Chapter 2 #2
Winston reaches over and rests his hand on Mom’s arm. His mouth is tight with anger, but he touches her carefully.
I drag both hands through my hair and pull until my scalp hurts.
The front door opens. “Kate, who the hell are those men outside?” Dad calls from the hallway.
Fuck.
I smooth my hair and try to make my face look like a person who has her shit together. His keys clink into the bowl by the door. I’ve heard that exact sound a thousand times, and it has never hurt before.
He stops in the living-room doorway. Mom sits on the couch with mascara beneath her eyes.
Winston looks ready to break something. Weller has positioned himself near the window.
Dad takes in all of it before his gaze finds me.
His expression softens. “Oh, Bianca. What are you doing here, honey? I wasn’t expecting you, but what a wonderful surprise. ”
He crosses the room and folds me into his arms, one hand cradling the back of my head the way he did during thunderstorms when I was small enough to climb into his lap. He smells like warm tobacco, with a hint of sweetness. Home.
“How are you feeling? You look?—”
He pulls back. His fingers brush the ends of my hair where it barely reaches my shoulders now.
“Your hair.”
“Yeah.” I force half a smile. “I thought it was time for a change.”
His hand lingers. “Who are those men outside? Are they from the facility? I keep telling your mother this is ridiculous. You should be home with us, not some sterile place like that. Do you want to be there?”
Before I can lie, he seems to notice Weller for the first time.
“Finally brought one of the boys home?” He tips his chin toward Weller. “Good to see you stepping up.”
“Sir.” Weller inclines his head.
Dad turns to Mom and finally registers that she’s still crying. “What’s going on, Kate? Someone tell me what I walked into here.”
She shakes her head and presses her lips together.
“Winston? Bianca?”
I know the words. I can’t be the one who puts them in this room.
He’s looking at me like I’m still his little girl. I don’t want to find out today whether he hugs me the same way once he knows.
“I just needed to see you and Mom.” I lift one shoulder.
Dad’s mouth flattens, but he doesn’t argue.
“Can we visit you?” he asks. “Where is this place you’ve been staying? I need a number. An address.”
My teeth grind together. I open my mouth, but nothing useful comes out.
Weller steps closer. “We’re staying with her, sir. We’re making sure she has everything she needs.”
Dad holds Weller’s gaze, then looks at me. “Okay,” he says slowly. “You’re staying for dinner, then. Can you spend the night?”
I want to say yes. I want to crawl into my bed under the glow-in-the-dark stars and pretend the last few years were one long, terrible dream. “I’d love to, but?—”
Someone knocks hard on the front door. “Ms. Quinn.” Ellis is back to professionally polite, rasp and all. A deeply irritating combination. “Your time is up.”
Dad’s body goes rigid. “Time is up?” He turns toward the door. “What the hell does that mean?” Another knock lands harder than the first. Dad yanks the door open. “Excuse me? My daughter isn’t going anywhere unless she wants to.”
I wish what I wanted mattered.
“Sir, your daughter is under supervised medical care. If she refuses transport, I’m required to report her as a danger to herself.”
I touch his arm, and he pulls me into a hug. “It’s okay,” I say. “I have to go, but I’ll come visit soon, I promise.”
“You better. We miss you. Winston convinced us you needed to heal on your own terms but please don’t go back to the woods. Come here.” He holds me tighter. “I love you, honeybee.”
He looks over my shoulder at Weller. “I want to sit down with you boys soon and have a proper conversation.”
I squeeze Dad’s shoulder and make myself step away. Mom rises when I approach, and I wrap my arms around her and feel her trembling.
“I’ll figure out how to tell him,” she whispers against my hair. “Let me handle that.”
I nod into her shoulder.
“Bianca, before you go...” Winston gestures toward the dim hallway beside the kitchen.
I follow him into the narrow laundry room. He pulls the door mostly closed behind us. The room smells like dryer sheets and old wood, so familiar that I stand there for a second and breathe it in greedily.
“I’ll get what we need for the blood tests,” he says quietly, his eyes kind. “And we’re getting you the fuck out of there. Everything’s almost set up. We found a place to hide you. Ezra and?—”
“Ezra? Is everyone at the refuge okay?”
“Keep your voice down. The refuge is fine.” He glances at the door. “Being watched, but fine.”
“No one has approached?”
“No, it’s an attempt to confine them so they don’t interfere with you. Pass a message to the guys - Mason is waiting to hear from them.”
“Wait.” I hold up a hand. “Mason? Why does it feel like there are a bunch of plans happening behind my back?”
Winston’s nose crinkles. “They didn’t tell you?”
“How long has everyone been conspiring behind my back?” I ask, looking at him incredulously. “I hate this. Just because I’m a girl, I’m out of the loop?”
“They’re trying to protect you, Bianca. They are insanely territorial now after losing you for five years.
Weller and Tristan coordinate with Ezra, Mason, and me.
We’ve been working together since you disappeared into that lunatic’s abyss.
We want to make sure we can hide you. They’ve been assuring me no one is physically hurting you.
We are getting money together - a safe house. ”
“Next time, don’t leave me in the dark, Win. The sentiment is sweet. But it really pisses me off.”
“I’ll tell you everything. Here.” Winston hands me a small black phone. “Do you think you can sneak this in? It would make coordinating easier if I had a way to contact you.”
I look at the phone, considering, then back at him. “They’re going to search us when we get back.”
“I figured.” He moves to put the phone back in his pocket, and I snatch it before he can.
“I need privacy.”
Winston’s face blanks, until I grab a plastic sandwich bag from a shelf and put the phone in it. Then the horror registers.
“That is...” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to know.”
“It’s not my first rodeo, big brother.”
He wraps both arms around me, and I hug him hard, pressing my cheek to his shoulder.
“Don’t make this weird. And, Win, I need you to stop.”
“Stop?”
I pull back. “Stop getting involved. The accident wasn’t that long ago. You have a baby coming... Clara needs you alive and in one piece.” I squeeze his arms. “You’ve done enough. This is enough.”
“I’m being careful, B, but I’m not going to sit on my ass and do nothing.”
Winston leaves, and I bag the phone and stuff it in my underwear, tucking it as high and close against me as I can. Fucking ouch. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s the best I can do on short notice.
Through the front window, a second SUV has pulled in behind Ellis’s. Backup.
Out at the SUV, a guard gestures for me to get in while another tightens a new zip tie around Weller’s wrists and then attaches them to the oh-shit handle above the door with a second zip tie.
As the streets pass by—people eating behind lit windows, kids playing basketball, a girl walking her dog—I picture my hands around Montgomery’s throat, squeezing, while his face goes red, purple, wrong...
or right, depending on how you look at it.
I want him to feel it—the helplessness, the waiting, someone else deciding whether he gets one more breath.
The fantasy stays so clear that my pulse never rises on the drive back.