Deanna steps up next to him. “Let us help you, Bruce,” she purrs.
His attention swings to her and his eyes glaze over, “Maggie?”
“My name is Deanna,” she says, looping her arm around his waist. “We’re going to get you home, okay?”
He doesn’t resist as she starts moving him toward the door.
Vicky slaps his keys on the counter. “Green Ford. Out front.”
“You got an address?” I ask, scooping them up.
“It’s the brown house with the long front porch on the corner of Hinckley and Main.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“Thank you, honey. This is becoming a routine. Bran’s had to call that girl of his four or five times over the last few weeks.” Her eyes go soft. “Feel bad for her.”
My heart kicks in my chest. “She’s been here?”
She gives a slow, sad nod. “I paid for a taxi the first few times, but my charity only extends so far.”
I turn to catch up to Deanna and Bruce, the knot in my gut tightening. I push the door open and Deanna ushers him across the sidewalk to the passenger door of her BMW.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” I ask, opening it for her.
She nods. “He’s calm at the moment. Don’t want to shake his tree too much.”
I help her lower him in then walk to the driver’s side with her. I click the key fob in my hand and the lights flash on a Crown Victoria across the street. “That’s his. Follow me.”
It’s a short ride across town to Hinckley and Main, and there’s only one brown house on the corner. It’s in the old section of town and these homes are all modest. I grew up only a few blocks from here.
When I open Deanna’s passenger door, Bruce is out cold. It takes both of us to haul his dead weight up and drag him to the door. I hold him while Deanna rings the bell, and when I hear feet pad up to the door inside, I feel my ribcage contract.
At the same time as the porch light illuminates, the door swings open, and there she is.
Addie.
Her corkscrew curls are smashed on the side of her head that’s not shaved, and her face on that side is pillow creased. She’s in a long, loose white T-shirt and ankle socks, and it’s clear she’s not wearing a bra when her nipples pebble against the chill in the night air. And I can see the outline of blue panties through the thin cotton of her shirt.
I look away because I definitely shouldn’t be noticing these things.
“Oh, God,” she says when she sees us.
She takes Deanna’s place under her father’s right arm and links her arm with mine behind his back. We maneuver through the door into a small family room and settle him onto a recliner. Then Addie’s eyes lock on mine. They’re black in the dim lighting. There’s a second I can’t breathe.
Because shiner and all, those eyes manage to cut through all my bullshit to the truth of me. I feel like she’s seeing things I don’t even know are inside of me.
“Where did you find him?” she asks, trepidation thick in her words.
“Sam Hill,” I say. “Vicky cut him off. He wasn’t happy.”
Her gaze shifts to Deanna and I’m surprised by the sharp pang in my gut when I see it register on her face that we were at the bar together.
Deanna extends a hand to Addie. “I’ve seen you at school,” she says. “I’m Deanna Robinson.”
Addie shakes her hand. “Thanks for bringing him home. Sorry if he ruined your date.”
Deanna smiles and shoots a glance at me. “It’s fine. There’s plenty of evening left.”
Addie turns away and moves toward the door just as I’m trying to read her expression. “Well…thanks again,” she says, pulling it open. A clear invitation for us to leave.
“I don’t mean to pry,” Deanna says, following her, “but…how did you hurt your head?”
Addie looks at me and a chagrinned grimace passes over her face. “I’m sure Marcus will be happy to fill you in.”
Deanna’s gaze shifts to me and her eyebrows go up in surprise.
“It was just an accident at the pool.” I turn to Addie. “You’re going to be okay?” I ask with a crook of my thumb at her father.
She blows out a sad laugh. “It’s not the first time. I’ve got the drill down.”
I follow Deanna out the door, but something in my gut is screaming at me to stay. My eyes sweep over the bandages on her partially shaved head, the black eye. All the destruction on a face that I’m just now realizing is uniquely beautiful.
Deanna is already down the porch stairs, but I hesitate as I pass Addie. “You’re sure?” I ask softly.
Her lips part as if she’s preparing to say something, but then they just stay that way as her eyes search mine. Her breath feathers over my face and causes a rush to ripple under my skin.
I step back as if stung, trying to decipher what that was. “Okay…so…if you need anything…”