Her father’s arrest. Her mother’s abandonment when Gabriella had needed her most. The inappropriate onlineexchanges with her attacker. The assault in the woods. The suicide attempt.
She had good reasons for not going back there. But for Mia’s sake, she would brave those old ghosts.
Clay kept his focus trained on his father’s house with the sagging porch as one light flipped on inside after another.
“I’d like to stay with you.” He drummed his knuckles on the passenger-side window in a slow rhythm. “I’m worried about Mia’s state of mind. She seemed to agree to this arrangement out of desperation to avoid her social worker and it doesn’t give me a good feeling. What if she runs away?”
Or worse.
The girl didn’t seem suicidal, but Gabby knew firsthand how fast events could escalate in a teen’s eyes. She understood the way desperation could drive people to the brink.
On the other hand, she recognized how Clayton’s presence would shift a dynamic in her own relationship with Clayton. And while Mia’s safety was her highest priority right now, Gabriella couldn’t deny a heightened sense of awareness of the man beside her—a sensation that was only going to increase by sharing a roof with him even for a few days. Still…if she wanted Clay to be a part of Mia’s life, she couldn’t deny that this might be a step in the right direction.
“I’m worried about Mia, too,” she admitted, tracing a decorative band of leather around the padded steering wheel while they waited for the teen to return. “And I agree it would be best to have more than one set of eyes on her right now, especially since she’s lost her trust in me.” Remembering their argument pained her. “But it might be awkward for the three of us?—”
“Not at all.” Clayton straightened in his seat, giving herhis full attention. “I stayed with Zach and Heather at the house all last week, so I know the layout. There’s plenty of room. Especially if one of us takes the in-law addition.” He shrugged. “Put me anywhere. I just want to help out with Mia. This could be a good opportunity to get to know her. If Pete doesn’t make it out of the hospital, it’s going to be important that I’ve forged some kind of relationship with her to facilitate her next steps.”
He didn’t need to spell out those next steps. He’d told her often enough what he thought the best solution would be for Mia. But Gabriella tamped down her frustration, still hoping he would somehow change his mind once he got to know his sister.
Pete’s house went dark and Mia stepped onto the lopsided porch, backpacks slung over each of her shoulders. Gabriella watched her stride through the headlight beams, her head down.
“Of course.” Gabriella understood it was for the best. And maybe having Clayton around would ease some of her own discomfort at having to stay in that house with so many bad memories. “I’d rather have the in-law suite, if you don’t mind. There are two bedrooms over there.” One for her and one for Mia. “And less memories.”
This week when she was facing so much of her past at Jeremy Covington’s trial, she wasn’t ready to set foot in the childhood bedroom where she’d tried to end her life. Not yet. Not tonight.
Clayton nodded his understanding as Mia climbed into the car, thunking each backpack down on the floor at her feet. Music blared from her earbuds loudly enough to make it clear she wanted to tune out her companions.
Maybe that was why Clay quietly continued their conversation.
“I can make a run over to the motel to pick up some things for both of us if you want to head to your brother’s with Mia.” He scooped her room key out of the cup holder on the dash. “If you’re okay with that?”
“That would be great, actually.” She relaxed a little at the suggestion and backed the rental out of the gravel driveway. “This day has drained me.”
And tomorrow would be worse as the prosecuting attorney presented digital evidence of Covington’s cyber stalking pattern. Would it include transcripts of her exchanges with him when she thought Clay was on the other end of the messages?
She hoped she hadn’t taken on too much this trip. Just weathering the trial would have been a challenge. But stepping into Mia’s world had brought a whole new host of problems. While Gabriella felt compelled to help someone she’d invested in through her support group, she would have never guessed how deeply she’d be drawn into the teen’s tumultuous life.
“I’ll be back in less than an hour,” Clay assured her. “I’ll pick up some takeout from the pizza shop on my way. They have vegetarian options and you must be hungry.”
Was she? She’d been so caught up in the emotions of the day she hadn’t noticed.
“Thank you,” Gabriella said automatically. “And I can raid Zach’s kitchen for a few staples for the morning.” Or maybe she could ask Mia to go over to the main house and help herself.
Gabriella would have to get used to being home in stages. Staying in the in-law apartment was going to be close enough to the house for tonight.
Clayton pocketed her motel key as they neared the Chance residence. “I know you’re tired but I’m hoping wecan talk for a few minutes when I come back?” He glanced behind them into the backseat where Mia had retreated under the hoodie. “I’d like to make a plan for the next few days.”
It was a totally reasonable expectation. She’d jumped into his world, too, when she’d taken Mia under her wing.
But there was a whole lot more to her relationship with Clayton Travers than a shared interest in his half sister. She had held hands with him all throughout the trial today like her life depended on the connection. Maybe he wanted to clarify where they stood with one another.
Or maybe he wanted to act on the attraction that pulled her toward him despite everything falling apart around them. She didn’t know and couldn’t guess. But out of all the things that rattled her today, the idea of Clayton kissing her wasn’t one of them. If anything, the thought of his arms around her made her heart skip a beat, just like it had a long time ago.
Mia tried toremind herself she’d been in worse prisons than this.
Locking the door to her temporary bedroom, she dropped her paper plate of pizza on the wooden nightstand beside a plastic plant with peach-colored flowers. The whole apartment—what she’d seen of it—was bigger than Pete’s house. The place was undergoing remodeling, apparently, because the downstairs was great. But her bedroom was decorated in earth tones in a style that wasn’t “vintage” enough to be vintage. Or at least, it wasn’t cool like Erin Finley’s store. The bedroom was kind of like taking a walkthrough your grandma’s house if your grandma had boring taste and a love of olive-green.
Which Mia did not.
