Snow On The Beach // R.C.

1.14

I wake up to my phone ringing off the hook.

"Hello?" I groggily answer, not even having looked at the caller ID.

"Cecilia, I've been calling you all morning. Where are you?" It's Sheriff Peterkin. I haven't heard from her since I reported those two Royal Merchant fanatics for harassing my brother. I took that as a good sign that they wouldn't be a problem anymore and that John was being a good little Pogue. But something about the alarm in her voice has panic bells sounding in my head.

"I'm home." Sitting up too fast, my head spins.

"I tried to stop them," is all she says.

I don't ask her to elaborate, because I already know exactly who she's talking about. The DCS are coming for John and I.

"When will they be here?" I breathe, the sound as shaky as my body feels.

"They're already on their way, with Deputy Thomas."

My head falls into my hands. "Okay, Sheriff. Thank you. For everything. You've done so much for John and me."

"You two be careful now. Be smart. I'm going to do what I can."

I thank her again, and then I mosey out of bed. Brushing my teeth and changing into my favorite white sundress, I make my bed and then sit on the edge, staring at my room. It's spotless. Like always. The first thing I did when I got home last night was unpack everything and put it all away. Then I checked on John, finding him fast asleep and drooling in bed. Then I went and made sure all the doors and windows were locked (I couldn't shake the feeling that someone followed me). Then I took a shower and got in bed.

My mind stayed silent the entire time.

Sue me, but I'm slightly grateful for this DCS business because it's keeping my mind occupied that much longer. Rafe and our kiss is the last thing I want to be thinking about. As I walk towards the kitchen, I don't want to admit that I'm embarrassed by it—by how desperate I was for it.

"Sissy!"

And I'm back to reality. John is in a chokehold in the middle of our living room, held by who I assume is the Deputy Thomas that Peterkin warned me about. Cheryl, the DCS agent assigned to our case, is yelling at them to calm down. I don't know how I didn't hear all this yelling. I must have been so deep in my own thoughts that the rest of the world drowned out.

"Hey!" I scream. "Get off him! Don't touch my brother! Cheryl, do something!"

I'm about to run forward and jump on the cop's back when Cheryl, in her pressed suit and delicate little kitten heels, shouts, "Enough!"

Deputy Thomas eases off, leaving John in a heap on the floor. I throw myself down next to him, the skin on my knees screaming. Glancing down, I notice a set of scrapes on either one, both open and bleeding. Suddenly, I'm brought back to the golf course yesterday where I acquired them.

"Hey, hey," I whisper, pulling my brother's head into my lap. He's trying to hide it, but I can feel his tears through the way he trembles. "It's okay. I'm here now. Everything is going to be okay." Zeroing in on Cheryl, I say, "I can't believe you were just letting that happen. Neither of you have any right to touch my brother that way."

"Cecilia, he was trying to run," she says through lipstick coated lips.

"Jeez, I wonder why."

"Cecilia—"

"I only have a little over a month left," I interrupt her as I run my hands soothingly through John's hair. "That's it, and I'll be 18. I can legally be John's guardian then, and you won't have to worry about us anymore. Just—just give us the month. You know, I have an internship here with Ward Cameron, and it's going really well. I can't just leave! And John has his friends—they're like his family. Please. I'm begging. Give us until September 1st. We won't tell anyone if you won't," I force out a laugh, though it's much raspier than I wanted it to be.