Page 26 of Reclaiming Kendall

Simple As That

Dinner with Selena went off without a hitch. The guys loved her and vice versa. She even crowed over them as they did the dishes and cleaned up after dinner. We invited her to stay for a little while longer, but she refused, saying she would but has the bedtime of a grandma.

When I walked her out with Grant on my heels, she reassured us not to give up out of doubt. In one visit, she’d been able to see how much love we have in our house, repeating what she’d said earlier about there always being special circumstances. That wasn’t my intention when I extended the invite to her, but I’ll admit it does make me feel tons better and not as helpless as before.

I’ve already changed into my pajamas and am about to brush my teeth as I’m telling the guys about our conversation at her house.

Mid-sentence, I’m cut off by the sound of a phone ringing. Mav steps to where it rests on one of the shelves, so I’m guessing it’s his. Taking the interruption as a sign to finish brushing my teeth, I slip back through the bathroom doorway where Grant is stepping out of the shower.

I run a hand down the chiseled muscles on his chest, and he drops a kiss to the top of my head. Turning towards the mirror, I never take my eyes from his sexy body as he towel-dries himself. Just as his mouth turns up, Mav lets out a roar that yanks a yelp from my chest and leaves my toothbrush clanging around in the sink when I drop it.

Crossing the threshold back into the room, I take note of Lucas propped against the headboard with a book in his hands. Teagan has stripped down to nothing but his jeans and leans against the wall leading into the closet. Both of them are focused on Mav pacing a hole in the carpet. After his initial outburst, his voice has quietened down to a low angry murmur, making it hard to understand him. We’re all eavesdropping and don’t give a shit. Whatever has got him so worked up can’t be good, but he won’t have to deal with it alone.

Dropping the phone away from his ear, there’s a split moment when I think he’s going to smash it against the wall.

“What’s going on, dude?” Grant asks at my back.

Almost as if his voice breaks Mav out of the bubble he’s put himself in, Mav takes long angry strides over to the closet. When he speaks, his voice is muffled from within the closet, “Mom’s gone off the deep end again. Frank is leaving her and taking the kids with him.”

We get a full view of his expression as he comes back into the room and snarls, “She tried to fucking kill herself.”

My hand lifts to my mouth in surprise as Grant speaks up again, “Is she on drugs again?”

Mav nods, and my heart breaks for him. I go to where he’s sitting at the foot of the bed and squeeze my body between his thighs. He presses his face into my stomach as I run my fingers through the dark locks on the top of his head. I want to assure him that everything will be fine and that we’ll deal with it together. However, I know Maverick. Words aren’t what he needs. It won’t soothe him.

We give him the silence to process. After a few minutes, his eyes lift to mine, “I’m going to go over there. If Frank is pissed, then he won’t take care of everything like he should. I’ve got to make sure.”

I feel like he’s omitting something of the truth from us, but it’ll be for a reason. I trust him with everything I am. Trapping his cheeks between my palms, I command a kiss from him before saying, “We’re coming with you.”

Lucas is already hopping out of bed to redress. Mav doesn’t argue, which I didn’t think he would. The rest of us scramble to throw our clothes back on.

Grant and I are the last ones in the room. Everyone else is finished and making their way downstairs.

I turn to my gentle giant, “She’s done this before?”

His face is grim when he nods, “She went on a bender for months after the last one left her. Though, attempted suicide is a new low. Even for her.”

With Mav already being pissed the way that he is, Lucas throws out the idea of taking his truck so that he doesn't have to drive. Not that he'd let his anger endanger us in any way, but this will give him time to think and not have to be focused on the road. Though, it may have been better to just let him have the distraction. He probably would've welcomed it.

The drive is quiet. We let the music turned down to a low volume be the only sound in the truck. As we finally pull on to the street leading to his mom's house, another sharp reminder hits me. Grant's family home used to be directly across the street from Maverick's. That is until we went off to college. When Grant got hurt, his dad, the piece of shit that he is, realized that Grant wouldn't be taking his football career anywhere, sold the house without even telling him beforehand. Even went as far as to move all of Grant's stuff into storage.

Coming back here every time must be a goddamn slap in the face for him. Subtly, I shift towards him while sneaking an arm underneath his to clasp our fingers together. He gives me a reassuring squeeze and presses a kiss against the side of my head. I'd reach for Mav in the front passenger seat, too, if I thought it'd help him. He's more closed off than my other three men, so I know once everything is said and done here tonight, that's when he'll be seeking comfort. Not now while it's all so fresh.

Red and blue lights cast shadows on the houses around us, so I know before we're even pulling into the driveway what's waiting on us. What I'm not expecting is for an officer to have a handcuffed teenager propped against the front porch rail.

"Shit," Teagan grinds out from beside me, no sign of his ‘happy go lucky’ attitude present.

Lucas throws the truck in park as he warns Mav, "Don't jump to conclusions. Let's get the story first."

As we pile out of the truck, Teagan strides around to take point with Mav as Lucas and Grant hang back with me.

An officer steps in front of them just as they make it to the steps, "Woah, I can't let you any further."

For as long as I could remember, I'd been brought up to fear the cops. Until Gramps and Nana took me in, that is. I guess there's some kind of psychological damage there that ingrained that distrust inside my head, or maybe my asshole radar has kicked into overdrive with my nerves. Were we to cross paths in public with him not in uniform, I'd never guess his profession. He's a little on the taller side, about Mav's height, with broad shoulders, but he's lanky as fuck. There doesn't seem to be a hair out of place from the top of his bald shiny head and clean-shaved baby face, down to his ‘straight from the academy’ pressed uniform.

"That's my mother's house, sir," Mav replies with barely-contained rage. I'm not sure if it's towards the officer and his tone, or his mother for putting him here in the first place. If I had to bet, it would be the latter.

The officer nods, "Go on up. You need to talk to Detective Gillium inside." Then he turns to us with snottiness in his voice, "But I can't let the rest of you folks in there."

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