I can tell Quinn’s momentarily stumped because I can practically see her brain constructing a story. “Attacked by the ball. But my team also got into a huge fight with our school rivals on the field the other day.” She slaps her knee with her free hand. “You should have seen it, man. Shit got crazy.”
“It’s the summer,” Phoenix says cynically. “School’s not in session.”
When Quinn’s demeanor wavers, he looks back at me. “Call the police.”
“Please don’t.”
Breaking free from his hold, she runs full steam ahead.
Phoenix manages to wedge himself between her and the door a fraction of a second before she takes off.
“Those bruises aren’t from soccer. Trust me, I know. I used to make up the same bullshit stories.” Crossing his arms, he stares her down. “Sister or not, there’s no way I’m letting you go back to a place where someone’s beating on you.”
My heart constricts for two different reasons.
One—because I know this must be tearing him apart inside.
And two—Quinn’s next words.
“If you really knew, then you’d understand why calling the police is a bad idea.”
Dread wraps around my chest and pulls tight.
It will only make it worse for her.
“Fuck.” Exhaling sharply, Phoenix scrubs a hand down his face. “Look, I’ll make sure the police take this seriously and don’t bring you back there, okay?”
“You don’t understand,” Quinn whispers, her voice quaky. “He is the police.”
Phoenix rears back like he’s been sucker punched and the dread in my chest turns to full-blown horror.
“It will be bad enough when he finds me, because he always finds me. But if you call the police, they’ll tell my father—who’s a fucking sheriff—and he’s gonna lose his shit entirely.” Curling her arms around herself, she studies her shoes. “He hates when I run away, but he hates it even more when I embarrass him. Not only will he make it brutal, he’ll…” She swallows thickly. “He’ll—”
“Hurt Mom,” Phoenix interjects. “Because that’s the worst punishment.”
I try to take a breath past the heavy weight crushing my lungs, but it’s impossible.
I don’t understand how someone could abuse their child.
I don’t understand how someone could stay with someone who abuses their child.
Or how someone could abandon their child and leave them all alone with the monster who abuses them.
“What do we do, Phoenix?” I croak, my brain desperately trying to come up with options.
We can’t call the police because her father is a sheriff.
We can’t call her mom because it’s evident the woman protects him.
The only thing I do know is that we’re not taking her back to that hellhole.
I don’t give a shit if she’s his sister or not.
Visibly frustrated, Phoenix grips the back of his neck. “There’s fuck all I can do right now. Not until we do a DNA test and get the results back.”
“You’re my brother,” Quinn insists for what must be the hundredth time since she’s been here. “I swear.”
“I need to have proof of that,” he booms before his voice drops to a far gentler tone. “Otherwise, there’s nothing I can do to help you. I’ll just look like some creep harboring a teenage girl.”
It’s true. While I hope Quinn turns out to be his sister, his hands are completely tied until we know for sure.
“But then you’re gonna save me?” Quinn exclaims and the glimmer of hope in her voice has me blinking back tears.
“Yeah. I just need the results to come back first.” Glancing at me, he shrugs helplessly. “In the meantime, I guess she can stay here.”
Phoenix tries to remain aloof, but the moment Quinn rushes forward and tackles him his poker face diminishes, An array of emotions illuminate his face, ranging from trepidation and shock to protectiveness.
It’s obvious he needs a moment—or several—to process the bomb that’s been dropped on his lap, so after Quinn detaches herself, I smile at her and say, “You can have my room. It’s right next door.”
Her incredulous stare bounces between us. “How come you two don’t share a room?”
Shit.
I’m thinking of ways to explain what she saw between us earlier while simultaneously asking her to politely keep her mouth shut, but Phoenix says, “We’ll be sharing one tonight.” He glances at the expensive watch on his wrist. “It’s three a.m. and we have another show tomorrow, so you should probably go to bed.”