Instead of feeling like I would never be enough, I should be enjoying this time with her. It was still too awkward for me to call either one of them Mom and Dad. And for now, we all agreed Liana and Chandler were just fine.
An hour later, after I showered and got dressed, the two of us stood in the spare bedroom where I’d been sleeping. Liana came in with sample books of fabrics and paint colors, along with her iPad. This woman took decorating seriously. Then again, the immaculate state of her home showed her style and the pride she took in where she lived.
She swatched a dozen samples of paint colors on the wall and stepped back to view with a designer’s eye. “Which one?” she asked, glancing over at me.
I couldn’t believe this was my life now. I’d always had my own bedroom. Not one quite this size, but I’d always been able to make it my own, give it that flare of Josie. The difference this time… I didn’t have a budget, such a foreign concept for me. I didn’t know what to do. Or what to buy. There was too much damn space to fill up.
I wrestled with my bottom lip, scanning the colors. For this room, I wanted something different—something fresh—no reminders of Angie. I didn’t want that life to bleed into this one. “This one,” I said, pointing to a dark grey paint, just shades above black.
She lifted a slim brow, not a tiny hair out of place. “You sure?”
I nodded. “If that is okay, but only as an accent wall.” I wanted to keep the others a clean, soft white.
“I’ll let the painter know to start tomorrow. Now onto fabrics.” Turned out designing and decorating a bedroom was work. We sat on the bed, going through fabrics for curtains and bedding. I drew the line when she pulled out her laptop for furniture, assuring her that what was already in the room was beautiful enough.
Liana didn’t protest, but I could see she thought about it. Snapping her laptop closed, she laid it on her lap. “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Hmm?” I replied, pulling my gaze from the pretty grey fabric to glance up at Liana. I took notice of the serious lines that crinkled at the corner of her eyes, the same shape as mine.
“Chandler and I wanted to let you know that we spoke with our lawyers. No legal actions have been taken against Angelica. Not yet,” she added. “We don’t want to do anything along those lines without talking to you first. I understand this is a sensitive topic, and I want you to know that your feelings matter to us.”
I took a breath to let that all sink in. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“By getting our lawyers involved in the situation, we can assure that she doesn’t try to claim we are harboring a runaway. It will keep you from having to ever return to that house. That’s what you wanted, yes?”
I nodded. I could imagine all too well how Angie took the news. She knew now where I was, who I had run to, and knew she didn’t have a chance in hell of getting me back. No doubt she was a few bottles deep into a weekend stupor. “Thank you for letting me know. For all of it. You have no idea what it means for me to be here.” Where it was safe and warm. Where I didn’t have to worry about what my psychopathic brother might do to me when I was asleep. I kept all those comments to myself, but Liana could probably see it in my eyes.
“We want to make sure you’re protected and safe. Our lawyers will be in contact with the Pattersons. We are going to try and keep as much as we can out of the press and not draw too much attention. You don’t have to worry about anything,” she assured. “But once this does come out, I want you to be prepared.”
“I understand,” I replied, my chest suddenly feeling heavy.
She brushed a piece of my pink hair behind my ear. “We won’t do anything that you aren’t okay with. The only thing that matters is you.”
Tears stung my eyes.
I hadn’t decided yet how I felt about Angie. The idea of her behind bars wasn’t a picture I wanted to see, despite everything. I didn’t wish her harm. I just didn’t wish to see her at all. Not anytime soon, that was.
But it was evident that it was time I spoke with my father, Easton. He had to know the truth.
No one except Kenna woke up excited to go to school on Monday. I could kind of understand her enthusiasm. Returning home, getting to see old friends, and being able to get your life back. I understood it all.
But she was far too peppy, bouncing around the house at 7:00 a.m. She sang in the shower. Skipped up and down the stairs like a cheerleader on crack. And that was all before I even crawled out of bed for coffee.
My eyes were still half-closed. My hair was a mess. And I still had on my pajamas as I stood in the kitchen with Grayson as the whirlwind known as Kenna tore through. “Has she always been a morning person?” I grumbled, watching the coffee maker brew my grounds.
Grayson grunted. “It’s so fucking annoying.”
“Language,” Elise scolded as she busied herself in the kitchen, making Grayson breakfast. I declined her offer to whip something up for me. I never ate much in the mornings.
Taking my mug of coffee, I added a decent amount of creamer and heaps of sugar. I needed the rush to get me through the day. I turned around and faced Grayson, who was slouched in a chair with a plate of bagels. “So, bro. I need a favor.”
“No,” he stated.
“You don’t even know what it is yet,” I huffed.
His features remained unmoved as he looped the Academy tie over his neck. “I don’t need to. I already know it will get you in trouble.”
He had a point. I took a sip of my coffee and leaned against the counter. “I need to go see my dad after school. Easton,” I clarified. The family dynamics were muddled these days.