My phone rings, and I instantly regret having to let go of Mom to answer it. Dylan’s name flashes up on the screen. “Hi, beautiful,” he says when I answer.
He makes me smile. “Hi.”
“I’m on my way over to your house.”
“Aren’t you at work?”
“I am, but I need to come over. Are your parents home?”
My stomach tightens, and a ball of steel drops in my stomach. He’s found something, and he’s coming to tell us. “Is everything okay? Dad’s at work, but Mom’s still here.”
“Can you ask her to stay please? Gemma did some digging and found something. I need to show you, and talk to you about it.”
I look over at Mom, and nod. “He’s found something,” I say to Mom while still holding the phone to my ear. “Mom and I are here. How long will you be?”
“I’m about fifteen minutes away. I’ll see you soon.”
Hanging up, I place my phone on the counter. “Dylan will be here in about fifteen minutes.”
Mom looks down at her mis-matched pajamas, and stands. “I’ll go get changed.” She leaves the kitchen, and I’m left alone with my wild thoughts. Zhen trots over to me, and rubs his body up against my leg. “I know, boy,” I say to him as I scratch his stomach.
Nervously, I pace the kitchen, waiting for Dylan to arrive. With every sound my heart skips a beat as I stop and wait for the knock on the door.
“I’ve called your father,” Mom says when she enters the kitchen, dressed in whatever her hands touched first. She doesn’t look like the graceful, fully put-together woman she usually is. She’s wearing sweats, and a t-shirt. Not her usual elegant style. “He’s on his way home from work.”
We’re expecting the worst. Something sinister lies beneath the surface. It’s bubbling away steadily, waiting to erupt.
I hear a car, and know it’s Dylan. Mom and I look to the door, and wait. There’s a knock. “Okay, it might not be bad,” I say to Mom.
“You’re right. Perhaps we’ve misjudged the boy, and…” she can’t finish the sentence.
“If we have, we’ll own up to it, and apologize for the intrusion into his personal life.”
“We will,” Mom says but her head is shaking.
I open the door. Zhen greets Dylan first. Dylan’s features are flat, and solemn. He has not come bearing good news. “Paris.” He gives Mom a curt head nod. “Sweetheart,” he says as he embraces me. He’s holding a tablet in his hand, and it brushes against me. It instantly feels like it’s made of hot iron, and weighs a thousand pounds, and all he’s doing is pressing the heat against my back while he hugs me. “I’m going to cut right to it. Can we sit?”
“In the dining room, Dylan,” Mom says as she walks ahead of him and takes a seat.
Dylan sits beside Mom, and indicates I should sit on the other side of him. “I’m not sure what Molly has told you, but my cousin, Gemma is a private investigator. She did a little digging and found some things on Preston and his family.” He taps the screen of the tablet, waking it. “I’ll give you a run down. First, Preston is an only child. His parents are lawyers, but their reputation isn’t as prestigious as Preston made out. Both his parents deal with the dubious kind of clients,” Dylan says grimacing.
I’m trying to read between the lines, but I’m not sure what he means. “As in… who?”
“As in people who contend they’re innocent, regardless of what they’ve done.”
“Aha,” Mom says, looking down at an image of Preston’s parents. His mom is in a pant-suit sipping a coffee, and his dad is walking beside her, dressed in nice slacks and a white button-down shirt.
“Now, Gemma found some information on Preston.”
“What information?” I eagerly ask.
“Two women have had restraining orders against him. Gemma tried to talk to them, but neither wanted to say anything against him. One is now living overseas in England, the other is on the opposite side of the country.”
I gulp, feeling sick to the stomach. “Why did they have a restraining order against him?” I’m not sure I’m prepared for the Dylan’s answer.
“He’s abusive.” He flicks to an image of one of the restraining orders.
“Abuse comes in many forms, what are we dealing with here?” Mom asks.
“Physical and mental. He degrades and hurts women.”
“Fuck,” Mom sighs as she covers her mouth in horror.
“Well, we have to get her away from him,” I say, trying to come up with a plan.
“Gemma also found some images of one of the women.” He flicks to a picture, and I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Vomit rises from my stomach. The various shades of blue and purple indicate fresh bruises, the enormous fat lip, the broken bone beneath the eyes. I can’t unsee the level of hatred he must have for this woman, whose face is virtually unrecognizable. “His parents are very good at getting him nothing more than a slap on the wrist.” I feel sick.
“I can’t deal with this,” I say as I look away from the horror of reality. “This is real. It’s not a damn movie, it’s real. And it’s my sister. Mom, we have to do something,” I plead.
“We will.” Mom looks distracted. I want to yell and scream, and lock Tina in her room until she comes to her senses. “Is there anything else?” Mom asks in a calm, almost subdued voice.
“Gemma’s going to keep digging. She’s going to try and ask the two women if she can hear their side of why they got a restraining order, but they’re not cooperating and for now, I don’t have anything else.” He takes a breath, powers down the tablet, and rubs his hand on my back. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of such awful news.”
“Please, Dylan, the fact you did this for us is incredibly generous. But I insist we pay your cousin.”
Dylan shakes his head. “She was happy to help.”
“Mom, we have to do something.”
“We will, we will. We just need to have a clear head, so your father and I can figure out how to talk to Tina about this. We don’t want to drive her away.” Mom stands and gives Dylan a small smile. Her eyes are red, and she’s on the brink of a meltdown. “Please excuse me, I need to call your father.” She doesn’t wait for an answer, she walks out, and heads up to her room.
“I’m so sorry,” Dylan says as he hugs me tight to his body.
“I have so many feelings conflicting with each other. I don’t know how to feel. I’m confused. What do I do, Dylan?”
He lets out a deep breath. “I’m not sure. You need to talk to your parents, and come up with something to keep Tina safe.”
“He’s a predator,” I whisper.
“He’s a monster,” Dylan replies.
Dylan keeps me close to him for a long time. My frantic brain settles, and I try to think of something I can say to Tina so she will see the danger for herself. I’m frightened I’ll lose her to him, terrified she’ll choose him over us. She can’t, not with what we know. I play with the pendant she gave me on our birthday, twirling it around my fingers, praying I can try and figure out a way to break her out of this toxic relationship.