Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Thankfully, that’s when my brother arrives. Later, I’ll wonder how Cole timed that so perfectly. But right now, I’m glad he’s here and four officers are streaming in behind him.
“That’s him. Austin Collins.” He’s directing the police around like he’s in charge of them, which is a dangerous game to play, but they seem on board with whatever he wants, and two officers grab Austin and spin him around, yanking his hands behind his back.
“Rye, tell them this is all a misunderstanding. It don’t need to be like this,” he pleads.
“It was always going to end like this,” she tells him woodenly. Whatever adrenaline she’s been running on is spent, and she’s starting to sag.
I should go to her. I know I should, but my tunnel vision hasn’t cleared and there’s still one thing I have to do. “I need to get Grace.”
“Grace!” Riley exclaims. “She’s okay, right?”
She starts to go with me, but one of the police call her back. “Ma’am, we have questions for you.” She freezes, obviously torn, but I wave her toward the officer.
I need to see my daughter, need to see with my own eyes that she’s truly okay. Taking the stairs two at a time, I force myself to slow as I open her door, not wanting to scare her any further. “Grace? It’s me, Dad. You’re safe to come out now.”
Her bathroom door flies open and she throws herself at me. “Dad! You’re here! Ohmygod, I was so scared! What happened? Is Riley okay? Is Uncle Cole here? Did I hear police sirens?”
Every word is another stab to my heart. My baby girl, my precious baby girl who means everything to me, is terrified and burying herself against my chest and climbing into my arms like a toddler.
I run my hand over her curls, soothing her. “Shh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re safe.”
In my chest, my heart is pounding hard and fast. This could’ve gone so differently. It could’ve been so much worse.
It could’ve been loss all over again. Only it would’ve been even worse this time.
“You sure you’re good?” Cole asks me. It’s at least the third time he’s asked and he’s still hovering near the door like he doesn’t feel good about leaving me. That’s sign enough that I don’t look well.
“Yeah. Fine. Just need to talk,” I tell him, my voice flat, even to my own ears.
He glances from me to Riley, who’s curled up on the couch in the family room. After the police left with Austin, promising a laundry list of charges against him, she stood in the doorway of the formal living room and stared at the couch in there for a few minutes, her eyes vacant. Suddenly, like someone hit fast-forward on a remote, she’d leapt into action, grabbing a rag and cleaner and scrubbing the coffee table glass like it’d mortally offended her. Janey, who arrived not long after Cole, finally had to take the supplies from her and push her into the family room, tucking her into a corner of the couch, laying a blanket over her, and making her tea. Riley’s still holding the mug, but I don’t think she’s taken a single sip of her favorite chamomile.
“Alright, we’ve got Grace for as long as you need us to. Even overnight if you want,” he offers, but I shake my head. I won’t be able to sleep without her being under the same roof as I am. Hell, I might sleep outside her door tonight just so I can peek in every once in a while and be sure she’s still safe.
I hear the front door close but stand here frozen like a statue, just staring at Riley. Confusion swirls in my head, but the thing that keeps resonating through the fog is Grace’s voice on the phone. She was so scared, and I felt so useless and far away.
“What happened,” I grit out. It should be a question. It’s absolutely an order to tell me everything.
Riley flinches as her eyes jump up to mine. And while I’m sure mine are as cold as I feel on the inside, hers are red-rimmed and puffy from the tears that came after they escorted Austin out. If I had to guess, I don’t think she wanted him to witness her falling apart, staying strong until he couldn’t see her anymore. “You might as well sit down. It’s a long story.” She sighs miserably.
I inhale sharply, trying to keep myself under control. But I do sit down… several cushions away from Riley, perched on the edge of the couch, with my elbows on my knees.
“I told you I ran away from my last foster home. That was Austin’s. I was sixteen. But before I left, he and Beth adopted me.” She swallows roughly, and I vaguely wish she’d take a sip of tea, but she doesn’t. And like she wants the pain, she does it again, swallowing any further explanation.