Page 34 of Surrender

The longer Declan remains silent the more my anxiety increases. I want to grab him by the shoulders and shake an answer out of him.

Instead, he wraps a large hand around one of my wrists, something I've noticed he does when he wants my full attention. The pressure and feel of him is grounding.

"That's up to you, Ser. We obviously need to let the police know you're not actually missing, so they don't waste resources looking for you. But whether you want to turn your parents in or not is your choice."

Turn my parents in?

I wonder what they've gotten into in the two weeks I've been gone. I wonder how bad it's gotten. They're certainly out of food by now. I try to recall if the water and electricity were due yet, but I honestly haven't paid that much attention to even what the date is. That alone sends me reeling.

A squeeze on my wrist brings me back.

"I... I don't know..."

I appreciate that he's here for me. That he knows how to ground me when I need it the most, but this information is just too much. They're clearly drug addicts, and Gary hit me, which is completely unacceptable, but they're the only parents I have. My mom did her best to raise me, even if that meant I raised myself more often than not. And yeah, they took my ADHD and anxiety medication, which made things harder for me. But what are the options? They get arrested for possession and go to jail?

But then they had their friend try to... what? Abduct me? Drag me back home? Kidnap me? Is that all he would have done? Lord knows the unsavory people Gary hangs out with.

And I'd just gotten my first paycheck. My bank account actually had a balance in it. I was just starting to make a way for myself. I don't know what I'm going to do with the money, but staring at the black numbers had started to shift something inside of me. I wasn't simply surviving anymore, and maybe I could start to see a version of a future that was more than struggle. If I gave them the money, it would be eaten up by their addiction. Maybe it would pay the rent for a bit longer? But to what end? Their addiction wasn't ever going to end, because they didn't want it to end. They made no attempts to get sober or even feel any remorse for what they were doing.

But maybe that's the answer.

The best way to help my mom is to help myself. They'll never give up harassing me, trying to get me to go back, to get money out of me. Especially now that I have Declan. They'll figure outwho he is. They've already seen his car, driver, his expensive suits and watch. They'll never stop harassing me now that they know I have access to real money. Think of what they would do if I had more than my measly paycheck from the cafe. If I made good money. They'd buy more and more drugs until they eventually overdosed.

I hate that my mom is an addict. I hate the shame and the anxiety and disappointment that came along with that. But I'd hate even more if she died because of her addiction. I understand that addiction is a disease. She's not completely to blame.

But if she were cut off completely? If she were in jail? If the state could help her detox? Maybe she'd be able to get away from Gary. Get a new start on life. Learn a skill or get a hobby. At the very least she'd be healthy.

And that's all that I really want - for my mom to be healthy and maybe someday happy. Without drugs.

I haven't fully decided yet if that's the best choice, but at the very least I know I need to speak to the police and let them know I'm not missing. They don't need to waste any resources trying to locate me.

"Can I call the police department and just talk to them?"

"We can try, but they may want proof that you're not under duress."

We call, but just as Declan suspected, they want to see me in person and get a statement. I guess I understand if I really had been kidnapped or something they'd want proof that I was who I said I was and that I wasn't being threatened.

Declan cuts my shift early, leaving Madame to ferry drinks. I protest at first, but she rushes me out of the door with a smile on her face.

Just after ten PM, Joseph drives us to the police department. On the way there, I nervously play with the hem of my clubpolo, thinking of what to say. What to do if they're there when I arrive. I should have changed into something less recognizable. But if Todd grabbed me outside of the club, I'm sure my parents already know I'm working there.

Declan wraps his warm hand around my wrist again and squeezes.

"What do I say?"

"Well," he says thoughtfully. "I would tell the truth. Cops are trained to spot liars, and you, my dear, are a shit liar."

A half-chuckle, half-sigh escapes me, but I appreciate his attempt to lighten the situation.

"So, I escaped a bad situation with my family and moved in with my... friend?" I offer. He smiles.

"I think that's the best explanation of events, and completely true. Only go into as much detail as you want. The Envelope is above board on all things, so don't worry about trying to protect it, or us. Just worry about you."

"Okay," I nod as we pull up in front of the police department. Joseph puts the car in park before Declan undoes his seatbelt.

My hand shoots to his arm. "You can't come in."

His frown is immediate.

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