Chapter Thirty-Seven
PENELOPE
The restof the drive is quiet; it feels like everyone in the car is holding their breath. Traffic moves normally, thank God. Minxy stays tucked against Talon’s side, her fingers clutched in his hoodie. His glasses slide down his nose every time he leans to whisper to her, but he never pushes them up, he just breathes against her hair and holds her together.
“You’re safe. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Each phrase hits me square in the chest.
I adjust my grip on the steering wheel, keeping my eyes on the road and the rear-view mirror at the same time. Minxy’s eyes meet mine once, then dart away. She’s studying everything, smart girl, she’s not trusting anyone or anything and taking in her surroundings.
“We’re almost there,” I tell her.
She nods without lifting her head from Talon’s shoulder.
Talon’s breathing is uneven, and his leg bounces erratically, stops, and starts again. His entire body looks like it’s vibrating with adrenaline.
When we turn onto my street, Minxy straightens just a little. I see her eyes flick between houses, between manicured lawns and basketball hoops.
“We’re going inside together,” I promise. “No surprises.”
She nods again. “You live by the college campus?”
“I do, I’m also a student there. Your brother lives in the dorms, but I live off campus.” I park and kill the engine. For a moment, no one moves. Then I open my door, and the spell breaks.
“Come on,” I say, keeping my voice even.
Gideon exits first, scanning the street. Nothing, just a quiet block where nothing bad is supposed to happen. Talon helps his sister out of the backseat. She hesitates, eyes on the curb, wide like she’s worried the ground won’t hold her weight.
“It’s okay,” I say gently. “You can come in. I promise we’re not taking you back, and Abi doesn’t know where you are.”
She steps closer to me than I expected. Talon stays glued to her other side, ready to catch her if she falls. Inside, she pauses again in the entryway. Not frozen—waiting. For permission.
“Talon,” she whispers, “am I allowed to go in?”
My throat tightens.
“You don’t need permission here,” I tell her. “This is your home for as long as you want it.”
She blinks several times, then walks slowly into the living room. Her fingers skim the back of my couch, then the corner of a pillow, then the frame of a photo on the shelf—a picture of me and my dad at some stupid fair five years ago. She lingers on it longer than anything else.
“You look like him,” she says quietly.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah. I do.”
Talon’s hand trembles when he lets go of her. The moment she settles onto the couch, his body sags, like tension is leaking out of him too fast to manage.
“That’s the guy Abi is engaged to? Your dad?”
“Yup. But I’m not letting that wedding happen,” I tell her honestly.
“You shouldn’t,” she hisses. “He’ll end up like all the rest.”
I don’t know what that means, but we all have a pretty good idea. Which is exactly why she’s not at that school anymore, and no way in hell is my dad marrying Abi.
Talon heads into the kitchen, bracing his palms against the counter. His shoulders heave once, twice. It’s not a sob; it’s deeper. Something that’s been sitting inside of him since his dad died.
I step up behind him and wrap my arms around him, laying my head against his back. “Hey. You did it.”
