Page 22 of Surrender

As my fingers rinse the suds, I can’t help but wonder when’s the last time someone other than Whitney cared for her. Does she have grandparents? Family friends? She mentioned an aunt. I wonder if they’re close. Does she have other adults in her life to spend time with?

My thoughts shift to my own family. The big group. My twin brother, Jude, who I’d give my life for. My brother Lee and his girlfriend, Juniper. Juniper’s brother, Lincoln, who lives with them. Corjan, Bree, and their new baby, Charlotte. Cortney and her son, Oliver, and the guy she’s been dating, although I don’t have a good enough read on him yet. The youngest, Aiden, who hasn’t quite grown up yet despite being in his thirties but still manages to show up for all the important events. And Mom. The glue that holds us all together. The one who picked us up when we needed someone most and brought us into her home.

Even at my loneliest times, the lowest points in my life, I was never truly alone. I always had Jude.

Then I had the Powells.

They’re my people. My found family.

I can’t help but wonder who Whitney has. Or if she and her kids have anyone at all.

7

Whitney

I slam to a stunned halt and cock my head. Lucy sits in the recliner, wrapped in a fluffy gray towel with her coloring book on her lap. Her short blond strands hang damp around her face.

“You washed her hair.”

Jack swipes a towel over the corner of his couch. I wince.

“She might need a full bath, but I took care of what I could in her hair. Her shirt’s soaking in the laundry. The sheets were done, so I started a new load. If you want to throw Bennett’s dirty clothes in there, just lift the lid and toss ‘em in,” he says without lifting his head.

For a minute, I don’t move. I’m not sure I remember how to. Bennett yanks a strand of my own damp hair, and the sharp pain on my scalp spurs me into action. I turn stiffly and walk into the laundry room to do as Jack suggested.

The only movement when I return is Jack cleaning his couch.

“I’m sorry about all this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He dabs the stain once, then again, before standing and looking down at the dark, wet leather with a furrow in his brow.

“Can you clean it?” I ask nervously.

“I don’t think so.” He shrugs his shoulders and walks past me with the dirty towel in his hand. The water runs from the laundry sink, I’m assuming to wash his hands, and he returns empty-handed.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

Half of his mouth quirks into a smirk. “You want to buy me a couch?”

My heart punches my rib cage. “Yes. I’ll replace it as soon as I can.”

“Your offer comes from a good place, but I’m not going to let you do that.”

An unexplainable panicky feeling rises within me. “I’ll give you some money, then. Maybe a professional cleaner can take care of it.”

Jack steps closer. Close enough I need to tip my chin up to catch his gray eyes. “Breathe, Whitney.”

“I am breathing,” I snark back.

He nods once. “It’s just a couch.”

“I—”

“I can buy a new one. I can buy ten new couches. It’s not a problem.”

I roll my bottom lip between my teeth. “I feel really guilty.”

“You shouldn’t.” He lifts his hand between us, and for a moment, I think he’s going to touch me, but then he lets it fall limp at his side. “My family owns a dog rescue. I’m not sure if you knew that. I take in a foster to work on behaviors a couple of times a year. More than once, I’ve ended up with messes or the dog chewed the absolute shit out of something necessitating a replacement.”

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