My cell phone is dead at the bottom, so after locating my charger and plugging it in beside the bed, I power it up.
I didn’t even consider everyone else when all of this was going on yesterday, but when my cell comes to life, so do a stream of missed calls and messages.
Mostly from Zayn.
Fuck. Zayn.
He would have been waiting for me after school. “Shit.”
I have message after message asking if I’m okay, wanting to know where I am, if I’m safe. Guilt swamps me that I didn’t even think about him yesterday. I guess it’s understandable given the circumstances but still, I feel awful.
But even still, I ignore his messages for now and focus on the one I want.
Hitting call on his name, I lift my cell to my ear.
It rings a few times before his sleepy voice croaks down the line.
“Poppy?”
“Shit, I’m sorry. What time is it?” I look around the room for the answer but find no clock. Pulling my cell away from my ear for a second, I find it’s not even seven a.m. yet.
“It’s okay. Where the hell are you? What’s going on?” he attempts to ask calmly, but I hear the fear in his voice.
“Mom and Dad got arrested.”
“Fuck. Where are you?”
“With Auntie Trish. The police and social services turned up at school. Thankfully, she agreed to take us all in otherwise…” I shudder, not wanting to think about the alternative.
“Jesus, Pops.” I can imagine him rubbing his hand down his face in concern. “What’s their address, I’m coming to you.”
“It’s okay, Jake. You’ve got school.”
“Poppy,” he warns, his voice low. It might scare other kids at school, but I know him better than that. “You need me, then I’m there. Send me the address,” he demands once more.
“Okay fine. But we’re fine, honestly.”
“I don’t care. I’m coming.”
Tears burn my eyes and emotion clogs my throat at his need to come and protect us. This is why I never told him about Preston. I know he’d do anything, even at the detriment to himself, to ensure my happiness and safety.
“T-thank you.”
“Aw, Pops,” he breathes when he hears the crack in my voice. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”
“Y-yeah. I’ll tell Auntie Trish you’re coming.”
“Everything’s going to be okay. I won’t have it any other way.”
I hang up the phone, engulfed by the silence of the house once more, but it feels that little bit easier to breathe now that I’ve spoken to Jake.
Squaring my shoulders, I leave my cell on the nightstand and rummage around in my bag for some fresh clothes and head for the bathroom and one very hot shower.
Auntie Trish and I are sitting on the porch watching the kids play when the rumble of an engine slowing down in front of the house has us both looking to the driveway.
Amalie’s little red sports car pulls up before both her and Jake climb out. Amalie hovers a little, whereas Jake flies at me, opening his arms and embracing me in a huge hug. The exact thing I needed.
I bury my face in his chest, breathing in his scent and allowing it to ground me.
“It’s going to be okay, Popsicle,” he whispers, using the nickname I hated as a kid, but right now it feels like the most normal part of my life.
After long minutes, he finally releases me, although I don’t get very far because he just tucks me into his side.
“Trish, it’s good to see you,” he says, nodding at my aunt. They’ve met a few times seeing as Jake has lived with us for years, but they’ve never really spent any time together seeing as they’re not related.
“You too, Jake. And who is this young lady?”
“This is my girl, Amalie. Brit,” he says, gesturing for her to join us. “This is Trish, Pops’ aunt.”
“Hey, it’s so nice to meet you.”
“Oh, you snagged a British, girl. Good on you, Jake.” Trish laughs. “Can I get you all drinks? Coffee?”
“Please.”
“We brought pastries,” Amalie says, lifting a bag I hadn’t noticed she was carrying. “We weren’t sure if…” She trails off.
“I’ll grab some plates.”
As we sit down, Austin and Sofia finally notice that we have company and come running over to see Jake. In seconds they’re each sitting on one of his knees and staring up at him like he hung the moon in the sky before driving over here.
We focus on the kids, laughing along with them, and ignoring the elephant in the room.
Auntie Trish brings out a tray full of coffee and plates for Amalie’s pastries before telling us that she’s going to leave us to it for a bit.
“Austin, Sofia, I’m going to make cookies, would you like to help?”
“Chocolate chip?” Sofia asks, jumping off Jake and following Auntie Trish.
“Can I lick the bowl?” Austin asks, trailing behind as if Auntie Trish is the Pied Piper.
“They’re so cute,” Amalie says, watching them disappear through the door.
“They’re good kids. They don’t deserve any of this.” I sigh, staring down at Cooper who’s happily sitting in his bouncer.
“What are you going to do?” Jake asks, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
“I would say wait and see if they get charged, but let’s be honest, we both know they’re guilty. Only an idiot would let them off.”
“I know. Fuck,” Jake barks, pushing to his feet and pacing back and forth across the porch.
Amalie reaches over and squeezes my hand in support.
“You can’t stay here, Pops. You belong in Rosewood.”
“I might not have a choice, Jake. I need to do what’s best for them.” I tilt my chin to the kitchen.
“I’ll be eighteen in a few months, maybe Auntie Trish could look after them until—”
“We can,” Jake shouts. “We’ll take custody of them. We’re old enough. Amalie has money, we’ve got a home.”
“Jake, no. You’re talking crazy. You can’t do that.”
“Why not? If it means you all stay together. If I get to keep the little family I have.”
My heart swells for him. Standing before him, I wait for him to get to me and reach out for his hand to make him stop.
“As much as I appreciate everything you’re saying. I can’t let you do that. You need to be thinking about your future, college, Amalie. You don’t need to be burdening yourself with my family.”
“I just—”
“I know, Jake. Trust me, I know. These kids have been like my own for years. I know you’re just as protective of all of us. But this isn’t your fight. It’s mine.”
“Ours,” he says, his lips twitching up into a smile.
He pulls me into his arms once more. I close my eyes for a beat, accepting his support. When I pull them open again, I find Auntie Trish watching us in the window with a smile on her face.
“Come on, the coffee is getting cold.”
We walk back over to join Amalie, who’s been silently watching the exchange between us.