Chapter 3 #3
“We can arrange for it to be picked up and stored. And I’m sure Phoenix won’t mind if you use your own bed. I don’t know about you, but I sleep better on my own mattress, no matter how comfortable the one I’m lying on is.”
My eyes found his, and the earnestness in his gaze loosened my lips. “Same. And yeah, if it’s no problem.”
“No problem whatsoever.”
He looked over his shoulder, and my gaze followed his. Mrs. P was trying, and failing miserably, to appear like she wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.
“Guess I need to deal with that,” I said.
“Yeah. She was worried.”
“About her rent—”
“Yes, but not solely. She really was worried about you.”
“Yeah, I skimmed the texts. I didn’t realize…” I swallowed, unable to voice how far I’d let myself fall into depression when the reality of my situation had collapsed in on me.
I stood and walked to the front door, pushing it open. “Hi, Mrs. P. I’m sorry…”
“You had me frantic, young man.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll pay you whatever—”
“Cash, is everything all right?”
I swallowed back the tears that sprouted and burned in my eyes. Looking back over my shoulder, I studied the officer standing in what was once my kitchen, the nicest I’d ever had, his phone pressed to his ear. “Not really, but at least there’s an option now. I’m sorry I didn’t move—”
“Nonsense. The money was the least of my worries when no one could get in contact with you. I was afraid you’d fallen and hurt yourself.”
“I’m sorry I worried you. If you’ll let me know how much I owe you, I’ll get you the money.”
“No apologies and forget about the money. Use it to figure things out for yourself,” she said, taking out her phone and tapping away on the screen. A moment later, mine buzzed in my pocket. The text on the screen revealed she’d given me the month free.
“Mrs. P…I can’t let you…”
“Oh pish! You hush. I don’t have any kiddos of my own. I’ll do what I want. You just stay in contact. I mean, if you want.”
I nodded, swallowing and leaning down to hug the woman who’d treated Mason, Nolan, and me like grandkids the whole time we lived here. She’d brought us cookies and invited us to Thanksgiving and Christmas every year.
“Ma’am, would it be okay with you if Mr. Benjamin stayed here to meet with the movers?” Officer Vale asked when he stepped out on the front porch.
“Of course.”
“Good.” He turned to me and said, “A couple of my friends own a moving service. I’ve arranged for them to come and pack your stuff and move it to the new place. I’ll be by to pick you up and take you there after my shift. If that works?”
I nodded, blown away by the generosity of these two people.
Hours later, darkness threatening, I sat in the passenger seat of Officer Vale’s—Aaron, as he informed me—cruiser.
The house he pulled to a stop in front of looked nothing like what I expected.
If I had tried to envision it, that is. I hadn’t, because what was the point?
All these places looked the same. Only this one didn’t.
Officer…Aaron got out of the car, moving to the trunk he’d popped open as I swung around in the seat, my eyes locked on the sight of the house.
Pressing both feet into the ground, I lifted myself out of the low-slung car.
The three-story brick home reminded me of the house from Home Alone.
Only instead of snowy Chicago, this one sat in sunny California, and the landscaping matched the location, but with the same immaculate, well-tended look.
“Can you navigate the stairs?”
My gaze swung to Aaron. His words, while most likely said with the utmost care and consideration, lit a fire in my belly that would make a dragon proud.
I wasn’t a fucking invalid no matter how much I resembled one.
I was a motherfucking badass. A fucking hockey goalie headed to the show.
Even if the when of that was currently up in the air.
My nostrils flared with anger and copper burst across my taste buds before I managed to rein in the rage. “I’ll be fine.”
He smirked. “You will be, kid. I guarantee it.” Then he trudged up the stairs carrying my luggage while I navigated the wide steps leading to the front door.
At the top, I paused to catch my breath.
The stairs weren’t steep or tall enough that I should be so winded, yet sweat rolled down my back.
I closed my eyes, trying to reconcile myself to my fate.
After all the group homes, foster homes, and billets, I’d promised myself I would never be in this situation again.
Yet here I was. Screwed. Raw and without lube or even dinner and a movie.
“Hello, Cash.”
When my eyes opened, a small, willowy-built man filled my vision.
He appeared almost otherworldly with his platinum-blond hair shot through with streaks of purple.
He gave off an ethereal look, dressed in a long, flowy…
attire? I couldn’t tell if it was a dress or two separate pieces that just looked billowy.
“Hello…” I greeted in return.
“Welcome to Halo House. I’m Phoenix. Why don’t we get you settled?”