Page 123 of What's Left of Us

“You don’t owe him anything, Georgia.” Does she hear herself?

“He’s my dad.”

“He’s not a very good one,” I counter coolly, her foot tensing in my hold. Easing my tone, I go back to working out the tension just above her heel. “He hasn’t done anything to prove he’s worth your effort or energy. I’m sorry if that’s true about Leani, but she needs to file a police report, not ask you to come handle it.”

“Leani would never go to the police.”

“Why not?”

Georgia is quiet for a minute. “Because he’s all she has. I think if she wanted to go to the police, she would have. But something is holding her back.”

I’ve dealt with plenty of people in situations like hers who were afraid of losing everything they had by leaving their abusers. “I understand that. What I don’t get is how you’re supposed to change what’s happening behind closed doors.”

“He used to be a different person,” she tells me, her frown curling her lips. “I know you don’t understand, but I can’t help but wonder if I can get the old version of him back. Luca said—”

“Luca.” I cut her off, my hand pausing on her foot. “Since when do you care about what Luca Carbone says anyway? If you only spoke to him that once at the store, I don’t see why his input matters over mine.”

“I never said it did.”

“Well, it sure feels like it. All Luca Carbone cares about is what benefitshim,” I argue firmly. “If he said anything different, I wouldn’t be so quick to believe him.”

All she does is stare down at her closed book.

“You’ve offered to help your father before, and all he’s done is make you pay for it. He’s the reason there’s a wedge between us, and listening to Luca is only going to drive it deeper.”

She peeks up at me through her lashes. “Is it the only reason, though?”

“What does that mean?”

Shaking her head, she fidgets with the bookmark tucked in between the pages. “Neither one of us knows how far gone my father is.Dowe?”

She spares me with a look, those amber eyes waiting for me to say something. But I don’t want to get into what her father may or may not be into. It’s better if she doesn’t know the incriminating evidence that could lead to her father’s ruin. The less she knows, the less guilt she’ll feel for not trying to stop me. But if he’s this unpredictable, then clearly, something needs to be done about it.

“I’m not trying to be a dick,” I tell her, letting her take back her foot. She bends her legs up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “But I want you to realize that this is another part of the game he’s playing to get what he wants. Where is the line?”

“It’s just dinner.”

It’s just paint,I’d told my mother.

But it wasn’t.

“It’s never just dinner, Georgia. This dinner is going to turn into another one. And that will turn into a third. Eventually, you’ll be going every week. And for what?”

It doesn’t matter to her. She’s already made up her mind, and it doesn’t matter what my opinion on the matter seems to be.Whatever Luca told her got to her head exactly how he wanted it to.

The only reason she’s telling me is because she already agreed to go.

“When are we going to dinner?”

Surprise coats her face, her lips parting. “You want to come?”

Want is a strong word. “I don’t trust them.”

Her frown reappears.

“But I don’t want you to face them alone. And maybe your stepmother won’t go to the police, but maybe she wants you to bring the police to her in any form you can.”

She’s contemplative. “And you would help her?”

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