Page 35

“Of course. I’ll leave just now.”

Just like that. No questions asked.

“Thank you,” I reply, and even I can hear the tremor in my voice.

“She’ll be okay, Scar,” he promises. And I actually believe him.

Caitlin is sitting on one of the hard metal chairs in the front office that I remember from when I went to school here. Easy to clean, but uncomfortable as hell to sit on when waiting for someone to come get you.

One look at her face tells me she’s not happy. Her brows are drawn together, her lips pinched. She always looks more like Landon when she’s pissed.

“Hey, Caity-cat.” Her French braid—one of Killian’s skills, not mine—is half-pulled out, like she’s been toying with it, and her freckled cheeks are streaked with tears. I crouch down, so I can look at her at eye level, and reach for her hand. But she tugs it away. Ouch.

“Can we go?” Okay, then.

“Just let me sign you out. Killian’s coming to get us, so we don’t have to walk in the snow, and I have your favorite cookies from work.”

She doesn’t even acknowledge that I’ve spoken.

I sign her out with my mom’s friend Carmen, who’s been working the school reception desk since before I was born, and hold the door open. Caitlin storms out without a word, trudging across the snowy parking lot toward Killian’s rental car.

He’s leaning against it, a picture of calm at first glance, but I notice the tightness in his stance, the shadows on his face that I swear get darker when he sees Caitlin’s tear-marked face.

“Do you want to tell us what happened?” I ask Caitlin as Killian takes her backpack.

She shakes her head, but must change her mind, because her frown deepens and she says, “I hate it here. And all the people here. And school. And I hate Daddy.”

And then she opens the car door, climbs in, and slams it.

I am so fucked when she’s a teenager.

Killian’s eyes meet mine, my worry reflected in the depths of them.

“Thank you for coming,” I say, and his expression softens.

“Always, Scar. All you have to do is say the word.” It’s not true; it can’t be true, not when he lives halfway across the world. But, for now, it’s a nice thought. “Are you okay?”

I draw in a shaky breath and half-shrug. “I should’ve guessed it was something to do with Dom. It always is, when she gets upset. But she’s never said she hates him before.”

“Do you think someone said something?”

“Probably. It’s a small town; people talk. But I guess I hoped she wouldn’t have to deal with it until she’s older.” My voice cracks, and Killian reaches out to take my hand. It shouldn’t make me feel better, but it’s exactly what I need.

“You’re doing a great job, you know.”

And that’s exactly what I need to hear, even if I don’t entirely believe him.

We get in the car, and I peer over my shoulder at Caitlin. She’s staring out the window, looking more upset than angry.

“Are you okay?” I ask, and she turns to me, her eyes watery.

“I’m sorry for shouting and slamming the door. And saying I hate everything. I didn’t mean it.”

“Thank you for apologizing. You don’t have to tell us what happened, but it might make you feel better.”

Caitlin tugs at the end of her braid, like she’s thinking it through before speaking. “Addison and Annabel were being mean on the playground.”

I wish I could say the names surprised me, but Addison and Annabel are twins whose dad made Landon’s life a living hell in middle school. “Mean, how?”