Page 101 of Resist

“I know, but Jenn said she was just having a rough time all around. Argumentative. Sad. Fighting everything and with everyone,” he says and puts a hand on the small of my back to lead me down the hallway opposite of where Lucy’s room is.

“Joey? Where are we—”

“She was screaming, keeping everybody up. Just when we thought we’d calmed her down, she’d start up again.” He points to a door that’s slightly ajar on the opposite side of the common area than her room. “She’s sleeping in there.”

“Why?”

“She was too loud in her normal room. We had to separate her from the rest of the kids because she kept waking them up.”

And if I thought my heart sank at the notion of Lucy sleeping all alone in this facility, it rips to shreds when I gently push open the door and see her. The room is painted a sunny yellow, but where the walls of her regular room here are covered with the comforts of home—princess posters and pictures of her in fun places and little things to remind her of her mom—this room is stark with vacant walls and nothing familiar to comfort. The bed has a plain white sheet on it compared to her frilly pink ones, and the blanket she has covering her is the only thing that’s hers. It’s a knit pastel and is the one her mom and I bought her the last time we went shopping together.

Tears sting as I think of the memory. Of swinging Lucy between us as we walked. Of the chocolate ice cream we shared. Of Lucy’s excitement over this blanket when she saw it.

It feels like forever ago and yesterday all at the same time.

I go to her. There is no hesitation, only love. The salt from her tears is dried on her cheeks, and her breath keeps hitching every few seconds as a reminder of the hysterics she went through without me here to comfort her.

The door at my back creaks, and I turn to see Joey there. “Was she with her dad last night?” I already know the answer. I already know she was and that she’s upset because he reminds her of her mom. His lack of love, attention, and patience often hurts her feelings. It reminds her of the nonstop fighting she grew up with and of the overheard accusations that she was the cause of all of their problems. I’m not sure if Lucy comprehends what he meant by that, but I know the fighting was enough to leave a lasting impression on her. An impression that oftentimes leaves her confused and combative in the following days after their visits.

“You know I can’t share that information with you,” he murmurs, seeming to forget he often tells me when they are visiting. But that information is divulged when he’s picking her up at my doorstep, not here under the ever-watchful eye of the government social workers.

“I’m sleeping here with her tonight,” I tell him.

“You know that’s not allowed.”

“Auntie?” Lucy’s sleep-drugged voice fills the room, and even though her eyes are closed and she’s probably still asleep, she reaches out and grabs my hand.

I bite back a sob at the ever-present need to protect her and lift my eyebrows when I look back to Joey. “Then I guess you’ll have to call the cops and kick me out.”

I know he’s still there when I toe off my shoes and carefully climb in bed beside her, but I don’t acknowledge his presence. My uniform isn’t the most comfortable of clothes to sleep in, and my makeup is still on and teeth aren’t brushed, but I don’t care.

I’m exactly where I need to be.

Wrapping my arm around her waist, I pull her in against me and just hold on tight. The door creaks again, and I know Joey has left me so I can be with my girl. I know he knows I’m what she needs right now.

And despite the exhaustion rioting through my body, I wonder how much heartache the human body can handle in a two-hour period. Ryker’s accusations return and hit my ears again. There was more to his words that the hurt wouldn’t let me grasp, more to his comments that my self-preservation shut down . . . but he still said them.

And I still have fallen for him.

I sniffle back the tears that spill over, trying not to wake Lucy up. I’ve already let her down once tonight by not being here when she needed me. I’ve already proven that my needs don’t matter and hers do. She needs to be my focus.

Once I adopt her, then I can think of myself.

With my lips pressed against her temple, I murmur, “I love you, Lucy Loo. I always have, and I always will.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Ryker

Night seeps into the day.

The day screams into the pounding headache I have that the empty bottle of Macallan on my counter can attest to.

And fuck if I’m not all kinds of worse for the wear.

How the hell did this happen?

Because you couldn’t get the words out right. Because you’re an inexperienced bastard when it comes to shit like this.