Officer Wagner freed the handcuffs from his belt. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Sebastian and Mr. Hawthorne helped move Wes into the back of the squad car.
Leah’s knees felt liquid. “Let’s all sit down for a minute,” she said to the kids, “and catch our breath until the police officer is ready to speak with us.” She sat heavily on the grass.
The kids plopped around her.
It didn’t take long before the officer began asking them questions. While they answered, Sebastian stood several yards to the side, alone. The long-sleeved work-out shirt he wore with scrub pants emphasized his muscled shoulders. Arms crossed, features granite-hard, he peered at the street . . . though he didn’t appear to be registering anything at all.
“Can you please contact your mom for me and explain to her what’s happened?” Officer Wagner asked Claire.
The teen nodded and brought her mom up to speed with a quick and hushed conversation. “She’ll be here in about thirty minutes to pick us up,” Claire told the officer.
“Good. I’ll take Mr. Dobney to the station.” He looked between Leah and Mr. Hawthorne. “Can one of you stay with the children until their mother arrives?”
“I’d be happy to,” Mr. Hawthorne said. “I know the kids well. My wife and I have lived next door for ten years.”
“Is that okay with all of you?” the officer asked the four children.
“Definitely,” Claire told him.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. Let your mother know that she can reach me by calling the station.” He drove off, Wes a hulking figure in his back seat.
One by one, they stood. When Mr. Hawthorne approached Mason to have a look at his injury, Claire drew near Leah. “Thank you.” Her mouth trembled. “Thank you for coming to help us.”
“You’re welcome. How your father treated you just now . . . it’s not acceptable or right. That’s not what love looks like.”
Claire nodded.
“Those of us at school,” Leah continued, “will team up with your mom to make sure you’re all safe and protected and cared for.”
“We’ll be good with my mom.”
“I’ll call and check on you tomorrow. If you need anything between now and then, let me know.”
“I will. Ms. Montgomery . . . I’m so, so sorry about this.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m glad that you texted me.”
“I’m really sorry, though.”
Mr. Hawthorne led Claire and her siblings inside, and Leah was left in the suddenly empty, silent front yard with Sebastian.
She’d seen a side of him just now that she’d known existed but hadn’t witnessed. Today, she’d glimpsed the tough foster kid who didn’t back down and wasn’t afraid to use his fists.
She placed herself directly in front of him and saw that a pink-and-red bruise stretched from near the corner of his eye across his temple. His pale gray irises glistened like jewels.
A wave of love rolled from her heart to the tips of her fingertips. She had no familiarity with falling in love. But because of her love for Dylan, Tess and Rudy, and others, she definitely did know what love was. She recognized the staunch commitment at its core. The fierce protectiveness. The willingness to sacrifice for the other. The determination to hold on.
Do the math, you ninny. You love him.
A tornado had formed within Sebastian back when Dylan had told him Leah’s location.
It was still spinning.
Still stirring up old terror and pain.
He studied Leah’s face. “Your cheek,” he said.
“Oh.” Her hand lifted to her swollen cheekbone. “Do I have a bruise?”
He dipped his chin, wanting to kill Claire’s dad. He’d arrived just in time to see the man clock Leah with his elbow. The sight had affected him like a body blow, and after that, he didn’t remember exiting his car or running forward.
She reached out and skated a fingertip across the throbbing skin next to his eye, leaving sparks. He inhaled raggedly.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Then so am I.”
“Thank you. For defending us.”
He didn’t reply.
She tucked her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Dylan. He checked his app and told me where you were.” Inside himself, he was fighting his temper with just as much strength as he’d used earlier with Claire’s dad. “Why did you come here?”
“Claire texted me and said that her dad was on a rampage. I called the police, but they were at the scene of an accident. I drove here and told Claire’s dad that I was scheduled to take the kids to the library.”
Nearby, a metal lawn chair lay on its side. It, and the situation he’d found when he’d arrived, gave evidence to the chaos that had resulted from her attempt to help.
“Claire’s dad wouldn’t allow Claire to leave with me,” she went on, “so Claire climbed out her window. Her dad caught us and dragged Claire toward the house.”
“At which time you confronted an abusive man who owns guns?”
“His other kids confronted him. I was just trying to keep everyone safe.”
“You could have been hurt badly.”
“And yet, look.” She spread her hands. “I’m fine.”
“You could have been hurt badly,” he repeated.
“But I wasn’t.”
“But you could have been.”
A short pause. “You . . . might be reacting slightly overprotectively.” Her tone was mild.
She was accusing him of being overprotective? That was rich. She wouldn’t allow her brother two seconds of freedom. Yet he was supposed to be fine with watching her get whacked in the face by an enraged man?
“In the end, things worked out well,” she said. “You told me that you’re okay. The kids are okay. I’m okay. I stand behind my decision to intervene.”
“Even though you promised me that you wouldn’t come here alone?”
“I take promises seriously, and I’m sorry that I broke my promise to you. But I couldn’t leave the kids to fend for themselves.”
He had zero tolerance for broken promises. “You promised me, Leah.”
“Today’s situation forced me to go back on that promise for the greater good.”
“That’s a cop-out.” Frustration tightened his words. It was hard to think straight, to speak. This is why he didn’t trust people. This is why he shouldn’t have trusted her.
His mom had failed to keep her promise when she’d told him she’d recover. Her death had stripped him of family and security. It had wrecked his life and his faith in people. It had taught him that the safest course was to depend on himself. So why had he strayed from that?
He’d strayed from that because he’d been unable to resist Leah. “I have to step back from this relationship,” he stated.
She flinched. Wind stirred through the strands of her hair. “Why?”
“I can’t get any more involved.”