Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
It was vital they got to work on feeling better, and I felt a surge of anger toward Luke Duchesne.
“Okay, then, so what I’m hearing is that he was good with the idea of therapy. Is that what you all understood to be the case?”
Nodding all around.
“Great,” I said, happy with that, with the ability to move forward. “Then you’re all gonna go see a therapist. It will help to talk to someone, especially you, Griff, because I understand you’re struggling with insomnia.”
Quiet, thoughtful people, all studying me. It was weird but nice too.
“Is it a deal?”
“Do we have to lie down on a couch and talk about our childhoods?” Tatum wanted to know, scowling at me.
“You’re still in your childhood,” I reminded her.
“Are you gonna take us?” Griff asked me.
“I will.”
“And stay with us?”
He seemed very concerned about me potentially leaving, and I understood why. Big trigger for him, and all of them, because of their mother. “Of course,” I promised.
“Okay,” Tatum agreed. “If you take me, I’ll go.”
“Me too,” Darwin seconded.
“All right,” Griff replied, sighing deeply.
“Excellent,” I said, pulling my phone so I could text Benji to get me a name. As I was doing that, Griff said my name so softly, I almost didn’t hear him. But when I looked at him, his eyes were locked on my face. The intensity of his gaze was surprising.
After a moment of us staring at each other, he finally asked, “What if somebody hurts you?” It troubled me how shaky his voice sounded.
“Nobody’s gonna hurt me,” I assured him. “A lot scarier people than whoever lives in this town have tried, and I’m still here.”
“Plus, you have to remember, he’s strapped,” Tatum said flatly.
Immediately, she had all our attention.
“What?” she asked, clearly unperturbed.
“Strapped?” Griff repeated. “You have got to stop watching those crime shows.”
“Yeah, but they always get the bad guy.”
“They do,” I agreed, then smiled at Griff. “And I am strapped.”
“Really?” He sounded so very pained. “You shouldn’t encourage her.”
But I couldn’t help myself.
FOUR
We bought so many groceries that the kids had to sit with crossed legs, as we filled up all the space on the floor, and they all had bags in their laps. After we finished schlepping them all in, we discovered a new message—singular, as in only one—on the machine. It was Luke conveying to the kids he was sorry Shelly couldn’t be with them, but that her mother was very sick, so she was needed there.
“Old news,” Griff muttered under his breath, and it was easy to read his annoyance in his voice and the furrow of his brows. “But at least he bothered to find out.”
The message continued with Luke telling Griff that some counselor from his school had been blowing up his phone, some guy named Nash, and to please get that sorted out because he was tired of hearing from this idiot.
“He didn’t actually listen to your messages, Nash,” Darwin comforted me, leaning into my side. “He wouldn’t have called you an idiot if he knew who you were.”
It was very kind of him to worry about my feelings, but he should have been more concerned about his father, whom I was going to murder when he returned. He was missing out on vital information at this point. Griff could have still been in custody, injured and not receiving treatment, while Tatum could’ve been badly hurt in a fire.
Luke Duchesne went on to explain to his children that he didn’t have his phone anymore. It had gone into the Boundary Bay. He left a number for them in case of a catastrophic emergency, as there was a guy on the construction team who had a satellite phone and would take calls if something was burning down or if someone was in the hospital. The guy sounded like a real prince.
“I know this is hard,” he concluded the message, “but this money will go a long way to getting us back on track, and I appreciate you all for stepping up. I know it’s a lot to ask of you all, especially you, Griff, but you know as well as I do that after dinner, it’s easy. Just make sure Dar and Tate eat—the pantry and freezer are stocked, so you should be good. I’ll see you all for sure on Friday. Love you.”
And then he was gone.
We listened to it twice.
I suspected Darwin was right. He had not listened to any of my messages, and they were now, probably, deleted. He’d listened to Shelly’s, but still, not great. And again, I knew he was doing the best he could, but he had no idea what was happening with his children.
Rumors of the horrors of Griff’s room had been wildly exaggerated. Was it messy? Yes. It was the bedroom of a sixteen-year-old boy. Of course it was a pit. But I didn’t need a hazmat suit and holy water to go in there. In fact, I was comfortable enough to sit with him inside the hobbit hole and roll his desk chair over to him as he took a seat on his bed. We needed to talk.