Page 113 of Time Out

Oh god.

“Davis,” I rasped and squeezed his hand. I was shaking.

“He’s right.” He pressed his lips to my temple. “He’s right, and Christian can get this taken care of faster than we can. Your siblings deserve to be safe, and he can make that happen.”

I knew that. Obviously I wanted that and was determined to do it.

But…

“My mom. And the kids… what will happen?”

“We’ll be prepared for anything. But this is what family does, Maggie. A real family who loves each other. You’re family to him, a daughter, and right now, I’m guessing he’s raging at the very idea of anyone touching Belle like that. How horrific a man needs to be to do such things, and he’s reacting the way a decent man does. Let him help you. Let him help save Ruth.”

“Monday, Michael, I want this shit taken care of, and I want it done now.”

He tore the phone away from his ear, stabbed a button, and with eyes blown black with anger, Christian took a large chug of his drink. If the burn of alcohol affected him, he didn’t show it.

“I am so very sorry you’ve had to live like that,” he finally said, chest heaving but voice calm and tender. “That should never happen. I will fix this for all of you.”

I shoved my face into Davis’s shoulder and cried.

How could I have gone so long with ignoring what was probably happening and not asking for help when I knew it was so desperately needed?

It was happening now, though.

That had to be good enough.

Chapter 34

Maggie

The days flew by. After our dinner with Christian and Scarlett, Davis and I returned home, talked through everything that was happening, and made some decisions.

My first decision was to call Madison and quit my job.

Between Ruth, the drama I knew would be coming with my family, the pregnancy, and the possibility of me singing, Davis convinced me to let him take care of me so I could have the energy to fight for everything good.

She was upset but understanding, and since she hadn’t done the next week’s schedule, I finished out the weekend, working Friday through Sunday and then turned in my apron and name tag.

She’d given me a hug, made me promise to keep her updated on my baby’s arrival and told me to call her to grab lunch sometime.

Funny how it hadn’t hit me that my boss had actually liked me, that Will and Elsie and several of the other servers were sad to see me go. They were upset about missing me, but not about being short-staffed. I hadn’t realized how closed off I’d been to people until Elsie threw her arms around me, hugged me, and told me she’d miss me.

Davis was right. I hadn’t been alone, I’d chosen to be to protect myself, but he barreled into my life and ensured that would never happen again.

I wasn’t complaining.

The last week was spent mostly with Ruth. I took her to a few baby stores, and we oohed and ahhed over all the tiny little, store-bought baby clothes we’d never had, and we went shopping for some maternity clothes. I convinced Ruth to upgrade her homemade clothing to some store-bought skirts and even dresses that still allowed her to be modest and comfortable, but definitely started showing off her figure, which was taller and leaner than mine. A breakthrough, small as it was, came through the day she asked me to put makeup on her, not a lot. Some blush and mascara to start with. I straightened her hair and gave it a little trim. Halfway through, she told me to take more off, so her hair was still long, well past her shoulders. However, we looked it up online, found out how to donate the length we were cutting, and she was thrilled she could help have her hair go to an organization that made wigs for children going through chemo.

Now, every morning, before she came down for breakfast, she was wearing a light covering of blush and mascara and her smiles seemed to come easier and more frequent.

Christian called me Monday morning, first thing, to tell me it was going to take longer to find information on my uncle and father. He had someone talking to the show’s producer, demanding footage that hadn’t aired to see if the production company knew and hid any of the abuse happening. It would take more time, and I was anxious every day, but for Ruth, who we’d only shared necessities with, I kept it to myself.

Someday, when we know more, I’d share everything.

By the following Wednesday, I had driven Ruth so crazy with my need to be busy since I wasn’t working and Davis was at practice every day, she told me if I didn’t call Mr. Connelly and accept the help for singing, she was going to call him herself.

“If I have to hear you singing one more song while you grocery shop or standing stupid in the kitchen or walk outside, I’m going to scream at you for wasting this talent.”

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