Addicted After All (53 page)

Jesus Christ. That was a long time ago.

“Hi,” she says, nervously adjusting her backpack. She keeps licking her lips like she doesn’t know what else to do.

Ryke butts in, “Do you want an autograph or a picture or something?” He’s nice about it, but he’s six-foot-three and intimidating to stare at. In fact, she tries to meet his eyes but can’t.

She pushes her large glasses up her nose. “No…thanks.”

Ryke turns to me like
what should we do?

She’s not being weird. There’s no manual on how to go about these things, and I can’t believe she had the courage to even find me. It must’ve taken weeks in order to get this close.

She takes a deep breath and looks straight at me. “I’m—”

“My sister,” I finish.
My half-sister.
Like Ryke, only on the other side. “Willow, right?”

Her mouth drops. “You…remember me?”

“Yeah.” I give her a weak smile. “The day I met my birth mother is one I really can’t forget.”

“Oh…”

Ryke is stunned to silence. His eyes flicker back and forth between us.

“Do you want to talk over coffee?” I ask. “Maybe in the break room?”

Without hesitation, Willow nods—and her eyes well with tears. Relieved. She’s relieved. There was a chance that I could’ve slammed a door in her face. Told her to hop on a bus back to Maine. I didn’t.

I won’t.

After truly knowing Ryke, I can’t fathom shutting the door on a sibling. It’s a bond that’s different than a friendship. It’s one that hurts more if it breaks, but when it’s whole, it means everything.

{ 58 }

LOREN HALE

The break room clears out some when I take the bright blue couch with Willow, coffees in hand. I plan to talk to Lily later, but for now, Ryke whispers to her and ushers her upstairs to my office with Moffy and Garth.

Willow sets her ratted jean backpack on the ground, one of the pockets torn open from overuse. “I…” she trails off and cups the coffee with two hands.

Too many questions hit me at once, but we have to start somewhere. “How’d you find out about me?” I ask the most important one.

She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. She’s timid and a little shy, but I can’t tell if that’s her personality or just her reaction towards me. “My parents divorced about a year ago,” she mumbles.

My brows knot. “I’m sorry.” That wasn’t the image I left behind in Maine. I pictured a perfect family: Emily Moore, her two daughters, and a class-act husband.

She shrugs like it hasn’t affected her, but her gaze never meets mine. She pushes up her glasses. “Ellie had her sixth birthday about a month ago, and it was the first time my parents were together since the divorce.” She pauses. “I heard them fighting in the kitchen about how my mom had a son, and she…abandoned you.”

I scratch the back of my neck. “I had my father, so it was okay.” My throat closes for a second, and I swallow before I ask, “Did you confront her about it?” I thought Emily had finally confessed, but Willow learned about me in the worst way. Overhearing the news.

She nods. “Yeah, right then. I asked her about it, and it took some screaming for her to really tell me the truth.” She wipes below her eyes to hide her tears.

I turn my body more towards her. “I’m sorry you had to find out like that.” I warned Emily when I met her—I told her to at least come clean with her daughters. It stung to learn about my brother the way I did, and I didn’t want Willow to experience that kind of betrayal.

“I ran away,” she blurts out with a sob.

My stomach sinks. “You what?”

She cries. “I just…I was so mad. I told my mom that I was going to find you, and she couldn’t stop me. So…I hopped in my car and drove to Philadelphia.”

I pinch my eyes as I realize what this means. “You’ve been here for an entire month? Does Emily know—”

“She knows,” Willow says, sniffing. While she talks, I stand and search for a box of tissues. “She’s waiting for me to run out of money. She doesn’t have any vacation days left to leave work, so she can’t come get me.”

My chest tightens. Now that I have a kid, I can actually put myself in the place of a parent. I would be a wreck if Moffy ran away as a teenager. I’d hunt him down within the hour, but I also have the means to follow him all across the world.

I reach for tissues on top of the employee fridge, and I return to the couch. “How much money do you have left?” I ask, passing her the box.

She plucks one out. “I’m not going back.”

“Willow,” I force, “
how much money?
”

She bites her lip to keep from crying again. “Enough for a couple more nights at the motel.”

She’s staying at a motel? Jesus Christ. “I’ll pay for a hotel tonight and tomorrow, and I can get you a plane ticket back to Maine.”

“No,
no
,” she says. “Please don’t make me go back. I just met you, and…” She hiccups and removes her glasses, wiping the wet lenses with her striped blue and green shirt.

“Aren’t you in high school?” I ask.

She stays quiet, and I take it as a
yes.
She’s missing class by being here.

“Your mom is probably sick over this,” I tell her.

“
Our
mom,” she emphasizes, putting her glasses back on. She has my nose. And my hair color. The longer I scrutinize her features, the more I realize we look related. “And I don’t care what she is.”

I grimace. “Willow—”

“She
lied
to me.” Willow points to her chest, the hurt tearing through her voice. “I don’t want to be around her ever again.”

Her anger is talking. I understand all of that. I thought I was going to cut ties with my dad too. The moment I found out he’d kept so much from me, I couldn’t fathom ever seeing his face again. Time heals wounds that deep, and hers are too fresh.

“How about I call Emily and see where her head is at?” The minute I say the words, my muscles constrict. I never believed I would hear her voice again. Not for anything. I can’t even believe I offered this.

 After a brief second, Willow nods and lists off Emily’s cell number. I type it into my phone and rise to my feet. “I’ll be quick. Are you hungry?”

She shakes her head, but I silently question how much she’s been eating just to save money. I motion to a young employee at a table.

“Can you get her a muffin from the front?”

He sets down his sandwich. “Sure thing.” And then he exits. I disappear into the employee bathroom, locking the door behind me. It’s a single stall, so it’s not like I’m taking away five toilets from the staff.

My hands shake, and I don’t end up calling Emily first. I dial another number instead.

{ 59 }

LOREN HALE

Still in the employee bathroom, Lily’s eyes widen the longer I rehash everything that’s happened. She hangs onto my belt loops and stares up at me like I’m sharing the plot to a new Marvel movie.

“No way,” she says when I finish.

“Yes way.” I rest my elbow on the sink. “Now I have to call her mom—
my
mom.” It’s weird to say, especially since Emily doesn’t really consider me her son.

I called Lily to the bathroom because I want to do this with her. I feel stronger when she’s around. Maybe it’s her expression, the way she stares at me, like I can do anything without falter.

“I want to do this fast,” I tell her, the phone heavy in my hand. Ryke has Moffy in the break room, and while I love my brother, he’s never been alone with my kid without Daisy present.

Lily peers at the phone. “Are you going to press the button?”

My finger hovers over the green call sign, and I hesitate to make this real. “You do it.”

Like she’s touching fire, she quickly taps the screen and scuttles closer to me. I put it on speaker so she can listen too.

The phone rings four times; I think she’s not going to answer. On the fifth one, it clicks. And my pulse races, my forehead beading with sweat.

“Hello?” she says.

“Hi…” I clear my sandpapered throat. “This is Loren Hale. Before you hang up, I need to seriously talk to you. Willow is here…” I blank on what else to say. I look to Lily, and she flashes me an encouraging smile.

“Is she okay?” Emily asks, her tone high-pitched with worry.

“She’s angry and broke, but besides that, she’s doing great.” I can’t restrain the edge in my voice, and I just pray she stays on the line with me.

Emily speaks frantically, “I just called her yesterday, and she said that she had enough money. I’ve been trying to convince her to come back. But I can’t leave work, and I didn’t want the police involved.”

“You should’ve called me and said that she was here,” I retort. “I would’ve seen her the minute she drove out to Philly.”

Emily goes quiet, her voice no louder than a whisper as she says, “That wasn’t an option for me. I don’t want the media to know about my attachment to the Hales.”

I realize that she didn’t want to call me. Never wanted to speak to me again. Not even for this. I cringe and grip the sink with white knuckles.

Lily wraps her arms around my waist, and her warmth eases the tension in my chest.

“I can fly you out this weekend,” I tell her. “You should talk to Willow, face-to-face, and then maybe she’ll return home with you.”

“She’s not going to want to come back,” Emily whispers. “She just learned that her half-brother is famous.”

I glare at the ceiling. “It’s not about that.” If she saw the pain in Willow’s features, she’d understand that it’s deeper. It’s about struggling to face a person who’s caused you agony. Hating that parts of your life were shadowed with uncertainty and doubt.

If this was about celebrity and fame, she wouldn’t have cried about her mom.

“And if she doesn’t come home, I’ll be right.”

“You won’t,” I snap back. “If she doesn’t want to come home, it’s because she still can’t stomach living with you.” I realize how harsh that sounds and so I add, “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”

“You don’t even know her,” Emily retorts defensively.

“You’re right, but I’ve been in her situation before.” I spent ninety days in rehab away from my father. When I returned, I began thinking about restarting a relationship with him. But I needed that space. What’s different here—Willow is in
high school.
She’s not a legal adult yet. “Let me fly you out,” I try again. “You can talk to her and go from there.”

After a long pause, she says, “I can only take off one day from work, if that.”

“You’ll be in and out of Philly within the day then,” I tell her.

She contemplates this option for another second. “Okay. I’ll text you my email.” And then she hangs up on me.

I pocket my phone.

“Lo,” Lily breathes, her fingers hooking on my belt loops again. “I want to apologize for her meanness to you, but I don’t know how.”

“You just did, love,” I whisper, kissing her temple. And then I take a deeper breath and kiss her outside the lips. It feels good, having Lily this close. I press her small body up against my hard chest. Her ribcage rises and falls in a sporadic, aroused motion. I’m careful not to build her up too much, but I just really want to kiss her here…

My lips meet hers, connecting our bodies on another level entirely. My hand disappears in her hair, and my tongue slides against hers. She moans and trembles, and I restrain myself from pushing harder—lifting her around my waist. I can’t right now.

My lips break from hers and then brush her ear. “Later.”

She nods in acceptance, and I scan her body for signs that she can handle not going further. She’s flushed, but she’s not crossing her ankles.

“I’m okay,” she tells me.

“Do I need to check?” I ask seriously, my eyes traveling to her zipper.

“I’m already wet, but not soaked.” She nods again, this time adamantly. Though she reddens even more.

I smile. “I love you, Lil.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder.

“I love you too, Loren Hale.”

I feign surprise. “You love me? Holy shit.”

She punches my arm playfully, and I hug her close as we leave the bathroom. The minute we exit, we both halt in place at the same time.

In front of the couch on the carpet, Ryke sits beside Maximoff who rattles a
comic book
like it’s a damn maraca. While my brother plays with him, my son chews on the corner of
Young Avengers
. I notice Willow picking at a muffin on the couch, hugging the armrest.

“Close your eyes,” Lily whisper-hisses and practically catapults her body at me to shield my sight from our son desecrating a comic book.

“It’s too late, Lil. I’ve seen it.”

But she climbs up my back, and I hold her by the legs. Her fingers barely cover my eyes. “You didn’t see anything,” she repeats like she can hypnotize me.

And then I
hear
the sound of paper tearing from the spine. “Ryke,” I groan. “I blame you for this.”

“He’s not even crying right now. I’m doing a fantastic fucking job.” The
fuck-and-punch
tactic to eliminate cursing barely lasted. Ryke just grew more pissy, and I hated punching him every two seconds. At first, it was fun. Then it just became exhausting.

But if Janie or Moffy’s first word is “fuck”—he owes Connor and me, big time.

“You gave him a comic book, and he can’t even read yet.”

“He’s starting early then,” Ryke says. “Maybe you should’ve given me his diaper bag or something.”

Lily drops her hand. “We’re in a store with
tons
of toys on the walls. You could’ve taken a Green Goblin action figure.”

I add, “Or Wolverine, Black Widow, Hulk, Spider-Man—”

“For fuck’s sake, okay. I got it.” He pries the defiled comic book out of Moffy’s clutch and then lifts the baby in his arms. Moffy laughs, like a giggle. My lips rise. My brother’s not too bad with my kid.

“You should babysit more often.”

“Fucking hilarious,” he curses, passing me Maximoff while Lily slides off my back, her feet thudding to the floor.

That’s when I reroute my mind to the serious topic. Willow has already finished eating, and she straightens up as soon as I focus on her.