If our mother didn’t cause trouble, that is. Noah didn’t think she would because he gave her a monthly allowance from the profits we made from the garage. He’d threatened to make that disappear if Mom wanted to stick her nose in it. However, I wasn’t so sure she wouldn’t. She was a drama queen and was liable to stir shit up just for the hell of it. I was still sixteen for two more weeks, and even when I turned seventeen I wasn’t sure if she couldn’t get the cops involved because I would still technically be a minor.
Anxiety clenched in my gut at the thought of Noah being hauled away in cuffs because he’d wanted to take care of me. Jacob and Mom would probably have a good laugh watching Noah go to jail.
Oh, Christ. I couldn’t let my brother get in trouble. No way. He had a bright future ahead of him with not only the garage but with his music. Noah had an amazing voice. He could go far in the music world if he was able to stick with it.
Damn it.
I couldn’t let him risk going to jail over this. I couldn’t let him throw away his chances of doing something amazing with his life and his career. I couldn’t….
“You going to study?”
My head snapped up at the sound of Noah’s voice. He was standing in the doorway with grease smeared over his cheek and forehead. He looked tired, but I didn’t see so much as a sign of worry on his handsome face. Did he not understand what he could be losing if I stayed there?
“Noah, I have to go home.”
His lips tightened and he moved away from the door, slamming it shut behind him as he crossed to the couch and glared down at me. “Don’t start this again, Annabelle. Everything is going to be okay. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I’ve already taken care of it, actually. Devlin, Wroth, and Z are going to pick up Chelsea and stop by Mom’s house. They are going to pack up everything you need and bring it over. I’ve told Mom what’s going to happen and what won’t happen if she doesn’t let you stay here with me.”
He dropped down on the edge of the couch beside me, a smug-ass grin on his face. “She tried to run her fucking mouth, but I shut her bitching up real quick when I told her she wasn’t going to get two dimes out of me if she tried to make a scene over this. I told her plain and simple that she had two options. One, you get to live with me and I still pay her the money she lives off of. Or, two, I call CPS, tell them what she’s been doing and allowing Jacob to do, and the money stops and she goes to jail for child neglect and endangerment. Either way I would still get to keep you since I have a stable job, my own place to live, and a bunch of other crap that would qualify me as a capable family member to look after you.”
“So she’s really going to let me stay here?” I asked, biting the inside of my cheek to contain my hope.
Noah’s lips lifted in a sad kind of smile. “Yes, Annabelle. She doesn’t have a leg to stand on. She can’t do shit to make you go back.” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, what sounded like a tortured breath leaving his chest. “I still can’t believe you were going through hell and I didn’t know.” He opened his eyes and met my gaze. “Don’t you know that you are all I have left, Annabelle? I’d be lost without you, sweetheart.”
I threw myself into my brother’s arms, not caring that he was covered in grease and grime and going to get me filthy. A broken sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh choked me as it bubbled out of my throat.
I was going to be safe, and Noah’s future wasn’t going to get thrown in the trash because of me.
Everything was going to be okay. We were going to be just fine.
C HAPTER S IX
Zander
The ride back to my house was a quiet one. Devlin and I both had our jaws clenched, our faces tight with determination. Noah had called Wroth’s house and we’d all decided we would be there with Chelsea when she went in to pick up Annabelle’s things. Honestly, with just Wroth there we knew Chelsea would have no problems getting the things that Annabelle needed, but I wanted to be there.
I fucking needed to be there.
Since Wroth was the one who had spoken to Noah, I had no idea how Annabelle was handling all of this. Wroth had simply told us that Noah wanted him to pick up Chelsea and grab Annabelle’s things. I was lucky to have gotten that much of an explanation out of the dude. Wroth wasn’t much of a talker; he said as little as possible most of the time.
I pulled into my driveway but didn’t move to get out of the truck. Devlin and I remind quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts as we waited for Wroth’s mother’s old Jeep Cherokee to pull into the driveway that separated mine from Dev’s. When it did, a normally perky Chelsea jumped out of the front passenger seat with a look on her face that seriously made me glad I wasn’t the one on the receiving end of her temper.
Devlin opened his door and I followed behind quickly. Glancing at my house, I saw my grandmother standing in the front window watching, and I shook my head at her. The look on her face told me she knew that whatever was going on in my fucked-up head wasn’t good. She put her fingers to her lips, concern on her wrinkled but still beautiful face. I waved once and jogged to catch up to Devlin and Wroth who were standing on the front steps of Annabelle’s front porch.
Chelsea stood by the door, her finger holding down the doorbell without letting up on it. From inside the house I heard Wendy Cassidy-Malcolm cursing as she stomped to the front door. “I’m coming. I’m coming,” she yelled.
Chelsea didn’t release the doorbell until the door opened to a fuming Mrs. Cassidy-Malcolm. “What the fuck do you four want?” she snarled before lifting a Dixie cup of what smelled like fruit punch to her lips.
We all knew that it wasn’t just fruit punch in that cup. She was notorious for loving her vodka and wine, and from the way her eyes were bloodshot, and with the way she seemed unsteady on her feet, we all knew she was more than three sheets to the wind. My guess was vodka was her drink of choice that night. Annabelle had told me that her mother loved to mix her alcohol with fruity juices, normally adding a third of the bottle to her concoctions.
Chelsea crossed her arms over her busty chest. She and Noah’s mother had never gotten along and neither had made a secret of that. Noah had started dating Chelsea our freshmen year and they had been connected at the hip ever since. The two might have fought like cats and dogs at least once a day, but they made up before either fell asleep every night.
Mrs. Cassidy-Malcolm hadn’t liked Chelsea from day one because Chelsea wasn’t shy about her feelings for the other woman. That’s one of the things I liked so much about my friend’s girlfriend. You always knew where you stood with her because she told you straight to your face. She was a little spitfire. There had been more than a few occasions where she’d missed school over the years because of suspensions from getting into fights. Not all of them had been with girls, either.
“Noah told me he already talked to your drunk ass, so don’t act stupid, bitch. I’m here to get Annabelle’s things. These guys are here to make sure you and your fucking loser of a husband don’t get in my way.”
Mrs. Cassidy-Malcolm took a long swallow from her Dixie cup. “Jacob isn’t here.”
“Good.” Chelsea went to walk into the house, but the older woman didn’t move aside.
I tensed, ready to step in if they started fighting. I would have paid good money to see Chelsea kick her ass, but I didn’t want to have to bail her out of the county jail when she got arrested for assault. Beside me, Devlin started to step forward just as I did, but Wroth was closer and much more effective. He stepped up behind Chelsea and crossed his arms over his chest. Something on his face must have gotten through to Mrs. Cassidy-Malcolm’s drunken mind because she gulped and stepped back in the next second.