“We’ve, uh, done as much as we can here, Julian.” He stood up. “I’ll get the maintenance crew to finish the job, while you…” He gestured with his head that Julian should take Petula out of the room.
Petula fully agreed. She had her release papers, was bone tired, and all she wanted to do was go home and hide under the covers. Which wouldn’t be an option for long. Statler was going to demand answers.
As if she’d conjured him, her brother came barreling through the door.
“Are you okay?” he asked, heading right for her and hunching down so they were eye-to-eye, as if he needed to see for himself that she hadn’t been harmed. Petula got that. It had been the two of them against the world for a very long time.
“Fine, Stat. Just…worn out. I want to go home.”
His face hardened. “Okay. But hear this, Petula. I couldn’t find him this time, but I swear that asshole will never get to you again. I?—”
He blinked down at the object she was holding, and an incredulousness came over his features. “Is that…?”
“Yeah,” Petula confirmed. “Jefferson gave him to me.”
“He…kept your stuffie, all these years?”
His face looked like it was about to crack.
“Yeah,” Petula attempted to soothe her brother. “He said it reminded him of me, and over the years, no matter who wanted to take it from him or how much shit he got for keeping it, he never let it go.”
Yeah.There’d been more said between her and Jefferson than she’d let on, but it washerconversation with Jeferson to hold close, and nobody else’s business.
Jefferson had, indeed, said he was sorry, and that he missed her, but he’d also reassured her he’d been able to get the help he needed in prison. For his schizophrenia.
It didn’t feel at all comforting that she’d been right about his condition.
Andthat he regretted being the catalyst for every horrible thing that had happened to her—in that household—after he’d…done what he’d done.
Petula had been taken aback by that, and had been in the middle of asking Jeff how he knew about her time in the Bothwin’s home, when Julian had rushed in.
But she thought she knew.
Jefferson had been a genius with his computer all those years ago, and she could only imagine he was more of an expert now. He’d most likely kept track of her from prison during those dark days, and despite two name changes, it hadn’t been much of a challenge for him to track her down.
But Statler…
The appearance of Bun-bun seemed to have taken the starch out of her normally skeptical brother.
“That’s…nice,” he finally said with a slight break in his voice. “I’m glad you have it back.”
He cleared his throat and stood up. “Let’s get the hell out of here, shall we?”
He offered his hand, and Petula took it.
There really was nothing else to be said at the moment.
Statler would want to hear her story over and over, once she was feeling up to it, but even he understood that now was not the time.
As the group of large men, Stat, Julian, Spence, and Trask, walked her to Statler’s truck, she overheard Stat and Julian, who were walking a few paces behind her now, discussing her safety.
They weren’t exactly trying to hide their conversation.
Julian was prodding Statler. “I think that once my house is fully furnished in a few days, Petula should come stay with me. It’s pretty obvious that Jefferson knows where you live, but I’ve been staying with my parents, so even if he’s followed me in the past few weeks, he thinks that’s where I hang my hat. With my new place—an address that isn’t on anybody’s radar yet—Petula will be much safer.”
“I see the logic in that,” Statler gave in, partially, “but I want my own eyes on her,” he rebutted.
Of course he did. Statler was a protector at heart, but so was Julian.
