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Her lips twisted to the side and some of her dark hair fell in front of her face.
“I try, but my dad doesn’t really hear me. He likes to smile and pat my head, but he always tells me to just go see Red when I’m upset.”
My brows furrowed. “Who’s Red?”
Another yawn emitted from her.
“She’s the main old lady. She runs the kitchen, and club money. She buys groceries and has a soft spot for me. I like her, but on club nights like this, she gets just as involved with all the chaos as the rest of them.”
Her dainty hand flipped the top of the sleeping bag over, and she crawled in. She wore another one of her big T-shirts that swallowed her.
“Can you tell me a story?” Her voice came out as a whisper, and I decided to lay down too and just let her sleep.
I slid into my sleeping bag and rested my head on the pillow, propping my hands underneath me.
“What kind do you want tonight?”
Another yawn. “Adventure this time.”
I started in on the story ofPeter Pan, still confused as to how she never seemed to know any of these movies or story lines. Last summer I had spent the few times I did sleep up here with her retelling the story of Cinderella. Not that I wanted to, but she’d asked me for something with love and a happy ending, and my sisters had watched the movie that afternoon. So, I started, and she didn’t let me stop until she’d heard the very end.
“Does Peter love Wendy?” Callie suddenly asked, the sound of sleep heavy on her voice.
I stared at the ceiling of the tree house and considered her question.
The story of Peter Pan was always something I associated with pirates, cannon fire, and sword fights…but love? I had no clue…but I suppose—
“I think he did love her.”
Callie waited a second. “Why?”
I thought it over and just went with the first thing that popped into my head.
“I think he loved her because she wasn’t lost, she just wanted an adventure. She was always sure of who she was. She knew what her role was in Neverland…and with Peter.”
“But he rescued her so many times…” Callie argued softly.
I shook my head, knowing she couldn’t see me.
“Sometimes rescuing someone can lead to a pretty fun adventure. I bet Peter enjoyed it.”
She didn’t ask anything else, and I started to drift off.
Right before I fell asleep, I heard her whisper.
“I think Wendy loved Peter more.”
FIVE
CALLIE
Maxwell restedhis jaw on my raised knees.
My Great Dane was a cuddler, like an oversized emotional support dog. He could always sense when I was upset or hurt…or just needed extra love. He was a gorgeous blue breed with floppy ears and practically no manners whatsoever. I found him at a shelter as a puppy, and at the time they had him labeled as a mutt, likely a heeler breed, but I didn’t even care. His eyes met mine, and it was like we both just knew.
I’d driven home from the lawyer’s office under a cloudy sky, with rain pelting my windshield. It was good. It made me focus on the road and not my raging emotions. The reality that I had spoken to Wes sank into my mind like mud. Not really spoke—we argued. His words were tiny pebbles in my mind that I kept turning over and over.
Did I want a war with him? With the club?
