When I came back, Ivy was asleep, curled up under the covers while Folk stretched out beside her on top of them.
He was wide awake, gaze sharp as he tracked me crossing the room. “All right?”
Nope. But I was bored of being a basket case, so I shrugged. Vague. Dishonest. Unconvincing, if Folk’s low chuckle was anything to go by.
His humour didn’t last long, though. He gestured for me to get in bed, then peered at Ivy, checking her for signs of consciousness.
“She’s out cold,” I supplied distantly. “If she gets rowdy, it won’t be until later.”
Folk tucked her in a bit better.
Free Willywas still playing in the background. I turned it off and waited for him to give me the good news, but Folk got up and left the room.
He went downstairs and was gone so long that I wondered if I should follow, but as the thought crossed my mind he returned with water and his phone.
A glass found its way to my hand. Being around him so much had increased my H2O consumption enough that I drank it without thought, setting the empty glass down beside me.
Folk replaced it with his phone, the screen open on a message thread with a contact that was a world away from his sister’s actual name.
No 1 Sibling:Her mum did it last night. Ivy said she’d had lots of “grown up” drinks and she was shouting at someone on the phone. Then she cut Ivy’s hair with a bread knife and told her that it would “kill” her dad if Ivy told him what happened. She didn’t mention her teacher, but I’m assuming if she didn’t answer any questions about it at school, that’s probably why.
No 1 Sibling:Please tell me you’re fixing this.
No 1 Sibling:FOLK.
I read the top message three times, bile rising in the back of my throat, my chest so tight there was no way I wasn’t having a damn heart attack.
“Is booze an issue for her?”
Folk sounded so far away.
I passed his phone back. “Not in the addiction sense. More that it turns her into a nastier version of someone already pure fucking evil.”
Folk’s jaw ticked—the only sign that me badmouthing Lauren had caught him off guard. He typed a message to his sister, then tossed his phone aside. “She’s a problem,” he said plainly. “Not that you didn’t know that already, but this is much worse than anything she’s done before, unless there’s anything you haven’t told me.”
There was lots I hadn’t told him, but he was right. None of it was anything like this. “She’s never laid a hand on Ivy before. I didn’t—fuck, I didn’t think she would. I was fucking sure.”
Folk sat on the edge of the bed, closer to Ivy than me. “You can’t blame yourself for that. It’s not a normal thing to believe the mother of your child is going to hurt them.”
“I know. But she was never like other mums. Always kind of cold, you know? I wondered if she had PND.”
“My mum had that after Po. She hated herself, not everyone else.”
“You call your brother Po?”
Folk shrugged. “I call him lots of things.”
“Older or younger?”
“Younger. Then Finch. I’m the ancient one in that dynamic too.”
I felt old right now. And the more I stared at Folk’s beautiful face, the worse it got. “It sounded like you’re close to your sister.”
“I am.” He stretched his spine out. Rotated his wrists. “As much as I can be. But it’s hard when eighty percent of your life is things you can’t talk about.”
Folk had lived that far longer than he’d been a biker. Me? No one had ever asked. Not even mywifefor the brief time I’d had one.
He was still sitting up, gaze drifting in and out of focus, his mind clearly working as hard as mine. Probably with better results too.
