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I half expect the brute to throw my brother over his shoulder, but no. Jaxon wraps his arms around Leon, positioning one along his back with his hand, reaching to take hold of Leon’s head. He is pressing the boy’s head into his chest. Jaxon’s other arm wraps under Leon’s legs. With a shift, Jaxon is standing, and Leon is cradled into his body. Jaxon then whispers in Leon’s ear, “We’ll be home soon.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sally
With Leon cradled in Jaxon’s arms, we leave the room. Oliver’s hand wraps around mine as we walk through the party and to his Jeep. I look over my shoulder as Jaxon lets out a soft laugh as Leon tells him something.
It didn’t occur to me when he offered to drive, but Oliver is going to see where I’m staying—the same place we spent so many nights.
“Head down this road,” I say, feeling the nerves start to bounce around in my stomach. His hand is still intertwined with mine, and I don’t want to let go. I swallow. “Go down until you hit Millwood Road, and then it should be the third road on the left.
His hand tightens around my fingers, and his body goes rigid, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s been in Alliance his whole life, so he knows the roads like the back of his hand.
My head turns toward the backseat, not wanting to see his expression.
I can’t help the smile that forms with Leon still huddled in Jaxon’s lap. I don’t think Leon will actually be fully conscious until he rests, but right now, he’s whispering into Jaxon’s chest, and the blond brute is smiling.
Abruptly, the car turns, and my eyes meet with Oliver’s unreadable expression. I look through the car and see my childhood home. Oliver lets go of my hand, and I miss it already, but he’s turning to me.
“Sally, why are we here?” Oliver asks, his sea-green eyes looking more like storm clouds now.
I swallow as Ella gets out, along with Jaxon and Leon. “It’s where we are staying.” I try to give him a smile, but even that hurts.
Oliver continues to stare at me. “Here, of all places? Why are you staying here?”
I know what he wants to ask. He wants to ask why I’m staying at his childhood friend’s home. Why am I staying at a place that just recently became vacant? I’m not ready to give the answer.
“It’s where we are staying while we handle some family business,” I answer with a cool, fake smile as he turns to stare at the house.
He opens his mouth, but I hop out of the Jeep, heading toward the house. Jaxon and Ella are already inside as I walk up the steps.
“This isn’t just some house, Sally,” he starts before raking his eyes over the structure. Pain storms through his darkened eyes. “This is his house. Why are you staying at Simon’s house?”
I bite back the urge to correct him, saying it’s her house. He’s not even looking at me. His eyes stay on the house, burning every feature that’s been left untouched since my donors' deaths.
His face twists, blinking back whatever emotion might spill from them. Anger. Sadness. I don’t know, but his hands cover his face, and his voice crumbles. “Why here?”
I need to tell him soon, but tonight is not the night.
“Sally.” Oliver looks at me with a clenched jaw. Looks like he’s moved from being sad and overwhelmed to letting his anger and frustration out. I don’t miss his eyes glistening.
“I don’t have time to talk about this,” I say dryly, finding whatever courage I can muster up to push forward. The next words come out shakily. So much for staying strong. “Leon almost got taken advantage of.”
“Shit.” He looks down, losing whatever energy he has, but his face remains hardened, not letting it go. “Please?”
“You are welcome to come in,” I say, and he looks up at me, his face reminding me of a scared puppy that was just kicked by his owner. I’m the one kicking him. “But I’m going to help my little brother.”
If I were stronger, I would have turned on my heel immediately, not even staying to watch what he does, but here I am, still looking at his glistening eyes, just barely visible. You can’t even see the green with the porch light behind me.
I want him to follow.
He stares at me with a tornado of emotions. Anger or sadness, maybe both, or something in between. I can see his shoulders trembling lightly. I don’t think he could step forward even if he wanted to.
I take a deep breath and turn on my heel with his eyes boring into me, or maybe not even looking into me. His eyes look through me and at the house. I walk into the house, deciding to leave the door open slightly.
He doesn’t come in.
I hate this room each time I come into it. The room screams boy, and it’s because of that I’ve spent most of my time out of the room.
