Olivia
The next day, Bettina colors her Frozen book at the table as I top and tail the beans for supper. I still can’t look her brother in the eye, and we haven’t said two words to each other since the incredible sex at the very table I’m leaning on. Josiah is helping August in the front yard, and Bett has been talking my ear off. From outside, the crunch of tires over the unsealed drive can be heard. I glance at the clock and wonder who could be calling right on supper time, and then when I hear the sheriff and Josiah raising their voices, fear twists my stomach.
I wipe my hands on a dish towel and glance at Bett. “Honey, can you take these things on up to your room?”
“But you said I could help you.”
“And you can, but I need a clear table, and I need to talk to the sheriff with your brother first, okay?”
“Ohwkay, Wivvie,” she mumbles and slides off the chair, carrying her coloring upstairs to her room. I take a deep breath and head outside. August is shouting now too, his face red, and his strong features pulled into an angry expression.
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. That woman’s done nothing but good for Josiah since you introduced them. Hell, all she’s done from the second she arrived is give her free time, her heart, to everyone who needed it, and now you come out here accusing her of something sick and vile? She looks on both of those boys like sons, and you’re damn lucky she does, or you’d probably be a nephew short. You make him go back to that house, and that’s what you’re handing him—a death sentence. Either he comes out of there in a body bag or wearing cuffs as he’s carted off to jail.”
“You ain’t family,” she snaps, and her gaze shoots to me as the screen door slams closed. “You got no hold on him. You ain’t blood, and you’re never gonna be blood.”
“I ain’t going back there,” Josiah says.
“Then you’ll come stay with me. It ain’t right you living out here with a bunch of white folk you barely know.”
“For how long?” Josiah says. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, and his eyes glisten with unshed tears. “You told me I could live with you before, and I was right back home the very next day.”
“I know you don’t like it, but he’s your daddy,” Shona says. “You’re a minor, and he’s your legal guardian. If he wants you home, then the law says I gotta take you home.”
“And what does the law say about a man beating his son bloody, huh?” I demand, fighting back my own tears of frustration. “What about that? You saw his face. You saw my face—you know what he did.”
“All I know is that you didn’t report it,” she snaps.
“Because he was frightened you’d send him back,” August says, shaking his head.
“And if I had reported it, what then? Would Cole be behind bars? Or would he still be terrorizing his son and dealing drugs to the neighborhood?”
“Miss Anders, I think you best be quiet now. You got enough to worry about with what people are sayin’ around here about you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Turns out I’m not the only one thinkin’ it’s a little odd that you’re keeping company with young boys and strange men.”
I clench my jaw tightly to keep from lashing out at her and calling her every damn name under the sun. She just smirks and laughs, but it’s August who surprises me by yelling. “That’s enough. This is bullshit, Shona. You know there’s nothing going on here. We’re just helping the kid out of a rough patch.”
“All I know is he ain’t family. He’s my family, and we don’t need your handouts. Josiah, go on and collect your things.”
I wanna wipe the sneer clean off her face. “No. He’s not going anywhere.” Josiah makes to head inside, and I grab his arm and clutch him to me. “You don’t have to go.”
“Yeah, I do.” A tear runs down his face unchecked, and the lump in my throat becomes impossible to swallow. My own tears burst free, and this kid, this seventeen-year-old who’s impacted my life in ways I never imagined, gives me a reassuring smile. “Don’t you worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
Josiah hurries inside.
“You can’t do this,” I beg of the sheriff, placing my hand on her shoulder as she turns to head back to the cruiser. She glances at my hand and gives me a look that says I better remove it before she moves me to the back of her squad car. “He can’t go back to that house.”
“Take your hands off of me,” she says, slowly. Her voice is calm, but a fire rages in her eyes. I do as she asks.
A few moments later, Josiah comes back with his belongings hastily shoved inside the backpack I bought him. I grab his hand as he walks by. “You don’t have to go.”
“Yeah, I do. Thanks, though.” He gives me a sad smile and glances at August. “Both of you.”
He climbs in the cruiser and doesn’t look back.
Shona slips into the driver’s seat and pulls away, tearing down the drive almost triumphantly. I watch the taillights get smaller in the evening light, farther away, and when she pulls out onto the road, I collapse in a sobbing heap on the ground. The blood whooshes in my ears; my face burns. August’s big arms wrap around me from behind, and he pulls me up against him, my back to his front. He tucks his head in against my neck, and I sob uncontrollably. I feel like a mother whose baby was just snatched from her arms and who was told she’ll never see him again. I know it isn’t the same thing. I know he’ll be okay, as long as he stays with his aunt, he’ll be okay, but I also believe she has no intention of keeping him. And that’s what hurts the most, because we may not be blood, I may have no legal rights to him, but that boy is family. He’s as much a part of me now as August and Bettina are.
“Come on, now. He’s gonna be okay,” August whispers against my ear. “You did what you could for him. You gave that kid a purpose, and you believed in him when no one else did.”
“I should have fought harder. I should have made him stay. I should have knocked her on her damn ass.”
“And you would have gone to jail for it.”
“So what? At least he’d be here, safe. Away from that monster.”
“I can’t have you locked up in a jail cell.” He turns me to face him and wipes the tears from off my cheeks. “We need you here. Bett needs you. Those dogs need you. I need you.” He takes my face in his big hands and presses a kiss to my forehead. I close my eyes and lean in against his warmth. Sweat trickles down my spine, and I feel as if I’m running a fever, but I stay wrapped in his embrace because those three little words mean everything to me. I need you.
He needs me, just like I need him. Every cell in my body wishes that were enough.