Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
Boone
I’ve said a lot of things in my life that I didn’t think through.
I told a girl I loved her after having sex with her on a pier.
I told my father to shut up. I also made straight A’s one grading period my freshman year without considering that my mother would expect such greatness on the regular.
Immediately following each of those events, I had an oh, shit moment, and the world felt like it was crashing down on me.
That time with my dad? It kind of did.
But the one thing I’ve never done—not even got close to doing by accident—is offering a woman to stay with me. A night? Sure. A weekend? Occasionally. But an open-ended commitment that I verbalize to a third party, for fuck’s sake?
With. A. Child?
Never.
She lives with me.
My words ricochet through my brain. I sit perfectly still and await a rush of alarm to sweep through my body. I search Jaxi’s wide and slightly panicked eyes and hold my breath.
Shera smiles at me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”
“I’m Boone Mason.”
“Great,” Shera says, satisfied. “Let me grab some papers that we’ll need you to sign, and I’ll get the child.” She heads for the door. “She is such a delight. I’d take her home myself if I could.”
Jaxi forces a swallow. “Thank you.”
The door squeals and then clicks shut again. The sound echoes around the room.
Jaxi collapses back into her chair. Her shoulders slump forward as she bites the inside of her lip. I can’t imagine what she must be thinking.
She sucks in a deep breath that shakes when she releases it.
“Are you okay?” I ask her. “That was a lot of information to throw at you.”
“I don’t know where to start in trying to wrap my brain around this.”
Her voice is weary but also resigned. She’s stuck—not just with the kid now but with me, at least for a while. And despite being fully cognizant that this whole thing might just blow up into a freaking nightmare, the alarm bells haven’t sounded in my head. Yet.
I’m fairly certain they’re blasting in hers, though. How could they not be?
“I’m sorry about your sister,” I say. “I can’t imagine what you must be thinking.”
“Thanks. I … I wish that I would’ve known her better. She was just so much older than me.” She gazes into the distance. “We bonded over our hatred of our stepfather when I was a little girl. But then she left, and I was still so young that … I guess I didn’t really matter to her, you know?”
Her jaw sets.
“I bet that’s not true at all,” I contend. “She probably just had to focus on her life and lost track of things.”
It’s a shitty response, a pathetic explanation for a woman who walked away from her family. But I wasn’t there, and I don’t know what happened so that’s the best excuse I can make for Jeanette.
“Yeah …” Her voice trails off. “You’re right. I mean, look at me. I lost track of my life and look where I ended up. I now have a child I’m responsible for and am squatting in a man’s house that I only met a couple of days ago. Fun times.”
“If you don’t want to stay with me, you don’t have to,” I tell her. “I know I blurted that out, but I didn’t know what else to say.”
None of this is coming out right. None of this is helping.
I twist in my seat to face her. “What I mean is that I kind of just said that because I know you don’t really have a permanent place, and I saw the panic and didn’t want them telling you that they couldn’t place the kid with you because of it.
I was just trying to help, and I’m sorry if I just complicated things. ”
She nods as she turns toward me too. “I appreciate you doing that.” She smiles faintly. “It seems like you just keep bailing me out of problem after problem, huh?”
I smirk. “I have always seen myself as a hero.”
This gets a real smile from her. That, in turn, gets me a reprieve from the tightness in my chest.
“I hate seeing myself as some damsel in distress,” she says.
“We all go through times in our lives when we need help. My grandma Annabelle used to tell us that if we didn’t help when we were needed, no one would be there to help us when we were down. That the universe took notes.”
She sighs. “Then you have some favors coming, buddy.”
The room grows quiet. The only sounds are the ones from the hallway outside. Each noise—clamoring of keys or buzzing of alarms—seems to be miniature reminders that we’re in a police station.
“Hey,” I say. “Did you lock Libby’s door?”
“I have no idea. I don’t think so.” She laughs sadly. “She’s probably going to get robbed, and that will be my fault.”
“It’s probably a stroke of luck.” I dig my phone out of my pocket. “Have you ever dealt with an insurance company? I mean, I haven’t, but I hear it’s a shit show. If he gets robbed, I’d venture to say that’s the universe taking notes.”
“Shit.” She sits upright. “I was supposed to get Libby’s stuff out of there before he gets back.”
She looks at the ceiling and pretends to cry. I’m not sure how far off from it she really is. I can deal with a lot of things in life, but a woman’s tears aren’t one of them.
“I’m going to have my cousin’s boyfriend run over there and get the stuff Libby wanted,” I say. “Can you tell me what all that was?”
Jaxi closes her eyes and rattles off a small list of items. “That’s it. Can he go soon? I don’t know what time Ted will be back.”
“I’ll see.”
I get to my feet and walk to the back corner of the room. I press Hollis’s number.
“Hey, man,” he says on the first ring. “What’s going on?”
“Hey, Hollis. I need a favor, if you’re not busy.”
“Shoot.”
I rub a hand down my face. Jaxi sits facing the opposite direction with her phone in her hands too. Her fingers fly across the screen in a wild spectacle.
“Do you remember Libby?” I ask Hollis. “She made homemade ice cream for us when we were cleaning out the garage.”
“Yup.”
“Long story, but I need you to go to her house and grab a trunk in the master bedroom. There may or may not be a Bible lying around. If you see it, take it too. Oh, and take Riss with you. Have her fill the suitcases under the master bed with some of Libby’s clothes and take all of that to my house.
Riss knows the security code to my door.
Libby’s is not locked. And I’d appreciate it if you could do this now. ”
He whistles through his teeth. “Okay. Do I wanna know, or is this one of those things we’re never talking about again?”
I chuckle. “Thanks, man.”
“I got you. I’ll fire you a text when it’s done.” He laughs. “This sounds so mafia.”
I snort. “Well, considering that I’m standing in a police station right now, let’s not say trigger words, okay?”
“Are you serious? What’s going on, Boone?”
“It’s fine. Everything is fine. I’ll explain later. Thanks for helping me out.”
“Yeah. Of course. Call me later.”
“I will. Thanks, Hollis.”
I end the call.
“Hollis and Larissa are going to go over there now,” I tell Jaxi as I make my way back to my seat.
“Thank you.” She sets her phone on her lap. “Look, Boone, I don’t know what’s going to happen. I didn’t plan for this. Clearly. But I promise that I’ll get a plan together soon and get out of your hair.”
I study the woman in front of me. The fear and dread etched in her features cuts through me like a hot knife. If I were her, I’d be calling my mom. But it seems like she only has me.
“If you cased my house out correctly,” I tease, “you’d know I have two extra bedrooms.”
She tries not to laugh but can’t help it. The sound eases both of our minds, I think.
“I’m not a good problem solver,” I tell her. “I go to my brothers when I really get my shit fucked up. But I think Wade would tell me to take this problem in sections and deal with it one part at a time. Wade is a pretty smart guy.”
She looks at the door. “That’s good advice, and I’m sure Wade is an intelligent man, but what am I going to do with a little girl? I can barely take care of myself.”
Fuck if I know.
I try to imagine something happening to Coy and me getting saddled with his kid. I’d take it, without a doubt. There would be zero hesitation. But then what? I’d call Mom. And she’d guide me every step of the way.
The thought terrifies me—for theoretical me and Coy’s kid that doesn’t exist at the moment.
“You’ll figure it out,” I say. “You don’t really have a choice.”
A pop of disbelief is shot through the air. “Gee, thanks.”
“Want me to lie to you?”
“Right now? Yes.” She laughs. “Please lie to me. Tell me I’ll know what to do. Tell me that I’m going to have all the answers and can find a place for us to live and a car and a job and health insurance …”
Her breathing takes a quick leap, her chest rising and falling like she’s running a mile.
“I’m fucked. I’m so fucked,” she says, teetering on a wail.
Her panic drives my panic. I watch her slowly unravel in front of me, and I don’t know how to stop it. I just know I have to try.
Without thinking, I stand and then squat down next to her. I wrap an arm around her narrow shoulders and pull her gently into me.
She stiffens for the briefest of seconds before letting her head rest against my shoulder.
A lump settles in my throat, and I’m not sure why.
I’m not sure what to do or say, nor do I know what happens next. What I do know is that I put myself into this situation, I’m not mad about it, and I just have to figure out how to help.
“Wade would say to start at the top,” I whisper to her, wrapping my other arm around her too.
I close my eyes and try to stay focused on helping her and not the way she melts into my body. I fight the urge to breathe in her raspberry scent and stroke the small of her back. Instead, I just try to show her that she’s not alone.
“We handled Libby’s stuff,” I say. “The next thing is getting your sister’s daughter and dealing with the paperwork. Right now, you have a place to stay. Let’s just get through the day, okay?”
“I’m so sorry for bringing you into this,” she says against my shoulder.