Page 48

Lucas sighed, reading Jacob's tension. "Time for us to jet, Bella. We'll be back tomorrow, if you want us."

"I'll text in the morning. Let you know." Jacob clenched his hands, trying to release the tension building inside him.

"Remember," Lucas said, "don't get so caught up in how you feel about Phoebe and forget that there's a real threat to their safety." He paused. "And to yours, too. Dylan told us that your dad's out of prison."

"I know." His dad. Jacob shook out his hands. "You guys need to go. I need space."

His siblings exchanged glances, but they both grabbed their phones off the counter. "How about if we watch from outside?" Lucas suggested. "We won't be in your way."

"No. I have my cameras. They'll alert me. You guys gotta go." He could feel sweat on his forehead, and he saw Bella's gaze go to it.

"How about we stay here to watch the house, and you go for a ride?" she offered.

"No. I want to stay here." He didn't bother to walk them to the door. He just stayed where he was.

"All right. Call if you need us." Lucas put his hand on Bella's back and began urging her toward the door. "Come on, Bella. He's fine."

Bella shot a worried look back at him. "Text later and let us know you're okay."

"I'm fine. Just need you to go."

They didn't argue. They'd been through this so many times with him before, they never took it personally, and he appreciated that. He never had to explain, never had to feel guilty. They accepted him in the way he needed to be accepted.

He closed his eyes as he heard the front door shut and lock.

For a long moment, he didn't move. He just breathed in the space. The quiet of the house. The freedom to simply be, where he didn't have to talk or listen or explain.

It took several minutes for him to recalibrate sufficiently to pull out his phone and arm his system. He checked all the video feeds, which showed his siblings leaving, but no other activity. All was secure.

He tossed the phone on the counter, then walked across the room and sank down on his couch, his original couch, not the soft one they'd brought in for his guests.

He rested his forearms on his knees and bowed his head, resting it on his fingertips. He was still sweating, and tension felt like it was choking him. He could hear sounds and voices from his childhood, ones he hadn't heard in years. They were suddenly back, loud and acrid, eating away at him just as they had so long ago. Sounds brought back by his father's reappearance.

He won't come.

He won't come.

He won't come.

Jacob wasn't scared of his father anymore. He knew the man had no power over him. But the memories were brutal, and he didn't want to have to drag his mind into the places that seeing his father would take him.

His mind shifted to Annie, to Phoebe, to Cupcake. What kind of man was after them? A man like his father? A man without a soul?

Tension wrapped tighter around Jacob, squeezing his lungs so tightly that it was difficult to breathe. This was the moment when he always ran for the barn, grabbed a horse, and bolted out into the night.

But he didn't want to go.

He didn't want to leave his house.

No…it wasn't his house that was calling to him. It was the trio in his bedroom. He needed to stay near them. To keep them safe.

To keep himself safe.

Behind that closed door, they weren't in his space. They weren't talking to him, asking him for what he couldn’t give. But they were a presence. He wasn't alone, and he felt it.

He needed them. He didn't need much from them. Their presence was enough.

As soon as he thought it, real fear shot through him.