“I haven’t said much while you’ve been gallivanting off in San Francisco, and working for your friend’s little app development startup. But you’re working on something different, now. Something important.” Then he glances up at me. “Right?”
I furrow my brow, not sure where he’s going with this.
“I know you don’t need my money and connections. That you can work on this little Elite X project with Otto and Lucas without any help from me.”
And then he steps forward, standing just a foot, maybe two, away from me, his eyes menacing.
“But can you do it… against me.”
I flex a fist, the meaning of his words rolling through my whole body.
“How long do you think this little endeavor will last if I make buckling you at the knees a priority? No one in this town will work with any of you if I put the word out.”
And then he takes it a step further.
“And do you really think this little… thing you have going on with Henry Morrison’s daughter is going to last if I make sure she can’t find a job? If I unleash the hounds on her? Make sure every catty bitch in town sees her as a target?”
He shakes his head, and I know I’ve been well and truly sunk.
I might have knocked my dad onto the ground, left a mark on his face, but I’m the one who feels like I’ve been sprawled on my ass, my legs swept out from underneath me.
Finding a way to come out on the other side of this when it comes to the Elite X thing? Manageable. Otto and Lucas are resourceful. And they hate my dad as much as I do.
But it was his comments about Hannah that have me ready to throw in a towel. Give him whatever he wants.
“Blow off this speech, and I’ll just have to take these little matters into my own hands.”
I shake my head, disbelief coursing through my system, even while resignation is threading its way through my very being.
“I’ll have my secretary send you the details,” he says. Then he gives me a little wave. “See you soon, Wyatt.”
I’m left alone then.
Alone to lick my wounds.
Filled with anger and frustration, I do the only thing I can think of.
Without any gloves on, I turn and beat the shit out of the bag, imagining my father’s face the entire time.
The following day, two days after our meeting with Dr. Lyons, my mom gets an email that she should call the doctor’s office. Ivy and I crowd into the office to listen, and my mom puts it on speaker.
But I can already feel the sense of foreboding.
“Hannah’s blood results have come back,” she says, her voice echoing in the small space. “I’ve already spoken with her and she gave me permission to provide the news to you all. Hannah is not a full match with Ivy, so she isn’t a good pairing for a bone marrow transplant donation. I’m so sorry.”
Ivy can’t hear it over the phone, but I sign it to her.
Hannah’s not a match.
Her shoulders fall and she leaves the office, her little feet racing up the stairs and probably to her bedroom, where I hear a door slam.
“Thank you, Dr. Lyons,” my mom says. “Please keep us posted on the donor match process.”
And then she hangs up the phone.
“I have plans with Gigi Forrester. I’ll be back late tonight.”
My mouth drops open. “You’re leaving?”
She looks at me, her mask carefully in place. “I have somewhere I need to be. I said I’ll be back later.”
I pick up a paperweight off the desk and fling it angrily at a mirror that hangs over the fireplace. It shatters, pieces spraying all over the ground.
My mom shrieks, putting her hands up to protect herself as if the glass is anywhere near her.
“Your daughter is upstairs, probably bawling her eyes out, because she’s afraid she’s going to fucking die!” I shout at her, blood pumping angrily through my veins. “And you want to run off and pretend life is grand with people you barely care about. At all. What is wrong with you?”
She points a finger at me, her face furious. “Don’t get angry with me. I’m the one who has been here dealing with this while you were off doing god knows what and god knows whom. I’ve been doing it alone! And no one even cares. Your father doesn’t and Ben doesn’t. You barely did until recently. It’s been just me. So excuse me if I need a minute to myself.”
“That’s not how being a mom fucking works,” I shout back. “That’s not how this gets to play out. And bullshit you’ve been doing this alone. You’ve been doing this with Ivy. The one who is scared to fucking death and needs her mom.”
Her nostrils flare and her neck flushes red, her tell tail signs of embarrassment and frustration.
“You think you can come in here and solve all of the problems with a few words? That you can show up here with Henry’s daughter and save the day? Fix all of the problems that have been choking the life out of us for years? That is something that doesn’t work, Wyatt. You don’t get to come in with your sanctimonious ideas and your broad theories and apply them to my life.” She shakes her head. “You don’t get to control what happens. You really are a Calloway if you think any differently.”
And then she storms out of the room before I can think up anything to say in response.
I stand there alone, looking at the mess I made, feeling like the life I live is starting to crumble and twist and change around me.
I don’t know myself.
I don’t know what I want or where to go.
No, that’s a lie.
I know what I want.
Ivy to find a match.
And Hannah.
That’s it.
It doesn’t feel like too big of an order.
Those two things should be doable.
Surely I can figure out a way to have both.
I spend the next twenty minutes picking up the shattered glass, slicing my fingers a few times, though it matches nicely with the open cuts on my knuckles from when I socked my dad in the face yesterday afternoon and then beat the shit out of the bag without any gloves on.
I’ll be feeling those cuts for a few days to come.
Eventually, I manage to get everything picked up, then vacuum for good measure.
When I’m turning off the machine, I hear a beep in my pocket.
Pulling out my phone I glance at the screen, my blood running cold when I see the message.
Lucas: Get over here. Hannah’s leaving.
I immediately dial his number, and he picks up on the third ring.
“What do you mean she’s leaving,” I ask, my voice hoarse.
“I mean she’s leaving. She found out she’s not a match for Ivy.” He pauses, lets out a sigh. “I’m so sorry about that. God, I really thought it would happen. That she’d be…”
“Focus, Lucas!” I bark into the phone. I know he cares deeply about my sister – our sister – but now isn’t the time for his emotion. I need to know what’s going on with Hannah.
“Sorry. She’s going back to Phoenix. She already bought her ticket. Her bus leaves tonight.”
Pacing the room I try to figure out what to do.
“I can’t come over right now. I have to spend time with Ivy. She’s a mess over this. Can you stall her? Talk her in to doing a bus tomorrow instead?”
He sighs. “Maybe. I’ll try.”
Then he hangs up and I squeeze my phone in my hand, pressing a fist to my forehead.
Everything is moving so fast.
Too fast.
I just want it to slow down so I can think. I can barely think.
I take a deep breath, then let it out.
After doing that a few more times, I head upstairs. In this moment, right now, I need to focus on Ivy. On my younger sister who is still just a girl, feeling alone and scared.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I get up to her room and open the door just a smidge, expecting to find my sister crying on her bed.
But it’s still made, he
r bedroom lights off.
Pushing the door all the way open, I flick the lights and glance around.
She’s not here.
I blow through her room to her bathroom. Then I check all of the other bedrooms. I’ve never resented my sister being deaf until this moment, when I can’t call out to her when I need to find her.
And after checking every room of the house like a crazy person, my worst fears are confirmed.
Ivy is gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Hannah
A small part of me hopes Wyatt will come to say goodbye. A little voice that wants me to forgive him and move on so I can spend every night in his arms.
But I’ve been telling that bitch to keep quiet, because I’m busy brooding.
So when there’s a knock at the front door, I can’t help but be a little happy about it.
Though I’m surprised to see Ivy when I answer the front door.
She rushes me, wrapping her arms around my middle and giving me a tight squeeze.
Hey sweet stuff, I say, once she’s finally let go of me so I can speak to her. What are you doing here?
I glance behind her, out to the courtyard, wondering if I’ll be seeing Wyatt round the corner. But there isn’t anyone there, so I look back to Ivy.
No, I’m here by myself.
I furrow my brow. Are you allowed to be here by yourself?
I know she’s just turned thirteen, and I try to remember my own freedom at that age. My situation might not have been common, but I can only imagine that my parents wouldn’t have let me wander off on my own at so young.
Tack on Ivy’s red eyes, and the fact she came on foot? I’m gonna guess this is some sort of runaway situation.
Now that I am incredibly familiar with.
Ivy rolls her eyes at my question, walking past me and into the house. Then she spins around to look at me. I’m definitely old enough to be here. Now, I want to try some alcohol. Where does Lucas keep that?
I laugh, but sober myself when I realize she’s serious. Well, as much as I’d love to help you, I don’t think your family would be happy about me giving alcohol to a minor.
She glares at me, and I can see the look of determination in her eyes.
I’m going to die, so they’ll get over it, she says, matter-of-factly.
My eyes widen.
Apparently Dr. Lyons has given them the news. It should have occurred to me the minute she showed up at the door with tears drying on her cheeks.
Honey, that is not true at all. You have to know that you’re going to be okay.
“Don’t lie to me!” she shouts, her facial expression turning angry, her jaw gritting and her eyes welling with tears. “I’m sick of everyone lying to me!”
I’ve never heard Ivy verbalize before, and the sound of it breaks my heart. Because it isn’t the sound of a happy, gleeful young lady with her whole life ahead of her. It’s a painful sound, full of anger and laced with fear.
She paces in front of me, her hands gripped in fists. And then she spins and looks right at me.
The doctors lied and said I was fine. And then everyone lied about me having a sister. Ben lies about why he wants to stay away and Wyatt lies about not wanting to leave. They’re still lying about Lucas, like I don’t know he’s my brother too. Like I don’t know that my dad isn’t really my dad.
I stand frozen as Ivy has an absolutely deserved meltdown, her emotions pouring out from her.
I’m going to die soon. I know it. Everyone pretends all the time, and I’m sick of it. I just want the truth.
And then she crumples onto the couch, her body wracked with sobs.
I rush to her side, sliding in next to her.
Her little frame wraps around mine, her body shuddering as she tries to deal with the emotional storm in her body, all of the fears coming to a head and exploding on the closest person.
Me.
So I run my hand through her hair, rocking her slightly, singing to her even though I know she can’t hear me.
Lissy always used to say that she liked ‘hearing’ me sing after I tucked her in on the nights I babysat, because she could feel my body rumbling. She didn’t know the words or the songs or the beat, but she liked that little bit of vibration.
So I do the same for Ivy, and her sobs slowly start to pull back. Before I know it, she’s fallen asleep on me, pooped out from the hard work of carrying the weight of everyone’s problems.
I hold her for a moment longer, feeling so thankful that, in rest, her anxious and upset face has given way to something calm. All I can hope is that sleeping gives her a moment’s reprieve.
I give her a soft kiss at the crown of her hair, then move as slowly as I can to shift her so she is sleeping against the couch pillows. Once I cover her with a blanket, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, I get out my phone and give Wyatt a call.
As much as I don’t want to talk to him, I can’t just not let him know that his sister is here.
It rings a few times before he answers.
“Hannah I really want to talk to you but Ivy is missing,” he says, the panic in his voice slicing through me.
“She’s here,” I say, not wanting to beat around the bush at all. “She showed up and started crying and now she’s asleep on the couch. She got here about ten minutes ago.”
“Oh my god,” he says, his voice coming out in a rush. “Gimme a second.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line, and I try to picture what he’s doing. Maybe he’s slumped against a wall in relief, or he’s clenching his phone in anger. But if I know Wyatt at all, which is up for debate, he’s standing with his hands on his hips, forcing himself to breathe slowly.
“Thanks for calling me,” he says a moment later, once he’s collected himself enough to talk again. “I was a mess.”
“I can tell,” I say, the little chuckle coming out unintentionally. “I’m sorry you were so worried. But she’s okay.”
There’s a pause.
“Lucas said you’re leaving.”
I sigh.
The idea of leaving without anyone knowing was a decision I made as soon as I got off the phone with Dr. Lyons. I opened up a greyhound app and found a ticket for tonight at midnight leaving from Union Station.
It just seemed easier. Leaving all of this behind, since I can’t be of use to anyone anyway.
“Yeah. We’re leaving for the bus station at ten.”
“That’s only a few hours from now,” he rushes out. “Hannah, you can’t just… leave.”
I shake my head. “I can. And it’s probably for the best.”
“You’re wrong. There’s so much here for you.”
And I can’t help myself when the next words pour from my lips. “Like what? A brother who tricked me into coming here, a bunch of rich people I don’t fit in with, a city too expensive for me to live in, and a boy who got to use me in plenty of ways,” I say, my voice cracking at the end as emotion floods me.
“Hannah,” his voice is tortured. “Please let me explain. I didn’t mean that. I swear. I said it in anger, not because I…”
“Wyatt, you promised you never wanted to hurt me. And you said it knowing you were going to. This is why I wanted you not to make any promises. I told you to promise me nothing, and things would be a lot easier. But instead, you made me believe something. Made me believe in something. And then you stole it from me.”
He starts to protest again but I cut him off.
“I called to tell you about Ivy, not to talk this out. Please come by and get her because we have to leave in a few hours.”
And then I hang up the phone, just as I hear footsteps coming down the stairs.
Lucas takes in my facial expression and pauses. But before he can say anything, Ivy stirs on the couch.
She stays asleep, and Lucas comes to my side, glancing down at her. “Is that Ivy?”
I nod. “She knows you’re her brother,” I say. “And that Calvin isn’t her
dad.”
Lucas’ mouth drops open, but I look out the window to the ocean in the distance, though it’s hard to see with how dark it is.
“She has a lot going on in that mind of hers. I think she ran away. Or just needed a break from her house.”
“Like sister like sister, huh?” Lucas says.
I spin around and look at him.
“What do you mean?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Sometimes, when life hurts, or gets too hard, you need a little space and perspective before you go back and face things.”
Then he turns and heads into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water.
I nod. “Like me leaving Phoenix and now going back.”
“Or you leaving here.” Lucas takes a sip of his water, then recaps it. “Maybe you need space and perspective about what has happened here, so you’re running away for a little bit.”
“That’s not what’s happening,” I say, crossing my arms.
But he just nods, gives me a little shrug. One that oozes of a confidence I wish I had. “Maybe.”
“Definitely.”
“Okay.”
I stomp a foot – really mature of me – and bark at him. “Stop it. You’re twisting this, making it seem like I’m running when I’m not. I don’t fit here. I don’t belong. I never did.”
“According to who?”
His face is soft when he asks me that, and I know he doesn’t mean to make me emotional, but I feel this sudden urge to break down in tears.
It’s an unwelcome feeling. I’ve done enough crying recently.
“You’ve repeated yourself over and over. That you don’t belong here. That you don’t fit. You said it when you got here, you just said it again now. But you are the only one saying that, Hannah.”
He sets his water bottle down, and crosses his own arms.
“From what I see, you’ve found a job, made friends, enjoyed time with family, and fell in love. Sounds to me like you found a place you belong.”
I shake my head. “It’s not like that. You don’t know…”
“You’re right. I don’t know. I don’t know and I never will. And that’s my fault. If I had been there, maybe I could have changed how your life turned out. Maybe I could have made it so you weren’t afraid of relying on people. Maybe I could have shown you that you can believe some of the promises people make. But I wasn’t there to do it then. So all I can do is try and prove it to you now.”
Promise Me Nothing (Hermosa Beach Book 1) Page 33