shatter Rayne’s innocence. Kanyon is already so eager to grow up and this will only cement that desire in him. The need for him to be an adult already when all I want is for him to enjoy the last few years of high school. And my grandma? Fuck. She’s already old and so stressed. Her health is deteriorating every year and I can’t risk pushing her even further down that path with the stress of this news.
“How good are they?” I can’t help but find myself asking. Anything to justify keeping my family in the dark a little while longer.
