Page 13 of Dare To Take

“Time?” My voice is a rough croak, but thankfully my phone app recognizes it.

“One am,” the robotic voice tells me.

There are three missed calls and numerous text notifications, so I drop back against the mattress and tap through to see what’s going on. My heart is hammering when I see two of the calls are from the hospital, and relief sweeps through me when the voicemail tells me they’re just calling to give me a positive update on my dad’s health. The third call is from Kellan, as are the messages.

Kellan: Call me.

Kellan: Is everything okay? Is your dad okay? Call me when you get this.

Kellan: Fine, I’ll tell you this way. Miles hasn’t fucked Arabella.

I snort quietly. No shit, Sherlock.

Kellan: Okay, you’re scaring me now. You’re never silent for this long. Fucking call me.

The rest of the texts are pretty much the same thing, with more swearing. I hit dial on his number. Unsurprisingly, he answers on the second ring.

“What the fuck? Where have you been?”

“Sorry, I crashed. Just woke up.” I rub my temple, trying to ease the ache. “Dad’s okay. The hospital called to say he can come home in a couple of days.”

“That’s good news.”

“Yeah.” I close my eyes.

“Has the school made a decision on whether you can come back?”

“Not that I’ve heard.” I yawn, scratching my jaw. “Elena brought Arabella back earlier today … yesterday, I mean.” I haven’t told him what happened between us, only that she ran away after the video was leaked.

“So, you get to play happy families for Christmas.”

After what happened earlier, somehow, I doubt that.

“I’m going to do my best. My dad will be home. The last thing I want is to put him back in the hospital. Next time he might not survive.” And I don’t think I’d survive the guilt of that.

There’s a noise outside my door, footsteps followed by a low voice that I can’t quite hear clearly. I frown. It’s late. None of the house staff live here and will have left hours ago. That leaves two people.

“I’m gonna go. I’ll call you later if there’s any news.” I end the call and drop my cell onto the bed, then roll to my feet.

Grabbing a t-shirt off the back of a chair, I pull it over my head as I cross the carpet and open the door. Elena is standing in the doorway to Arabella’s room, and they’re talking quietly. Elena’s head turns toward me when I step into the hallway.

“Eli! Did I wake you? I’m sorry. I’ve just got back from the hospital.”

I drag a hand through my hair, shoving it off my face. “How’s Dad?”

She smiles, and it actually looks like genuine relief in her eyes. “Much better. I had the hospital leave you a message. Did you get it? It was only after you left that I realized I didn’t have your number, so I couldn’t call you myself.”

“I did. Thank you.”

Movement beside her draws my eye and I find Arabella leaning against the doorframe, her gaze trained on me. She looks away when she sees me looking.

“I’m going back to bed,” she tells her mother. “I’ll see you in the morning, Elena.” She closes the door on the pair of us.

Silence thickens the air between us, awkward and heavy. “I was just going to sneak downstairs for a hot chocolate. It’s far too late for coffee, although I could definitely kill for one. Do you want to join me?” The olive branch is offered in a hesitant voice, but I recognize it for what it is. And, for my father’s health, I accept it.

“Sure. I was thinking about making a sandwich anyway.”

We walk through the hallway and down the stairs to the kitchen. I’m sure the cook will have words to say when she arrives in the morning to find we’ve raided her supplies, but I’ll deal with that later. The woman practically raised me. As I pull open the refrigerator to see what I can eat, my gaze lands on a plate of sandwiches covered in Saran wrap and a little label. The message makes me smile.

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