“How much older?”
Her expression is unreadable.
“Just a couple of years. Cade is twenty-two, and Darius is twenty.”
Her gaze flicks away, and I can see her doing the calculations in her head. Yes, I already had the two boys before I met her mother, but we weren’t together. I was too much of a fuckup back then to be a father to anyone, including Laney.
Her lips pinch. “I see. How are they going to feel about having a stepsister pushed onto them?”
“They’ll be fine. They’ll understand. They lost their mother, too, a long time ago.”
I hope I’m right about this. I haven’t exactly spoken to them yet, other than to send them both a quick text to explain. But like Ellen said, it’s only for a week or so. They’re grown men. They can handle it.
I hope.
“So, you ready?” I ask.
She blinks and nods, then glances back over her shoulder at the trailer. Fuck. I keep forgetting that this girl just lost her mom, and I’m now taking her away from the only home she’s ever known.
I gesture vaguely at the trailer. “Do you want to say goodbye?”
Honestly, the place looks like a goddamn shithole. She should be pleased to get away from there. I know I never looked back.
I think she’s going to say yes, but instead she folds her lips into a thin line, her nostrils flaring, and she shakes her head.
“Let’s go,” she says.
We say goodbye to the woman from CPS, and Laney follows me over to the car. The driver has been waiting behind the wheel, and he hops out to open the rear doors for us.
I feel guilty about the luxury of the vehicle. Even though I don’t own it, it’s a stark contrast to her trailer. I wonder what she’s going to make of the five-star hotel and suite I’ve booked for her. Before leaving to pick her up, I made sure the hotel we’re staying at had a room for her. She might be seventeen, but she’s almost an adult, and I’m sure the last thing she’ll want is to share a space with either me or her two stepbrothers.
She slides into the back seat beside me and sits primly with her bare knees pressed together and her fingers wound tightly in her lap. She doesn’t glance out of the window at the trailer or the authorities surrounding it. I can’t help but notice her smooth, tan skin or the way her long legs seem endless.
I catch myself and tear my gaze away. She’s under my protection now, and even though she’s not related to me by blood, there’s a moral code that I won’t cross.
The car starts up and, within minutes, we’ve left the trailer and the park behind. It hits me that I never asked if there would be a funeral for Estelle, if there is even anyone to arrange it. I guess she’ll have an autopsy done, considering she died suddenly, so it’ll be a little while before all those things will need to be put in place.
The vehicle crawls back toward the city, battling through downtown Los Angeles traffic until we get to the hotel.
I watch Laney for her reaction, but her expression remains impassive. Do I want her to be impressed by all this? Maybe. I can’t read what she’s feeling, though, or what she’s thinking, for that matter.
A concierge steps forward to open the rear door of the vehicle, and Laney climbs out. She wraps her arms around her body, and I can see the tension in her neck and shoulders. Her gaze darts around at others entering and leaving the hotel, and she seems to shrink.
“Do you have any luggage, sir?” the concierge asks me.
“No, I don’t.”
Laney doesn’t have any luggage either. In fact, she has nothing other than the tatty clothes she’s standing in and the cellphone sticking out of her back pocket. I’ll have to do something to change that.
In a couple of hours, we’ll be going to see Darius play at the concert hall. She can’t turn up in a pair of cutoffs, a long-sleeved tee, and a pair of sneakers. Despite who she is, and her relation to the star, I doubt they’ll even let her in.
I’d already collected her room keycard before leaving to pick her up, so we head straight through the lobby and to the elevators. One is already waiting open for us, so we step inside. I punch the key for the top floor, and the doors slide shut, enclosing us within its mirrored walls.
The elevator glides upward, and I will it to hurry. I have no idea what to say to the young woman beside me, and she’s making no effort to speak to me. Instead, she stands with her hands clasped in front of her body, her lips pressed together, not even looking up.
I take the moment to stare at her reflection in the mirrored walls that surround us. She’s too thin, but that doesn’t impact on her beauty. It only highlights her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips. I wonder if she’s got any idea how stunning she is.
We reach the right floor, and the elevator draws to a halt and the doors slide open. We step out into the corridor, the carpet thick and plush underfoot, and expensive artwork on the wood-paneled walls. Laney’s room is right down the hall from mine, and the boys are another couple of doors down from me—not that they’re in right now.