I have the chance to be by her side through all of this.
So go, you stupid bastard.
That’s what it takes. I’m out the door.
PART THREE
“One day, you're going to have to make a choice. You have to decide what kind of man you want to grow up to be. Whoever that man is, good character or bad, is going to change the world.”
– Jonathan Kent, Man of Steel
{ 33 }
LOREN HALE
No one speaks in the car, from the tarmac to our house in Princeton, New Jersey. Melissa calls a taxi to bring her back to Penn, so at least we don’t have to deal with that.
Connor’s black limo gives us all plenty of room. Lily rests her head in my lap, trying to play cat’s cradle with my shoelace. She stopped crying sometime between our fifth game of Go Fish and when the plane landed.
I want her to call Allison, but she keeps saying she doesn’t want to talk to anyone. And I guess I have no right to force her to speak to her therapist when I’ve been avoiding mine. Regardless, I plan on calling Allison tonight whether Lily does or not. I have to ask about medication for Lil.
No one understands lows like an addict. And I fear the one she’s about to hit when she confronts her parents.
She holds up the intertwined shoelace in her fingers. “Your turn,” she tells me. “Go under my hands and grab it.”
“I’m going to mess it up.”
“No you won’t,” she says. “Just make sure to grab the right ones.”
Problem is, I don’t know which are the right ones.
Rose sits stiffly beside Connor, her cell clutched in her steel-grip. Lily told me that Rose has been in “damage control mode”—she even yelled at a reputable news producer for an hour before Connor pried the phone from her fingers. She’s been texting and emailing gossip magazines and lawyers since we landed.
Rose isn’t taking the leak very well. She keeps fixing her hair and smoothing her dress. Connor has to grab her hands to stop her. And as I look between the three Calloway girls—Rose in a frazzled state, Daisy drifting far away, and Lil with a sad, soft voice—I get it. I get what Ryke sees and what he feels. I have this insane wish to just make things right again, to plug all the cracks in our lives—just for the small, sliver of hope that these girls will be able to stand up on their own for one more day.
I think the six of us—we’re all strong. We’re each just a different kind of strong. But we all have a different kind of weak too. And I’m figuring out how to bottle my weakness to help them all.
I’m not going to be the villain of my own story. That shit is done.
Rose’s phone buzzes. She stares at the screen, Connor reading the text too. “We have a little hiccup,” she says.
Lily’s hands fall to her lap, tangling the shoelace herself. “What?” Her worry cracks her voice. I rub her arm, and she holds onto my bicep for support.
“Our parents are at our house,” Rose says. “They’re waiting for you.”
Lily bolts upright, shaking her head fiercely. “I can’t, Rose. I need another day.”
Gilligan, Connor’s driver, remains quiet behind the wheel, leading us down our street. Only a couple blocks away, news vans line the curb, most likely camped out by the gate.
Daisy presses her nose to the window. “Holy shit.”
Lily’s eyes widen at the scene.
She can’t handle this right now. That much is certain. I look to Ryke and he just nods once. “Gilligan,” I call to the front and tap the privacy screen. It lowers so I can see his bald head. “Change of plans. We’re going to Philly.”
***
Ryke’s off-campus flat has brick walls and hardwood floors, a Philadelphia 76ers poster hanging in the dim living room, fit with leather beanbags, a big screen television, and a decent-sized sound system. I’ve been here only a few times before, and it’s hard to remember that this isn’t just another random apartment. It’s my brother’s.
After a quick call to Allison, I get an approval to give Lily a sleeping pill. She falls asleep in the spare bedroom, quicker than I thought she would. Crying must have exhausted her already.
When I return to the living room, I take a swift glance outside. No news vans or camera crews. Not many people know that Ryke Meadows is related to me, and in this instance, it comes in handy.
Connor and Rose talk in hushed whispers on the couch, sometimes even switching to French. He told me that the private investigator is still working on finding the leak. Same thing my father said about his connections. A part of me feels hopeless by the news—like maybe we’ll just never know. Another part of me thinks maybe I shouldn’t know. Because I have a penchant for hurting people who hurt Lily or me. And I don’t want to be the guy who threatens someone else’s future anymore. I don’t want to become my father.