Page 92 of Never and Always
“And he brought his trouble to your doorstep,” my mom said quietly.
“He did,” Everett answered. “She’s been threatened.”
Mom and Gram gasped. At least he didn’t tell them the full extent of the attacks.
“I’m fine,” I rushed to assure them.
Mom looked at the bandage on my arm. “What’s under there?”
I squirmed in my chair, not wanting to answer.
“A knife wound. Five stitches.”
“Everett,” I snapped.
“Let him speak,” Mom said. “I trust him not to hide things from me.”
“I’m trying to take care of you two, and help Chance?—”
“Don’t,” Mom clipped out. “Let Chance deal with it. It’s time he learned.”
“Mom…”
“It’s hard. So hard to see someone you love travel this kind of path. But all we can do is love him, be there for him when he asks for help. If he keeps making terrible choices, they’re his choices to make.”
“We wanted you to know,” Everett said. “In case he comes here, or you’re contacted by the man he owes money to.”
Mom nodded. “Thank you, Everett. Thank you again for having my daughter’s back.”
I reached over the table and took her hand. “Mom, I’m worried.”
“You’re not to worry about us anymore.”
“If there is even a small chance you and Gram could be in danger, I’m going to worry.”
“I’ll talk to David next door. He’s a retired cop and he has friends. He’ll take care of us.” She glanced at Gram, whose eyelids were dropping. “Mom, you need some sleep. Time for bed. Piper, I made up the bed in your room with fresh sheets.”
“Thanks, Mom. I can make up the sofa bed in the den for Everett.”
My mom shot me a faint smile. “If you think I don’t know that man is going to sleep in your bed with you, you’re crazy.”
“Mom!”
She helped Gram get out of the armchair. My grandmother was grinning.
“Sleep well,” Mom said. “Both of you. We’ll see you in the morning.”
“I like your room.”
I watched Everett wander around my childhood bedroom. Mom and Gram had redecorated after I’d graduated from high school. It was painted a soothing green with a pretty white comforter on the queen-sized bed. But my favorite framed photos still cluttered the dresser. He picked one up and grinned.
“You were a cheerleader.”
“For one season. Amanda Adler, my arch-rival, said I’d never make the team.” I sniffed. “I had to prove her wrong. I hated every minute of it. I decided to spend my time studying more the following year.”
“You looked cute in your uniform.” He set the frame down.
“I’m going to use the bathroom.” I gathered my pajamas and toiletries from my suitcase, then slipped across the hall.
