Chapter 22
Zander woke me up when we finally got back to the house, having decided I could use the rest the car ride offered. We didn’t have very long before we needed to be out the door and on the way to the restaurant to meet Charlotte and her foster parents.
In my room, I skipped a shower for once and just freshened up. I decided that the jeans and T-shirt I wore to the school tour were good enough, so I headed back down to the kitchen to wait for Zander.
He’s sitting on one of the stools when I get there, none of his earlier sadness on his face, but all the same, I feel the need to comfort him now that I can.
With his back to me, it’s easy enough to slip into the room and wrap my arms around his waist without him even knowing.
When my arms snake around him, he doesn’t even startle.
Instead, he lays a hand over mine, which rests lower on his stomach.
With my chest pressed against his back, I lay my head on his shoulder blades, much like the first time I hugged Roderick.
As if thinking about him called him to me, Roderick walks through the basement door into the kitchen just then.
He looks over at us for a moment but doesn’t say anything.
I don’t move, even as I feel myself stiffen slightly under his gaze.
Zander must feel the difference because he lightly squeezes my hand, helping me relax again.
“Are we ready to go?” Roderick asks, and this time, I actually do pull back.
“Couldn’t let me have a fucking moment, huh?” Zander throws back.
“You’ve had more than a moment, Zander,” Roderick says. He almost sounds upset, which confuses me because I have no idea what they are talking about, and Roderick hardly shows his emotions so freely.
Zander must pick up on it, too, because his whole mood shifts, and he spins around to face Roderick with a smile. “Oh, Ricky! You sound a little green, big guy. Got something you want to share?”
Roderick’s eyes dart to me before they go back to Zander. His cold mask slips back into place, and this time, when he speaks, it’s in his usual calm and collected tone.
“We're going to be late,” he says, looking down at his watch. I look at the clock hanging over the fridge, and yeah, we are.
I throw Zander a look to let him know that this will be something we return to later, but he just shrugs at me, and I don’t know what the fuck that means. I also don’t have time to deal with that right now either.
Ugh.
“Okay, so are we going or not? I really don’t want to be late,” I tell Zander, hoping to get him moving.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, demon. We're going,” Spencer says as he strolls into the kitchen.
“What, we’re all going?” I ask, turning from Zander to Roderick, purposely avoiding looking at Spencer.
Roderick nods, “Yes, Kratos suggested we all go since this is the first time you will be around anyone from the ring, and if someone was going to make a move to get you back in, this might be an opportune time for them.” I hate that it’s a sound reason, but I also know that they all know I can defend myself just fine.
So why send useless bodyguards?
“With Charlotte being important to you, it would be easy for someone to use her to get to you. And while you can defend yourself, Kratos doesn’t put it past you to give yourself up if it means keeping her safe,” Roderick explains, and again, it’s not a wrong assumption.
“I can’t say that we disagree with that logic with what we know, so now it gets to be a group meal, which is fine because we know the Thompsons.
” He looks at me like he’s daring me to deny it, but I don’t.
It bugs me how easily they seem to be able to pick apart my line of thinking, but I let it go.
Them being there will also keep Charlotte better protected, and that alone helps me swallow my pride and simply nod in understanding.
Roderick seems thrown off for a moment by my easy acceptance before he nods back at me and heads out the garage door without another word.
Zander grabs my hand, and we follow him out with Spencer just a few steps behind us.
I can feel his eyes on me the whole way to the car, but I ignore him.
I might not love the feeling of his eyes burning into my skull, but I know he’s not a threat.
I also know that nothing pisses Spencer off more than me ignoring him.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy getting under his skin the same way he tries so hard to get under mine.
Roderick gets in the driver's seat, and Zander hops in the back. I make the choice to walk around and get in on the other side instead of sliding in after him. He looks confused but doesn’t say anything as I follow Spencer.
I don’t say a word, but when I step up behind him, I see his shoulders stiffen, and yeah, I might be enjoying this a little too much.
He gets in the car quicker than usual, and I feel the smile pull at my lips before I also climb in. Zander takes one look at me, and I see the understanding on his face, even without explanation. He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his side as we drive off.
“I love your wicked side,” he whispers in my ear for only me to hear, and I have to bite into my bottom lip to stop myself from gasping aloud at his words.
Nobody has ever said they love anything about me and been genuine, not since Ashlynn.
And while he might not be professing his love the way people do in romance movies, he just used that word and used it in relation to the worst part of me.
I turn to look up at him to ensure I’m not imagining this.
But, nope, there he is with a shit-eating grin as he looks at Spencer, whose body language is still stiff.
After a moment, he looks down at me, and his smile loses some of its usual homicidal edge.
With gentle fingers, he brushes my hair behind my ear before leaning in to rest his forehead on mine.
“Don’t look so surprised, Doll. Your crazy is one of my favorite things about you.
” He winks before turning back to face the front, sinking down into the seat as if what he said was no big deal.
But it is a big deal, and I'm pretty sure my heart just missed a few beats. Am I dying? I’m not sure what's going on in my chest right now, but it feels like it could explode.
I push the weird feelings aside for now and settle into his arms. I'm not sure what to make of them, but I know now isn’t the time to worry about it. We're going to see Charlotte, and she deserves my full attention. I can come back to this later…or not.
We make it to the restaurant pretty quickly. It’s somewhere I’ve never heard of, but that’s not surprising.
Roderick parks around the back, and the guys use the back entrance despite it saying staff only.
They don’t seem concerned, so I follow their lead and nobody so much as says a word as we walk through the kitchen.
We head down a hall that leads out into the main dining room to a room full of tables, though it doesn’t appear to be all that busy.
I don't even make it all the way into the room before I’m almost knocked off my feet.
Charlotte's tiny body slams into me as her arms snake around my body to squeeze me with much more force than I would have thought possible for someone her size.
Zander catches me and helps me steady myself from his place behind me, but I don’t even think about it before I drop to my knees and scoop her up into my arms.
Fuck, I missed her.
I’m not sure how long we hold each other, but as time ticks by, I’m more and more aware that we are in a very public place and probably drawing some attention.
Pulling back I quickly wipe away the few tears I felt escape from the overwhelming feeling of seeing her again. Charlotte looks up at me, and I’m not surprised to see tears running down her face, too. I wipe hers away as well, and she smiles up at me.
“I missed you, Jade,” she tells me, her voice breaking as she talks through her tears.
I brush her hair back out of her face, where it fell when she barrelled into me. “I missed you too, Charlotte.”
Pushing up from the ground, she releases her hold on my waist for a moment before she grabs my hand, dragging me along behind her. I glance back at Zander, and he gives me a nod as he walks a few steps behind us.
It’s not until we get to the table that I realize Roderick and Spencer have already made their way here, sitting with the Thompsons, who I’d met when they came to the station to pick Charlotte up.
Mrs. Thompson wipes her eyes as she watches us approach the table, and I fight the urge to duck my head in embarrassment. She no doubt saw that very public display of weakness, just like everyone else.
We make it to the table, and I attempt to stop, assuming we’ll sit together, but Charlotte continues pulling me right past them, and I find myself following her without question.
We end up at a smaller table against the far wall, about three tables over from her foster parents and the guys. Charlotte releases my hand before sitting, and I follow her lead, dropping into the chair across from her.
The moment I’m in the chair, Charlotte starts talking. She tells me everything I've missed while we’ve been separated, and I can’t help but eat up every word and detail she gives me.
She looks so happy, and while she goes on and on about her room, the stuff she has, and how great her foster parents are, I take a moment to look at her.
Her hair is down and curly. It looks healthier than I’ve ever seen it. I would often braid it back to keep it out of her face, but now that she's being taken care of, the curls are soft and springy instead of an unruly knotted mess full of frizz.