When Love Is All You Have (Callahan Brothers #1)

Ten Years Ago

Danielle

Ignoring the sound of my own heartbeat galloping in my ears, I kneel beside the bed.

"Izzy, wake up." I gently nudge my four-year-old sister, trying to pull her out of sleep. She's warm and cocooned in her blankets, her tiny body curled into itself for safety, her golden curls clinging damply to her forehead.

Izzy rubs her eyes and turns over, burying herself deeper into the covers.

"No, baby, you have to wake up," I whisper, nudging her again, softer this time. "Remember how we talked about this last night? Do you remember packing?"

"I'm sleepy, Sissy," she mumbles, her voice thick with exhaustion. "I don't wanna go."

She doesn't want to go.

This is our fifth foster home in four years—always staying just long enough to start believing we might be okay, but never long enough to truly feel safe.

Duke, our current foster father, is cruel. His wife, Jaime, is too scared of him to lift a finger when he loses his temper, and it’s always me who pays the price.

I reach up, my fingers brushing the tender bruise blooming across my cheekbone. Last night was the last time I'd let that monster lay a hand on me, or my sister.

"Izzy, we have to go," I whisper, my voice tight with urgency. I nudge her again, careful to keep my movements quiet. The seven beers Duke downed last night worked in our favor, but Jaime is a light sleeper. One wrong noise, and this chance is gone.

"Come on," I coax, lifting Izzy and sitting her up, slipping her small feet into her tennis shoes. Last night, when I tucked her in, I hadn’t changed her into pajamas. I kept her dressed in her clothes from the day so she'd be ready when it was time to run.

Now is the time.

***

The early morning dew clings to every surface as we slip out the back door.

I reach instinctively for the front pocket of my backpack, my fingers brushing against the envelope stuffed with the four hundred and thirty dollars we’ve scraped together—our entire fortune, saved from ten long months of allowances with the Wilburns.

"I'm cold, Dani," Izzy murmurs, her voice small against the heavy silence. Her little hand is wrapped tightly in mine as we hurry down the sidewalk.

The first bus to Indianapolis leaves at six. If we're lucky, the Wilburns won't even notice we're gone until we're long out of reach.

"If we walk a little faster, we'll warm up," I tell her, picking up the pace, my heart thudding harder with every step.

I glance over my shoulder for the tenth time checking to make sure Duke's truck isn't tailing us.

We're still twenty minutes out from the station. Meaning it would only take Duke five to find us if he realized we were gone.

We can't stop. Not for anything.

***

I breathe a shaky sigh of relief when the familiar Greyhound building comes into view. We're almost there.

I glance over my shoulder, and my heart sinks. A police car is heading straight toward us, its headlights cutting through the misty dark.

It's not even five o'clock in the morning. No way will they just let a teenager and a toddler wander by without stopping.

I squeeze Izzy’s hand tighter, bracing myself as the cruiser slows to a crawl beside us.

There’s no way we’re getting past them unnoticed.

I keep my eyes forward and my steps steady, forcing myself to move like I belong out here.

The unmistakable whir of a window rolling down cuts through the morning stillness.

I glance over briefly, forcing a tentative smile.

"Good morning," the officer says.

"Good morning," I answer, fighting the instinct to grab Izzy and run.

"Where are you headed?" he asks, his tone easy, almost friendly.

"We're catching the six o'clock bus to Indianapolis," I say, keeping my voice steady.

"The two of you? All by yourselves?"

"We're going to visit our grandpa," I say without hesitation.

His eyes narrow slightly. "Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," I say, the words bitter in my mouth. I hope he’ll take pity on a couple of orphans and just let us go.

He hesitates. "I'm sorry to hear that. Would you mind stopping for a second?"

Panic claws at my throat.

"My sister has to go pee," I blurt. "We need to get to the station quick."

"I don't have to pee," Izzy pipes up brightly.

My heart drops straight to the pavement.

"What's your name, young lady?" he asks.

"Dani," I say, squaring my shoulders and bracing for what I know is coming.

"Dani," he repeats, his voice a little firmer now. "I need you to stop walking. I have a few questions."

"We really have to get going," I say, my voice thin and shaky as I struggle to remain calm.

"I need you to stop so we can talk," he says again, this time cutting the engine and stepping out of the cruiser.

We keep moving.

"Dani," he calls, sharper now, footsteps crunching after us.

Over the thundering of my heart, I hear it—the sharp slam of another car door.

There’s two of them.

I feel the first tear slip down my cheek before I even realize I’m crying.

"Dani?" Izzy’s tiny voice trembles beside me, full of a question I don’t have an answer to. What’s happening?

I tighten my grip on her hand, wishing I could protect her from everything.

"Dani." A different voice slices through the tension, cutting across the distance between us.

Izzy and I keep moving, each step bringing us closer to the station. I can see it now, the door, the buses parked in the back. We’re almost there.

"Keep walking, Izzy," I say, forcing my voice to stay steady, to sound stronger than I feel.

"They're calling your name," Izzy whispers, her voice full of confusion as she glances over her shoulder.

"Dani, stop!"

The second officer’s voice is deeper, louder, cutting through the air like a command rather than a request.

"Dani?" Izzy shrieks, fear tightening around the word.

"It’s okay, Baby," I say, my voice strained, desperate. "Just keep walking."

I glance over my shoulder just as the younger officer breaks into a slow jog toward us, his footsteps pounding in the silence.

"Izzy," I whisper, my heart pounding as I pick up the pace. "Run!"

"She's running!" I hear the first officer shout, his voice gaining ground as he, too, begins to run. The pounding of footsteps behind us grows louder. Izzy and I sprint together, the front door of the building barely ahead.

We're about a hundred feet away when I see a strong arm wrap around Izzy, yanking her away from me.

"Let go of her!" I scream, my voice raw with desperation.

In seconds, the older officer is there, too. I watch in horror as my baby sister is handed off to him like a quarterback making a pass, my heart breaking with every second.

They're pulling her away from me, and within moments, my hand slips from hers.

"No!" I scream, my voice cracking. "She's my sister!"

The younger officer steps in close, grabbing my arm with a tight grip. "Why did you run?" he asks, his voice annoyingly calm. "Calm down so we can talk."

His calmness only fuels the fire inside me, my rage boiling over in waves.

"Let me go!" I demand, struggling against his hold. "Let us go!"

Izzy is crying now. Big, round tears streak down her face, her tiny hands reaching for me, but the cop’s grip on her won’t loosen.

"How old are you?" the officer asks, his fingers digging into my skin. "Are you a runaway?"

"Let go of me!" I scream, my chest tightening, suffocating with the weight of fear and anger. Tears blur my vision, and my heart hammers in my ears.

Through the haze of panic, I see the first officer walking away with Izzy in his arms.

"No, no, please!" I beg, my voice breaking. "Don't take my sister. Bring her back. Bring her back!"

But my pleas are drowned out by the distance growing between us. Before I can think twice, I sink my teeth into the officer’s forearm, biting down hard. I feel the skin tear and the rush of warm blood in my mouth. For one fleeting moment, he releases me. That’s all I need.

I dash toward Izzy, launching myself at the cop carrying her away. I claw, scratch, pull at his hair, anything to get him to let her go. But with a swift motion, he pushes me off like I’m nothing.

I feel my body lift off the ground, flying through the air in slow motion, Izzy’s panicked screams slicing through the chaos.

I hit the pavement hard, my head cracking against the concrete with a sickening thud.

The world spins. My vision blurs. Pain explodes through my skull, then everything begins to fade.

Through the haze, I see the officer I bit kneeling beside me, his face a mask of concern, blood streaming from his arm.

"Bring her back, please," I whisper. "She's all I have."

And just before everything goes black, I catch one last thing—the name on his badge: Callahan.