Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(70)

I smiled at her. “It’s good he’s here. How long’s he gonna be staying?”

Her lids drifted closed. “Probably as long as I last. As long as it takes him and your mom to get rid of this place.”

Grief.

Stark and quiet and resounding.

It echoed through the room, from the clench of my heart to the flinch of my mama where she fiddled with something across the room, her back to us as if she was giving us privacy.

“Did you go through that box with your sister yet?” Grandma asked, her words starting to jumble, her pain medicine surely kicking in. “Wasn’t ever rich, but everything I’ve ever had worth anything I put in there where I kept it in the attic.”

I cringed, unable to confess someone had taken it. I didn’t know what would be worse. Admitting that or the fact my apartment had been broken into in the first place.

I smiled softly. “Not yet. We will soon.”

The lie fell so easily.

I just didn’t know what else to say.

“Want you and your sister to do it soon. See what you might like.”

She peeked an eye open at me. “As long as it doesn’t lead to the two of you getting in one of those fist fights like you used to have over those dolls. No hair pullin’, now.”

A light chuckle rippled free. “Nah, I’m pretty sure we can handle ourselves. Unless you have something extra awesome in there.”

I winked at her, and she laughed, the sound hitching when she began to cough.

“You two . . . find the important stuff. Keep it. That would make me happier than you know.”

I couldn’t bring myself to respond. Instead, I eased forward and kissed her cheek. I pulled back a fraction. “I’ll let you rest.”

She gave a small nod before she was already drifting off.

Reluctantly, I stood, watching over her as she got swept away into a deep sleep. I turned to face my mama who was watching me. Slowly, I approached her and wrapped my arms around her.

She stuttered through a deep breath, doing her best to quiet a sob that clawed at her throat. I just . . . held her while she cried, knowing there were no words that would make it better.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in my ear after a minute.

My head shook. “Nothing to be sorry for, Mama.”

She nodded, and I held her out by the arms, voice serious. “If you need to rest, call me. I’ll be happy to sit with her.”

Regretfully, she looked at her mother before turning back to me. “I think I’ll take all the minutes I have. They’ll be plenty of time for rest later.”

Quiet sorrow moved between us. “Okay,” I said, wiping the tear that escaped my eye. “Just . . . promise you’ll call if you need me.”

“I will.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

My worry for my sister was right there, hovering in my spirit, wanting to be released.

No matter how heavily it weighed, I wouldn’t break my sister’s trust that way. I had to let her come to me—to us—on her own time.

“I love you, Sunshine,” she said, and I almost blushed at the way Ollie’s nickname for me had spilled over and clung to the rest of my family.

“I love you more,” I told her, backing away.

“Not a chance.”

We smiled at each other as I edged across the groaning planks before I turned in the doorway and bounded back downstairs.

I shrieked when the door suddenly burst open just as I was reaching for the latch, my hand flying up to cover the thunder that was suddenly pounding my heart. I stepped back, still rattled. “Uncle Todd,” I said, trying to force down the nerves that spiked in my body.

I hated that I was still on edge after everything that had happened.

“Well, if it isn’t Nikki Lou.”

He stood there, years older than I remembered, looking so much different. Lines creased his face, and a few more pounds were around his middle.

But the oil and grease staining his hands wasn’t new.

“It’s nice to see you,” I said.

“Good to see you, too. It’s been way too long.”

“It has.”

Awkwardness spun around us, and I hesitated before I said, “I just wanted you to know my friend bought that old Bel Air. I’m glad it’s going to someone we know.”

A frown pulled across his brow. “The Bel Air?”

I smiled at him. “It’s fine. Grandma told me she is having you sell off some stuff since you left your job to come here and help out. It’s good you’re here for her.”

Unease moved around him, and he nodded, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the praise. “It’s not a problem.”

I gestured for the door. “Well, I was just leaving. We’ll have to catch up more soon.”

I sidestepped around him.

From behind, I could feel him swivel around to look at me. “Which friend was that?” he asked.

I peeked back at him. “Ollie.”

He grimaced and then gave a tight nod. Without another word, I ducked out into the night, wondering why it was that I felt so off-kilter.





22





Ollie





Seventeen Years Old