Page 68 of Psycho

“I take her out for ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” I repeated skeptically. Ryleigh wasn’t two, and neither was Lainey. How the hell would I go about bribing her with sweets?

“Yup. Works all the time.”

I nodded. “Sure. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait, Micah. Don’t you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“But I’m your brother. It’s good to share things with your brother.”

I hung up on him without saying anything, looking out at the front door.

Minutes later, she came out with a duffle bag slung over her shoulder.

I got out and met her by the hood of the truck. We didn’t say anything for a long moment.

And despite what Roman said, I doubted ice cream would make her tell me what the fuck went on during school and who had hurt her.

I felt about as awkward as a thirteen-year-old virgin, unsure of what I was supposed to do with myself. I shook my head in disgust and grabbed the duffle bag from her. She didn’t put up a fight, and I shoved the bag into the backseat of the car, taking in the light weight of it. It wasn’t that big of a bag. I didn’t know why it bothered me so much that she had lived with Ozzy for so many years, and still, she only had what was left in this duffle bag and her backpack from last night to show for.

The girl needed new clothes.

I was half tempted to burn the shit and take her to the nearest mall.

Only the fact that she looked half-dead on her feet did I bite my tongue.

She was already inside the truck when I climbed in.

I put in the call for an Italian restaurant, letting the car’s Bluetooth system kick in, and let her order what she wanted.

She sputtered a bit before she said in a small voice, “Lasagna.”

I doubled the order and hung up.

“When can I see my grandma?” she asked as I turned out of the land and away from the trailer.

The more distance I could put between us and that shit hole, the better.

“Soon.”

“How soon is soon?” she asked.

“Soon.”

She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat, her fists coming up and slamming down against her thighs.

I grabbed one hand and pulled it away from her lap and toward my own. She tensed.

“Stop doing that,” I said.

“What? Hurt myself? Are you worried I might damage your property?”

There was no missing the sarcastic note in her voice.

“Yes,” I answered seriously.

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