Page 40 of Reclaiming Kendall

Trouble

The rest of the weekend goes off without a hitch, and we leave wishing that we could spend a few more days. Alas, adulting is a real fucking thing. When the guys got back to the site the other day, they found us still asleep in the hammock. Lucas traced the pink skin on my face, and I knew we weren't fooling anyone; except maybe Will, and that's a good thing.

The only hiccup between packing up camp and getting home was a moment when the guys were taking the tent down. Will reached for one of the poles to help Grant and Teagan disassemble it, without realizing it would've collapsed the entire thing and likely bent the frame in the middle. From where I was standing at the picnic table, packing up all our food, I got a front-row seat to the scene. At that point, Grant yelled out a loud ‘No’ and reached across the space to stop Will from rendering the tent useless. Will lurched away from him, tripping over one of the stumps as he went before crashing to the ground with a groan.

There's no telling the horror Will has seen in his life, but one thing that was made certain in that one move. Somewhere along the line, he has been hit and more than once. You just don't develop a reflex of fear like that out of nowhere. It made me terribly sad for him, and had my heart breaking for Grant, too.

In all the shit we've been through, I never thought I'd live to see the look that passed over his face; the mortification and shame of a man facing his worst nightmare. It was obvious he could tell what caused Will's reaction. Even if we all know he would never hurt a hair on Will’s head, it still had to bring back those old feelings from when he was growing up. From the outside, no one would ever be able to tell that his dad was a piece of shit; going as far as to blame Grant for his mom ditching them. Mental and physical abuse took off from there and went on for years, until Grant grew old enough to not take his shit anymore. Then his dad took off and just left him so that he could start another family. It's enough to make anyone sick to their stomach. If Grant hadn't had my other guys, the whole situation could've ended up a whole lot worse.

As he stood there with his hand still outstretched, frozen in shock, I watched those emotions flit across his face. Lucas, having saw the whole thing same as me, made his way over and helped Will up. I went to Grant and hugged him tight around the waist.

His arms had gone around me and squeezed hard as his voice came out dry, "I wasn't going to hit him."

"No, you weren't. We saw what happened," I told him, rubbing circles around his back. There was a hitch in his breath, and I looked up to see unshed tears in his eyes.

"Look at me," I told him softly. When he refused, my voice went hard, "Look at me, Grant Michaels." His eyes finally tipped down to find mine before I said, "There are issues there, and it has nothing to do with you. So, wherever you are in your head right now, come back. You aren't your father, babe, and you never will be."

A deep sigh left his throat as his shoulders slumped, as if those were the words that he needed to hear. It did nothing to alleviate the emotion that was still simmering beneath the surface, but at least he didn't feel completely responsible about what had happened. Leaning down, he'd taken advantage of my still tight hold on him and claimed my lips for a minute or two.

Before we all hopped in the truck, Grant taking the front seat with me and Lucas this time, he’d apologized to Will as he explained the tent mechanism to him and why he'd yelled. Will had accepted the apology, and all seemed well, but I had a feeling this wound was going to need more of a cast than a Band-Aid. Especially if the emotions he and Grant both wore on their sleeves until we got home that night were any indication.

It's been a few days since we got back, and it seems as though all has been forgiven and forgotten. I'm going to get around to chatting with Will about maybe going to talk to someone. There just hasn't been a good time to bring it up while we're alone. Maybe today is the day we'll finally get that chance.

Teagan is staying after school for practice, and Lucas doesn't get off work for another couple of hours. Mav and Grant met with some of the contractors for the theater and won't be home until later, which leaves me to go pick up Will from school. Considering work has been semi slow lately, it's not too big of a deal.

A few minutes early to our set up rendezvous spot, I sit back, and people watch as I reminisce about my high school days. I'll never miss that shit. Sure, life is easier for most kids still in school, but growing up the way I did, adulting came fast and hard for me. Though, the first day Lucas ever showed up without any kind of warning will always be one that I hold close to my heart. As if I really needed one more reason to be reminded of just how lucky I truly am.

Getting lost in that trip down memory lane, it takes me a few minutes to realize that I've been sitting here well past time for Will to be here. The parking lot is getting emptier by the second. Taking a quick look at my phone, proves that I don't have any missed calls or texts from him. I don't want to be a helicopter parent, but if he's going to be more than a few minutes late, then it's nothing but common courtesy to at least let us know. Especially if he's doing something for grades, but even worse if he's just fucking off with some friends of his. What Ms. Parks said about the kid he's been getting in trouble with lately flashes through my mind. I send out a quick text to him to check in. There's a ten-minute window where I don't get a response before I call him. It rings several times before it goes to voicemail.

"Shit," I voice to my empty car. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

If I call one of the guys and get them involved, this will have disaster and a half written all over it. My best course of action will be to give Will a little while longer just in case he did really have to stay after school and lost track of time.

After twenty minutes and two more unanswered calls that go directly to voicemail, I curse as I pull out of the lot. Mav needs to know, but he's in a meeting with Grant. Plus, it's not that long before he gets home. Two different options war with each other as I make my way home. They don't stop until I'm pulling into the driveway and spot a random vehicle parked at the front of the steps.

I don't even bother to pop the door open on the garage and pull inside. My gut is churning, making me feel like I'm going to puke. Leaving the 4Runner running in front of my spot, I hop out into the humid afternoon sun. It beats down hard on the top of my head as I come flush with the car and make a quick observation that no one is inside.

Anxiety spikes in my chest, and I clutch my phone tighter in my hand. After the bullshit my not-real dad pulled a couple years ago when he kidnapped and almost killed me, I've struggled quite a bit. I'm fine until there's a situation like this that gets my heart pumping with nerves.

Automatically, I want to press one of the guys' numbers that I have on speed dial, but it took me a long time to quell that reaction. I'm not going to fall back into old habits when I'm probably just being ridiculous as it is.

Taking a deep breath, I walk up the stairs and reach out to the front door. It's unlocked but considering someone took care enough to shut the door behind them, I want to think I am just overreacting.

"Will?" I call out, leaving the door standing open.

There are some noises coming from the kitchen, and it sounds like Will swearing. Dropping my defensive stance, I take the long way using the dining room.

Sure enough, I find Will pacing the floor between the backdoor and stove muttering to himself. When his turn brings him to face me, our eyes lock, and the flicker of shame and fear there is all I need to see.

Just as I hold the button that'll dial Maverick, a deeper voice echoes down the stairs, "Where'd you go, Will? You just left me hanging up there."

We both freeze because with the openness of this floor, there's going to be no hiding. I remember at the last second that I never let go of the button, so Mav should already be waiting for me.

The stranger rounds the staircase as I put the phone to my ear. And of course, it's still ringing. One more, though, and Mav's smooth voice flows from the speaker, "You've reached Maverick. Leave a message, and I'll get back with you as soon as possible."

Fuck.

"Hey, it's me. I need you to come home now," I manage to squeeze in before the stranger charges into the room and yanks the phone from my hand.

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