Page 26 of Salvation (Rising From the Ashes #3)

Ivy

T he drive to the Bryants’ home is long and awkward. Willow was angry when we told her we were taking her back, but with her boyfriend gone, she didn’t have many options.

Now we are piled into Campbell’s truck, with Campbell in the driver’s seat, white knuckling the steering wheel, Willow in the back, refusing to look away from the window, and me watching them both, afraid that if I blink, it will all go away.

No one says a word until we pull onto the road that leads to the Bryants’ home. Then, Willow finally looks away from the window and sits forward, poking her head in between Campbell and me.

“You can just drop me off at the corner. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

Campbell turns his head toward her and gives her a look that might as well say, “In your dreams.” Willow sighs dramatically, sitting back in her seat.

“Fine. You can take me home, but can we not mention that my boyfriend was the one who dropped me off? I feel like we’re going to have enough drama on our hands once they see you guys, and my parents aren’t exactly fans of Cameron.”

“Why?” Campbell asks, looking at Willow in the rear view mirror. “Does he look like a poster child for goth fashion week, too? Do you have an aversion to color or something? Ever heard of pink?”

“Do you have an aversion to personal choice, or is that the patriarchy talking?”

Campbell smirks, and Willow does the same. My heart nearly falls out of my chest because of how much father and daughter look alike at that moment.

“Okay,” I say, ending the staring contest between them.

“We’ll wait to bring up the boyfriend thing.

” Willow seems to relax, but I continue.

“But if they ask, Willow, we aren’t going to lie for you.

We will tell them the truth. The only reason I’m agreeing not to tell them now is because you’re right.

There’s already going to be enough drama as it is. ”

Campbell looks like he wants to say something, but he clamps his mouth shut and doesn’t argue.

Willow chews on what I said for a minute before nodding and saying, “Fine. I can handle that.” She looks at Campbell. “What about you? Are you going to snitch?”

With his tongue in his cheek, Campbell turns his head toward me, and I silently beg him not to ruin this one chance we have with our daughter. He must understand what I’m asking because he sighs and says, “I won’t snitch.”

He doesn’t look at her when he says it. He looks directly at me, and I try to remember how to breathe.

Campbell’s attention has always felt like it’s too much and not enough, and it’s confusing.

So I pull my eyes away from his because my life is already confusing enough.

My gaze lands on his hand wrapped around the steering wheel.

It’s one with the gauze wrapped around it, and I wonder again what happened.

Curiosity and unease mix inside of me. I’m not sure what it is about the wound that holds my attention, but something about the way Campbell avoided answering my question makes my stomach ache.

I don’t have a long to think about it, though, because soon enough we pull into the Bryants’ driveway, and I have to prepare myself for the onslaught of a whole other type of worry.

Campbell pulls the truck to a stop, and we all file out, each lost in our own thoughts as we march up the sidewalk to the front door.

Campbell is at the front of our group, and he raises his hand and knocks.

Willow tries to hide behind him, but he gives her a look and steps to the side, forcing him closer to me.

His hand lands on my back, and I grit my teeth to repress the shiver that runs down my spine.

The heat of his hand soaks through my shirt, the sweetest torture I’ve ever known.

Footsteps hurry toward the front door on the other side, then the door opens, revealing a younger version of John. The boy has the same brown hair and dark eyes as his father, but when I look closer, I can see the kindness of his mother there, too.

He looks from me to Campbell to Willow, and his eyebrows raise.

“You’re in so much trouble.” His voice is lifted in a sing-song as more footsteps approach.

Silently, I hope it’s Jackie. She didn’t greet us with all-out hostility, but when a deep voice rings out, calling the kid’s name, I tense.

Campbell must feel my muscles bunch beneath his hand because he starts rubbing soothing circles on my back, but when I look up, he’s looking straight ahead with his jaw clenched tight.

“Kolton, who is it, son?” John asks as he rounds the corner and comes into view. His footsteps come to a stuttering stop when his eyes land on us. Burning anger flashes through his irises until his eyes land on Willow. Then they soften.

Willow winces.

“Hi, Daddy,” she says, and John softens a little more. If I wasn’t sure about him loving her before, seeing her with him now confirms it.

He sighs and turns his attention back to us. “Since you’re here, you might as well come in.”

All his anger from before is gone, and in its place stands reluctant acceptance.

______________________

We follow John into the living room just like we did the last time we were here. Except this time, Willow walks beside me. She watches her feet as she walks, her face hidden by her curls, so I can’t tell what she’s thinking. I don’t know if I’d be able to even if I could.

Kolton walks beside her, and I don’t miss the way he reaches out and squeezes her hand in comfort before dropping his back to his side. A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips because I’m glad she had that. I never had a sibling, but I always wanted one.

Campbell’s hand never leaves my back as we walk. Maybe I should ask him not to touch me, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve been lonely most of my life—even when I stood in a crowded room—but with Campbell’s hand on my back, I don’t feel like I have to face the world alone.

When we get to the living room, John turns to look at Willow.

“Willow,” he says, and her head snaps up, looking at him. “Please go get your mother. She’s upstairs.”

“But, Dad, I—”

John shakes his head. “Not right now, Willow. Just do as I asked. Kolton, you go with her.”

“No, Dad. I’m going to stay here with you,” he says, puffing out his chest as if he needs to protect his father from us, but I have a feeling we may need to be the ones to be protected from John. He has the ability to shatter our hearts, after all.

“No, son. You’ll do as I ask. Don’t think I’m dumb enough to assume that Willow achieved this all by herself,” John says, looking at us. “We’re going to talk about your part in all this, too, since it was you who told us she was at a friend’s house today.”

Kolton’s cheeks turn pink, and he looks toward his sister as if to confirm what she wants.

Whatever her choice is, he’ll stand by it.

I can see it in his eyes. When Willow doesn’t move, neither does he.

He crosses his arms over his chest and stands taller.

John sighs, rubbing his hand down his face.

“Willow, they will still be here when you get back. I won’t run them off.”

Willow looks at me as if to confirm what he’s saying, and I nod my head. It must be enough for her because she spins, disappearing back the way we came, and Kolton follows.

John watches his kids leave with a mix of pride and frustration in his gaze.

“Being a parent is the single hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life,” he says, still staring at where Willow and Kolton disappeared.

I don’t know if he is looking for an answer or if this is more of just a reflection, so I stay quiet. But Campbell speaks up. “I can imagine, sir.”

John chuckles as if what Campbell said was funny and rubs his jaw again. “No, you can’t, but you’re about to figure it out. So I guess I can’t fault you for not knowing. Come on, let’s sit. I have some things I would like to say to you before my wife and kids get back.”

He sits in the same place he did before, and so do we. But I hope it ends differently this time.

John looks at the picture on the mantel, the one I held the first time we were here, with a far-off look in his eyes, as if he’s remembering the day it was taken. Campbell and I look at each other, wondering if we should be the ones to speak first. Before we can make a decision, John speaks up.

“When we first brought Willow home, she was six months old, and even then, she was the happiest baby I’d ever been around.

Kolton cried all the time, but Willow was just content to take in the world around her.

It stayed that way for a while, but about two years ago, Jackie and I noticed a change.

It was more than the normal teenage angst. We’d been through that with Kolton, and it was hard enough.

But this—it was more, and it was scary.”

Campbell’s arm is touching mine, and I feel his muscles tense. But when I try to get his attention, he continues to stare straight ahead, ignoring me. John keeps talking, oblivious to the tension between us.

“We always planned on telling Willow she was adopted, not because we didn’t see her as part of our family, but because we thought she deserved to know in case she ever wanted to—” John swallows, the words getting stuck in his throat.

“In case she ever wanted to—” His voice wavers as he tries again, but it’s clear it will pain him to finish that sentence, so I do it for him.

“In case she ever wanted to find us.”

He nods, tears puddling on his eyelashes.

“Yes. I was never afraid of her finding you, not before— everything. I am her father. I raised her. I love her. I always felt secure enough in that position, but we still wanted to wait for a little while to tell her. We wanted to make sure she was old enough to really understand, but kids are cruel—plans and good intentions rarely matter when there’s evil in the world.

The kids started to tease her because she didn’t look like Jackie, Kolton, or me.

They teased her so much that Willow started to question it.

She came home one day, asking Jackie why she didn’t have her eyes or my nose.

We decided to tell her the truth. We were always going to anyway, but I never wanted it to happen like this.

We sat her down and told her that we’d always love her no matter what, but after that, she started to change.

She became more reserved and no longer cared about spending time with friends or family.

She rarely left her room, and it got to a point that we were so concerned that we took her to the doctor. ”

“What did they say?” Campbell’s voice shakes. I reach over, placing my hand on his knee, but he flinches. So I pull it back.

I don’t know what’s going on with him, but it’s something big.

“She was diagnosed with major depressive disorder. After her diagnosis, we started her on medicine, and I started to recognize my daughter again. But the thing with major depressive disorder is that you never know what will be the trigger.”

My head spins as I try to process everything. “Like us, right?”

John winces, meeting my gaze. “Yeah, like you. I was trying to protect her. You don’t understand what it’s like to look at someone, and not even recognize the person they are, for them not to even recognize themselves.”

“Yeah,” Campbell’s voice comes out hoarse. “I think I can.”

My brows furrow, but footsteps come down the hall, dragging the conversation to a stop.

John stands when he sees his wife come into his room, a smile on his lips that transforms his face.

He’s softer when he looks at her. Surprise flickers through Jackie’s eyes when she sees Campbell and me on the couch.

Willow and Kolton obviously didn’t prepare her for our presence, but she covers her shock up quickly with a smile.

“I didn’t realize we had guests, or I would have brought refreshments as I came.” She gives each of her kids a sharp look—that of a mother scolding her children—and they have the sense to duck their heads to avoid her gaze.

“It’s fine, ma’am,” Campbell says, standing to shake her hand. “If you don’t mind, I think we’d better just sit and talk so we can figure some things out.”

Jackie glances at her husband, and he gives her an encouraging nod. When she glances at Willow, and she still avoids her gaze, Jackie takes a deep breath and straightens her shoulders. “I think you’re right.”