Hostile(68)

He nods sadly, looking over at Max, who is beat to hell, but seems to be sleeping. His face is bruised and swollen, and he has one arm in a cast. “Yeah. He was protecting me. It was so stupid. I stupidly taunted that fucker.”

“Where are the cops?” Ian shrugs, and I prod, “Ian.”

“I ducked out when they got there and then snuck back in. They would have made me go to a temporary home, Rhett. I don’t want to leave him.”

I think back to all the times I jumped in front of someone to protect Fletch and how pissed I was the night Bree, Blair, Rhys and I drove to his last foster place, and he was outside with a black eye. How I wasn’t there that night. “I’m going to figure something out. Okay?”

What, though? I’m not even nineteen yet. I have my own place, but it’s a studio. They’ll never approve me for foster care.

Blair must hear my thoughts because she places a hand on my shoulder as she reaches for her cell phone in her purse. “Let me make some calls, okay?” My eyes meet hers, and I see they’re wet with tears she tries to wipe away. “Trust me?”

It’s said as a question, so I nod. “Always.”

She keeps her voice quiet now. “Their names? First and last.”

I tell her, and she gives me a quick smile, then winks at Ian before going out in the hall. Ian looks at me with one eyebrow raised. “What was that about?”

I don’t want to get his hopes up, so I just shrug and change the subject, nodding toward the hospital bed. “Did the doctors say if he’s okay?”

“Broken arm and some bruises. Cracked ribs. But yeah, they think he’ll be okay. They arrested that asshole, but what does it matter? They’ll just place us with another one.”

“Maybe not.” We both jump at the sound of Grayson’s voice behind me before he walks inside. He gives an apologetic smile to Ian. “Sorry for being a creeper.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation and the dark mood of the room, Ian brightens slightly when he sees Grayson. “It’s okay.”

“Grayson, what are you doing here? How did . . .” I stop midsentence because I know. “Bree?”

He doesn’t shrink away or look at all ashamed. “Yeah. We still text sometimes.”

I should be pissed, but I’m not. I don’t have any rights to either of them. They can talk to whoever they want, and it doesn’t surprise me at all that Bree has kept up with him, knowing how I feel about him.

Grayson’s eyes scan over Max’s sleeping form, and he looks sick to his stomach. I know how much he loves these kids. It’s the thing that attracted me to him in the first place. “What can we do?” His voice cracks and is eerily quiet.

“I don’t know.”

But Blair does, she breezes in with her brightest smile—put there purposely to make us all feel at ease. She turns to me, projecting strength and calm, even though I know she’s shaking with rage on the inside. “Okay, so I talked to my social-worker friend, and since I’ve kept up with all the foster-care stuff, Rhys and I can take Ian and Max in.”

Ian looks over at her from his chair, a curious but guarded look on his face. “What?”

He’s never met Blair, but I’ve told him about her. “Ian, this is Blair. The woman who took Fletch, Bree, and me in when we needed her. And it seems she’s going to do the same for Max and you.”

“Why?” He can’t help it. He doesn’t trust people, and I understand that more than anyone. Blair doesn’t flinch either because she had to deal with my surly ass for so long.

She walks to him and kneels down so she can look him in the eyes. She gives him that comforting, sweet gaze that, coming from such a strong woman, instills calm in everyone around her. “I have plenty of room at my house, and it seems you and Max need a place to stay.” Ian nods his head slowly. “I’d like to give that to you.”

“But why?”

I stand stiff next to Grayson, hoping he’ll trust her, but knowing it’ll take time. “Blair and Rhys have been nothing but good to me. I promise you’ll be safe with them. She may force you to eat vegetables and take vitamins, but that’s as bad as it gets at her house.”

I see Blair smile at that as she cups Ian’s cheek carefully. “I know you’ve been through hell, and I wish I could fix it for every kid out there. But if I can help a few, then that’s what I’m going to do. I want to help you.”

Damn, she’s good. I remember when I didn’t understand the motive behind her wanting to help me either, but now I know. Rhys was abused. The man she loves more than anyone in the world went through horrible pain and torture when he was in foster care, and no one saved him.

Not until her. When he was already a grown, angry man.

“O-okay,” Ian says, still hesitant, but I see his desire to trust her in his gaze.

“Okay, great.” Blair stands up, taking that as a win and not pushing it because again—she’s skilled. She looks over at Grayson. “Grayson, can you stay with Ian for a minute. I want to talk to Rhett.”

He agrees, and I go out in the hall with Blair, where she pulls me into a quick hug, taking all my pain into herself in that brief hold. “It’s going to be okay.”

I want to break down. I want to scream because it’s never okay. Not really. But I don’t. I only nod as she releases me from the tight hold but braces me by my shoulders. “I’m going to take them both in temporarily at first. But I’m approved for long-term care too, so I’ll file all that. The social worker is on the way. I’m not going to let anything else happen to them, Rhett. I promise.”