Yeah, the incident that sparked my isolated homeschooling purgatory pales in comparison to watching my parents try to escape arrest.
Well, it’s my mom. She’s swinging her cuffed arms around and kicking at anyone who tries to get close to her, while my dad, as usual, is silent. He’s sitting in the back of a cop car, not saying a word.
A sick, intrusive chuckle rises from my throat and surfaces in a strangled bark. This is ridiculous.
Oh, good, my mom is being bundled into a cop car. Finally.
It only took three burly officers to contain her. It’s clear who the criminals are, and it’s not Ian.
“Again, he’s the one who got me out,” I say, to the police officer who’s holding Ian’s wrists down. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Callum, don’t say any more. Wait for my lawyer.” Ian’s breathing quickly and shaking—no, shivering, probably because he’s still in thin baseball pants and the temperature is plunging like the sun behind the horizon.
He’s always cold, and I don’t want him to be. I unhook the metallic blanket from my shoulders and gesture it toward him. The officer gives me a tired grunt before lifting Ian’s arms, letting me stick the blanket over Ian’s back and around his chest.
“You’re gonna freeze,” Ian says.
“I’m wearing jeans, flannel, and a sweater. You need this.”
The officer’s face firms up, but he doesn’t say anything, at least not for a few seconds. He shuts his eyes, sighing. “What the hell,” he mutters. “Okay, the elder Crosses have already volunteered enough information for us to determine that they’re the immediate priority for containment.” He bends down and unlocks the cuffs. “Donotleave the scene, but you can wait inside for further instructions.”
“Thank you,” Ian says gruffly. He shakes himself off and straightens up, and it takes all of my willpower to not wrap around him like a tropical snake.
We’re escorted into the empty ballpark, and we slump down onto a bench, basking in the heating and silence. The game got canceled, obviously, and we’re the only two people here.
“Are you okay?” I ask, and Ian turns to me.
“Areyou?” He runs a hand through his hair before latching onto me. “Fuck, you’re still shaking.”
“I gave you the blanket.”
My joke only puts a quivering smile at one corner of his mouth, and he silently drapes half of the plastic sheet over me. I curl into it and suck in a breath. It now smells like him. Like home.
I just want to go home.
The two of us fall further into silence. Come to think of it, this is the first bout of silence I can remember where it’s anything less than comfortable. With Ian, it’s always mutual and right, not because we don’t know what to say. That’s what’s happening now, but I can’t bring myself to change that.
Ian does. “Callum, how are you not a totalwreckright now?”
“Because you showed up,” I say plainly. “I can’t put into words how grateful I am that you stood up for me. I just closed off and didn’t say anything until the end after you showed up.”
Scoffing, he plants a gentle hand on my thigh. “Yeah, until you scarred your mom by telling her about our kinky bedroom escapades.”
A blush surges up from my chest, through my neck, and into my face. I still can’t believe I said all that, but it sure drove the point home that I’m too far gone for her and Dad to “save.”
“Right, but you’re the one who said everything I always wanted to,” I murmur.
Ian shrugs. “Hey, someone had to. Thanks for giving me the honor.”
“And you did it at gunpoint,” I add. “That was kind of badass.”
Shuddering, he tenses up. “I never want to do that ever again. God. Callum, your mom swiped your dad’s gun and tried to shoot you. I just jumped at the chance to take it away.”
“Look, I don’t want to speculate about whether my mom would have tried to shoot me for real,” I say, swallowing hard, which doesn’t help to dissolve the tense lump in my throat. “The gun was unloaded, I know that, and I’ll unpack the rest in therapy. All that matters now is that they’re gone.”
Ian gives me a weak smile. “You’re free.”
“I am.”
