didn’t stay to argue. “Be right back,” she told Dalton as she hurried past him.
When she was safely ensconced behind the bathroom door, Dalton turned to his younger brother. “Everything go okay?”
Jonah made a face as he paused the movie. “Well, he called. But she didn’t pick up the phone.”
Dalton’s jaw tightened. “I suppose I’m not allowed to just break her damn phone.”
Jonah wrinkled his nose. “Probably not.”
“Did he leave a message?”
Jonah shrugged. “If he did, she didn’t listen to it.”
With that thought, Zoey’s phone rang. Dalton eyed it sitting on the kitchen counter. “Asshole,” he muttered. The urge to smash it was strong, but it wasn’t his phone or his place.
Jonah shook his head. “That’s not him. Or at least, it’s not the same ring tone.”
Dalton took a step forward, but Zoey burst out of the bathroom. “That’s my mom,” she declared, frantically wiping her wet hands on her jeans. She snatched her cell phone off the counter and answered it. “Mom. Mom! Calm down. I’m alright. Everything’s fine.”
Dalton glowered. Obviously Zoey had a different definition of ‘alright.’
“I’m not missing,” Zoey sighed. “Clearly. I’m staying… with a friend.”
Dalton suppressed a grunt. Obviously they had a different definition of ‘friend,’ as well.
“Well…” Zoey drawled as her eyes darted from Dalton to Jonah. “He shouldn’t have called you. I’m sorry. It’s— I mean, it wasn’t just an argument, Mom. I know couples argue. This wasn’t that.” She turned and ducked out of the kitchen.
Dalton watched her walk down the hall to the second bedroom.
“Yes, I’m coming home,” was the last thing he heard her say before she quietly shut the door.
Jonah stood up and tossed the remote on the couch. “That’s it for me,” he declared. “I’m going to grab a burger before I start my shift.”
Dalton straightened his shoulders and looked at him. “Thanks. Thanks for coming over.”
Jonah grabbed his leather jacket off the chair and shrugged. “Eh. He didn’t show. Probably too scared. Probably a good thing.”
Dalton let his brother out and locked the door behind him. He frowned down the empty hallway. For lack of anything better to do, he wandered into the living room, picked up Zoey’s empty teacup and rinsed it out in the sink. Without really deciding to, he refilled the saucepan and set it on the stove.
It wasn’t always smooth sailing between Zoey and her mom. A fresh hot cup of tea might be in order after this. He carried the cup, bag and all, to the kitchen table intending to let it cool. Zoey’s voice, though, wafted down the hall. Dalton turned toward it.
“Well, why did you call?” Her voice was shrill, angry.
Dalton frowned. As long as he’d known her, things had never been this bad.
“You had no right… Concerned?… Well, you weren’t all that concerned when you hit me.”
Dalton’s hand flexed on the fragile cup and he quickly set it down before he broke the damn thing. He took off down the hall, in toward the guest room.
“I don’t want to hear you’re sorry! You’re always sorry… It’s always the last time.”
Dalton’s hand reflexively reached for the knob.
“No, Patrick. Just no. Don’t call my parents anymore. They have nothing to do with this. And don’t act surprised. I told you. I said if it happened again that was it.” Her voice lowered, cracked. Dalton had to strain to hear it. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it. Too much of this was his fault, too much of the blame was on his shoulders. “I won’t bring a baby into that,” Zoey hissed fiercely.
He heard a thump, like she threw the phone. For Dalton, it was the last straw. He twisted the knob and pushed open the door.
Zoey was on the bed, face in her hands.
His own hands tightened into fists and he forgot the precise mechanics of breathing. “Again? He’s hit you before?”
Chapter
When she was safely ensconced behind the bathroom door, Dalton turned to his younger brother. “Everything go okay?”
Jonah made a face as he paused the movie. “Well, he called. But she didn’t pick up the phone.”
Dalton’s jaw tightened. “I suppose I’m not allowed to just break her damn phone.”
Jonah wrinkled his nose. “Probably not.”
“Did he leave a message?”
Jonah shrugged. “If he did, she didn’t listen to it.”
With that thought, Zoey’s phone rang. Dalton eyed it sitting on the kitchen counter. “Asshole,” he muttered. The urge to smash it was strong, but it wasn’t his phone or his place.
Jonah shook his head. “That’s not him. Or at least, it’s not the same ring tone.”
Dalton took a step forward, but Zoey burst out of the bathroom. “That’s my mom,” she declared, frantically wiping her wet hands on her jeans. She snatched her cell phone off the counter and answered it. “Mom. Mom! Calm down. I’m alright. Everything’s fine.”
Dalton glowered. Obviously Zoey had a different definition of ‘alright.’
“I’m not missing,” Zoey sighed. “Clearly. I’m staying… with a friend.”
Dalton suppressed a grunt. Obviously they had a different definition of ‘friend,’ as well.
“Well…” Zoey drawled as her eyes darted from Dalton to Jonah. “He shouldn’t have called you. I’m sorry. It’s— I mean, it wasn’t just an argument, Mom. I know couples argue. This wasn’t that.” She turned and ducked out of the kitchen.
Dalton watched her walk down the hall to the second bedroom.
“Yes, I’m coming home,” was the last thing he heard her say before she quietly shut the door.
Jonah stood up and tossed the remote on the couch. “That’s it for me,” he declared. “I’m going to grab a burger before I start my shift.”
Dalton straightened his shoulders and looked at him. “Thanks. Thanks for coming over.”
Jonah grabbed his leather jacket off the chair and shrugged. “Eh. He didn’t show. Probably too scared. Probably a good thing.”
Dalton let his brother out and locked the door behind him. He frowned down the empty hallway. For lack of anything better to do, he wandered into the living room, picked up Zoey’s empty teacup and rinsed it out in the sink. Without really deciding to, he refilled the saucepan and set it on the stove.
It wasn’t always smooth sailing between Zoey and her mom. A fresh hot cup of tea might be in order after this. He carried the cup, bag and all, to the kitchen table intending to let it cool. Zoey’s voice, though, wafted down the hall. Dalton turned toward it.
“Well, why did you call?” Her voice was shrill, angry.
Dalton frowned. As long as he’d known her, things had never been this bad.
“You had no right… Concerned?… Well, you weren’t all that concerned when you hit me.”
Dalton’s hand flexed on the fragile cup and he quickly set it down before he broke the damn thing. He took off down the hall, in toward the guest room.
“I don’t want to hear you’re sorry! You’re always sorry… It’s always the last time.”
Dalton’s hand reflexively reached for the knob.
“No, Patrick. Just no. Don’t call my parents anymore. They have nothing to do with this. And don’t act surprised. I told you. I said if it happened again that was it.” Her voice lowered, cracked. Dalton had to strain to hear it. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it. Too much of this was his fault, too much of the blame was on his shoulders. “I won’t bring a baby into that,” Zoey hissed fiercely.
He heard a thump, like she threw the phone. For Dalton, it was the last straw. He twisted the knob and pushed open the door.
Zoey was on the bed, face in her hands.
His own hands tightened into fists and he forgot the precise mechanics of breathing. “Again? He’s hit you before?”
Chapter
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