After getting back here and getting Dottie settled, I’d started to make a plan on how to tackle Cal. It would have been slow, gathering information,evidencebut it would have freed Juni. But she didn’t need me to save her, she saved herself.
It’s a mess, but I’ll deal with it like I always do, and I still plan on destroying Calvin Scott. There’s just more anger there now, a debt to be paid for the mark he put on her skin.
But I can’t deny she was the last person I expected to find on my porch.
With a glance at the clock, I know it’s time I need to try and get some sleep so I can be somewhat refreshed for when my kids get home in the morning.
Getting up from the table, I head through to the spare bedroom opposite mine, pulling back the sheets and switch on the lamps before I tug the curtains closed. Returning to the living room, I move toward Juni softly and gently slip my arms beneath her, careful not to wake her as I lift and carry her toward the bedroom. She wakes, but barely, her lips moving on a mumble that I can’t make out, but once I get her down into the bed, she rolls over and curls back into that ball, making herself small again.
Fuck Calvin Scott for making her feel like she needs to do that. I pull the sheets over her, grab a couple of bottles of water from the fridge, and then click the door closed, crossing the hall to my own bedroom.
Groaning, I lower to the edge of the mattress.
I’m not sure how I’m meant to explain a new woman in this house to my kids. Despite there being nothing between us, I haven’t had a woman around Caleb or Rosie since their mother left them four years ago. Beth has been the only constant for them,and my son has only just started letting Niamh in. I know he won’t take Juni being here well.
Exhaustion has me flopping down onto my back, staring up at the dark ceiling. Eventually sleep finds me exactly like that, lying half on, half off the bed, and I know my back will not be thanking me in the morning.
Chapter Eleven
Morning light filters in through a small crack in curtains I don’t recognize. The bed is unfamiliar too; the colors of the walls… I thought I had maybe dreamed what I did last night, a hallucination brought on by being with Calvin a minute too long.
But I didn’t make it up.
I made it out. I ran away.
I saved myself.
My whole body aches, my cheek burns, the skin around the cut on my cheekbonefeeling tight and puffy. My feet don’t feel as bad as I thought they would. Small wins and all.
Beyond the closed door, I can hear voices, childlike, a sweet laugh that has me moving toward the door. Slowly, I turn the handle and open it a crack, peering out toward the living room at the front of the house. I spot blonde pigtails held up by bright pink bows, and next to the little girl, a young boy is watching her with eyes I have looked into before.
“There she is,” the same woman from the night before comes into view, her smile sinking dimples into her cheeks. I wet my lips and pull the door open wider, tugging on the hem of my shirt to bring it down to cover my shorts. I’m going to need to figure out the clothing situation pretty quickly, but I’m not sure how I’m going to manage that with no money.
That’s a problem I’ll have to tackle sooner rather than later, just not now when the two kids are staring at me along with Niamh. Silas steps away from the kitchen, his eyes dragging down me from behind his sister-in-law.
“Here,” Niamh grabs a small duffel from beside the couch, coming toward me, “Silas said you had to leave with nothing.”
I look toward my battered feet.
“Hey,” she touches my arm, “No, it’s okay. Should we go check that these all fit?” She glances behind me where I am still lingering in the threshold and I step back, Niamh following me in.
She closes the door behind her with a soft click and crosses over to the bed, placing the duffel on the mattress to unzip it. She pulls out several folded-up items of clothing, a mix of leggings, shorts, and dresses. “I have shoes too,” she says with her back to me. “But I’m not sure they’ll fit. What size are you?”
“Seven,” I rasp, my throat clogging up with so much emotion I’m finding it hard to breathe. Niamh swings her gaze to me, her face softening. Why are these people being so nice to me?
“They’ll fit,” she remains by the bed, watching me, but there’s understanding on her face. She may not know my story, but I assume she’s made a guess.
“Are you sure?” I blink away the burning in my eyes.
“Absolutely,” she grins, sinking dimples into her cheeks, “But we can also go shopping for some things for you.”
“Oh,” I shake my head. “Yeah, I can’t do that.”
Before she can ask why, a knock sounds on the door, though neither of us moves to open it, and I realize she’s waiting for me to. Springing into action so no one thinks I’m rude, I throw open the door, finding Silas on the other side. I can still hear the kids arguing in the front room about what show they’re going to watch over breakfast.
“They’re settled for now,” Silas explains, but I’m not entirely sure who he is talking to.
“Want me to…?” Niamh hangs the question in the air.
