Page 33 of Forbidden Girl

I don’t know what to say, how to phrase it. There are no words on the tip of my tongue; I’m drawing from an empty well. It was unfathomable. It shouldn’t be; I know Teague’s temperament. Still, we’ve been so close our entire lives. He truly is the nearest thing I have to a brother. I feel that way about him in my heart; it wasn’t a line I fed him to get my way. And because we love each other I never thought he’d hurt me. Turns out his love comes with terms and conditions.

Rowan sees how much I’m struggling, mouths I’ve got this, and pops into the frame. “Mrs. Calloway, your nephew showed up to where we’re staying. He tracked Juliet’s phone. When he found us together, he got aggressive. He drew his gun. We fought. Jules tried to stop him, and he hit her with it. On purpose. I reacted very poorly to that because I love your daughter. I couldn’t stand to see her hurt and I was worried that he would… do something to her that wouldn’t heal. Teague is on his way to the hospital. He’ll be fine, but it’s gonna take a while. I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep Jules from getting injured, and I’m sorry that I let my anger get the best of me and hurt Teague so badly. I’m not a violent person, but I do a violent job.”

My mother’s lips are squeezed in a thin, tight line. That’s not anger, it’s rage. The question is, over what?

“My nephew struck my daughter with his gun.” Oh. It’s not in any way an interrogation. She’s sorting through the facts.

“Yes, he did.”

“And you gave the little shit the whooping he should have gotten ages ago from his father.”

Rowan is so taken aback her eyebrows look like they’re climbing up her face to hide in her hair. She clears her throat. “Yes, ma’am, I did do that. Yes.”

“And you love my topolina.”

“Mom!” Never too old for your mom to embarrass you.

Rowan glances at me, confused.

I mumble, “It means little mouse.”

Rowan’s grin lets me know she thinks it’s endearing. “Yes, I do. Very much.”

“Well then. Thank you for taking care of Juliet even though it meant putting yourself at risk, and making some hard choices.”

“I’d do it again. Although I’d prefer not to have to.”

“Yes, I think we would all prefer that.”

“Definitely,” I chime in.

“This is only going to escalate. We may need to come up with an exit strategy for you both.” There’s a sly glint in my mother’s eyes as she says it, like she’d been plotting this course for a long time.

“An exit strategy.” Rowan mulls. To me, she says, “You take after your mom a lot.”

“I like you,” my mom tells her.

“Honestly? Same, Mrs. Calloway. None of this was something I chose. I was born into it, and my dad is?—”

“I understand. I do.” Mom frowns. “Give me some time to think, girls.”

“Rowan had an idea. A good one. Although, it might be extremely hard and expensive to pull off.”

“Let’s not discuss it on the phone. Was Teague conscious on his way to the hospital?”

I nod. “Yes, but not in any shape to talk.”

“I hate to say it, but that’s beneficial. If he can’t talk about what happened, it’ll give us time.”

“Should I come home?”

“No. Gino’s wake is tomorrow. His parents are burying him Saturday.”

Oh, no. Teague is going to miss it. That’s something I do feel bad about. Rowan sighs, rueful. “I want—” she starts, stops, considers. “It’s not enough, nothing I can do would be enough, but I want to send a funeral spray. Anonymously. Is that crass? I… I don’t know.” Her voice trembles and her eyes are glassy, shining with a hint of tears.

“It’s a lovely thought, dear,” my mother says. “I’ll text Jules the funeral home details.”

“Thank you.”

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