Page 89 of Call It Love

I swallowed and nodded. “Yes. He didn’t hit me, but he made me feel small. Like I was a burden and not worth listening to. He made me feel unworthy of him. And even though I knew something was wrong, I didn’t know how to leave. I was scared of making it worse.”

I glanced at the cookie in my hand, feeling Chase’s anger grow. I knew my words were probably killing him a little. But it was worth it if it helped Jordan. “Eventually, I thought maybe I deserved to be there.”

I could feel Reid’s eyes on me as well. It was uncomfortable, but I kept my focus on Jordan.

“But I was wrong. Not saying anything didn’t protect me. It just kept me stuck and alone.”

Jordan’s fingers tightened on Jack’s fur.

“I know how hard it is to speak up,” I continued. “But you’re not alone now. You’ve got me.” I nodded toward Chase and Reid. “And you’ve got them, too. But we can’t help unless you let us in.”

A long pause stretched between us.

“We want to help,” I whispered. “But you have to let us.”

His shoulders trembled. Then his voice cracked. “It was my uncle.”

The room went still. No one said a word.

“He always tells me I make life harder for them. That I take up too much room. Eat too much. Cost too much.”

I saw a quiet, almost dangerous tension coil inside Chase. His jaw clenched, and I knew he was thinking what I was—that they didn’t spare enough food for him to be worried about expense. Reid stood motionless in the doorway, his expression grave. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying.

“The other night, they all laughed at me. Told me I was stupid for wanting to help clean out the barn for the dance. They said it was stupid and only for losers. They started to push me around. I told them to knock it off, but that just made it worse.”

Reid finally moved to sit next to Chase. “I’m so sorry, son. Has this been going on since you moved in?”

Jordan gave a defeated nod.

Reid’s brow pulled together, and his voice wasfilled with regret. “Why didn’t you tell me or the woman from CPS when we were there?”

“I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why not?” I asked, stunned. We could have helped him so much sooner.

His eyes grew red as he sniffled. “I don’t want someone—” he looked pointedly at Reid—“to take me away fromhere. I didn’t want to lose this. You guys. Jack. The farm. All of it,” he blurted. “I was afraid they’d make me live somewhere far away. With strangers.”

My breath caught. He wasn’t just scared of his family. He was scared of losing what he had found here. Tears formed in my eyes. I couldn’t hold back. I opened my arms to him.

He hesitated, then leaned in, and my arms immediately went around him. I felt him sink into the hug as a shudder passed through his slender body.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I said fiercely. “I’ll fight anyone who tries to take you. Or hurt you. I promise.”

Reid insisted we take Jordan to the clinic in town, not just to have him checked out, but also as further documentation of what happened to him. Doc Moser had been quiet as he checked out Jordan’s injuries, including an X-ray of his bruised ribs. Fortunately, nothing was broken, but it would take some time to heal.

It felt like hours later before we finally got back to the farm. Jordan walked between Chase and me. Reid trailed just behind, never more than a step away. Jordan stared at the path, saying nothing. Jack greeted us with tail wags andgentle licks, getting the first reaction out of Jordan we’d seen in a while.

Inside, I went straight to the kitchen. I needed movement. Purpose. Something to keep my hands busy before my thoughts caught fire.

I pulled together a simple breakfast—scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. It wasn’t just about hunger. It was about offering comfort in the only way I knew how in that moment. And selfishly, I needed the distraction. I was too angry to sit still.

Angry that anyone, especially family, could treat a child that way. Angry that he’d had to endure it in silence, terrified that asking for help might mean losing the one place where he finally felt safe.

I plated the food, setting it on the table in front of Jordan without a word. He offered a small, polite nod, but his eyes stayed fixed on the napkin he was shredding between his fingers. He didn’t know what was going to happen to him next. Neither did I, which was why I leaned against the door frame and tilted my head slightly, doing my best to catch every word coming from the living room.

“Obviously,” Reid was saying, “I have to involve CPS. I already called Rhonda, the caseworker who coordinated placing him with his extended family when his mom died. She’s aware of the concerns we flagged previously and was the one who made the house visit.”

“But she couldn’t see what was going on?” Chase growled.

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