The man holds a piece of paper up. “Judge Delacorte.”
As Callum snatches the paper out of his hand, the man charges up the stairs followed by two police officers I hadn’t noticed before. One of them grabs a silent Reed and turns him around, pushing him up against the banister.
“There’s no need for that.” Callum sprints back up the stairs. “He’ll go with you willingly.”
“Sorry, Mr. Royal. Standard procedure,” the man explains, but he looks awfully smug about this.
“Do not say one word,” Callum instructs his son. “Not one.”
Reed’s eyes burn as he stares at me.
I love you.
I love you, too.
I’ll do anything.
We need to find a way to get rid of her.
I want to erase Brooke from our lives.
I love you.
“I love you,” I whisper as the officer drags him away.
A fierce look passes over his face, but he doesn’t say a word—and I don’t know if that’s because he’s afraid to say anything or because he’s following his dad’s orders.
My entire body starts shaking. Callum slides an arm around me. “Go upstairs, get some shoes on and I’ll take you to the police station.”
“The boys,” I say weakly. “We should get the rest of them.” I can see he’s on the verge of saying no, but it’s the wrong call. “We need to show Reed we support him as a family. They’d want to come.”
Callum finally nods. “Get them.”
I turn and run down the hall, knocking on Easton’s door and then the twins’. “Wake up, you guys!” I yell. “Wake up.”
The doorbell rings again. I race back, thinking for some reason that it’s Reed and he’s going to tell me this is all a tasteless joke. A stupid surprise. An early April Fool’s Day gag.
Callum reaches the door first, flinging it open in a fast blur. He marches forward, only to freeze a second later. He stops so abruptly that I slam into his suddenly stiff back.
“Oh sweet Jesus,” he breathes.
I have no idea why he stopped. I can’t see past his broad shoulders.
While Callum stands there like statue, I peer around his large frame and blink in alarm.
There’s a man standing at the bottom of the limestone steps. Oily blond hair hangs down to his shoulders. A full beard devours almost his entire face. His khakis and polo shirt seem to hang off his lean body, as if they’re two sizes too big.
He looks oddly familiar, but I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen him before in my life.
I meet his eyes. They’re light blue, framed by dark blond eyelashes.
My heart speeds up, because now I’m second-guessing myself. I think I do know him. I think he’s—
“Steve?” Callum exclaims.