Page 22 of Just Between Us

“But your back,” I protest.

“Mom, I’ve got this,” Jackson announces, appearing out of nowhere and pushing through the crowd that’s gathered near the bar. “Diner closed early. I’ve heard enough to know you two better get going. I’ll cover here.”

Without a second’s hesitation, I’m chasing Cassie out into the night.

“Cassie!” I call out, jerking my head to where my truck is parked. “Come on. I’m driving.”

She nods, lip trembling and follows me.

Yes, it only takes a minute to get to Penny’s house, but it feels like ages. Cassie’s worry and fear roll off her in waves. Truth be told, I’m a little worried what we’ll find, too. I don’t know what kind of drunk Austin is, and I’d hate to punch the guy if he’s an ass to his sister, no matter what he’s going through.

As we approach, I see a figure sitting on the steps of Penny’s front porch. A very Austin-shaped figure, bottle tipped to his mouth.

Cassie climbs out before I’ve even cut the engine, darting across the front lawn.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Austin! Is this how you want to live your life? Just like Dad?” She practically spits the word Dad.

Austin lowers the bottle, squinting his eyes. I don’t know how much he’s had, but the guy is already three sheets to the wind.

“I’m already him, Cass,” Austin slurs. “I’m already him.” Reaching for his phone, he holds it up and tosses it to the ground. “Father dearest called to remind me earlier. Said I’m nothing but a drunk like him. I will ruin Penny’s life.”

Cassie deflates, sinking onto the step next to him. Crossing my arms, I study my boots, trying to give them privacy, but voices carry. Every few seconds, I catch snippets of conversation. Cassie saying something about repeating the sins of their father, to which Austin responds with a shrug and another pull from the bottle. At one point she tries prying the bottle from his hands, but he’s stronger. I think I might have to intervene, but then Cassie stands and heads my way, face tear-streaked.

“We need to get Penny.”

The next twenty minutes pass in a blur from Cassie pounding on Josie’s door, to Penny following her to my truck. My adrenaline is pumping, heart racing, listening to Cassie summarize the last hour for Penny. At Penny’s house, Austin is nowhere in sight, but I have to swerve into the yard to avoid all the shards ofglass glittering the driveway. From the corner of my eye, I see a shadow pass by a window in the apartment.

“He’s in your apartment,” I say, pointing.

Penny is out of my truck and running up the stairs to only god knows what. I can tell Cassie wants to follow, but I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze.

“What do you say we let Penny handle things tonight, Cassie?”

Cassie turns to me, lip trembling, eyes brimming with tears, and I open my arms, letting her collapse into me.

In the span of a single week, I’ve observed a few things about her. She’s funnier than she means to be and smart as hell. Even with all the shit her ex put her through, she’s pushing through to be her best self. And she’s trusting me with that.

I’ve spent a good bit of time keeping people at a comfortable distance. Easy company, easy exits. But with Cassie it’s different. She makes me want to be someone she can count on, and that’s not something I’ve wanted in a while now.

As this beautiful woman falls apart in my arms, a fierce surge of protectiveness pulls tight beneath my breastbone, and I vow to be the best friend Cassandra James has ever, or will ever have. There’s a lot going on in her life, things I’m in the dark about, and if a day comes when she starts to crumble under the weight of it, I’ll be there to hold her up.

“Okay,Mara. Before we get started, let’s do a check in. How are you feeling about today?”

On my laptop screen, Mara shifts in her chair, finger twirling her blonde ringlets. Her sweet face is still round with the last traces of girlhood, eyeliner smudged beneath one eye, evidence of a long day at school.

I hear her pen tapping through my speakers. This is what she does when she’s nervous. Every single time. We’ve spent the last four months building toward this. Talk therapy, coping tools, establishing her safe place. She and I feel she’s ready, but it’s still a big step for her.

“Nervous,” she admits. “But I still want to try.”

“That’s all I need to hear. And remember, you’re in control. If at any point you need to stop, we stop. No questions asked. Got it?” I raise my brows and look at her.

“Got it.”

“Good. Remember your safety word.” I pull up the bilateral stimulation program on my end and send her the link.

“See the dot?” On her screen there should be a green dot, the visual she’ll follow with her eyes.

She nods.