Wildest Dreams - A Taylor Swift Adoption Fanfiction

Chapter 14: Eat Your Damn Pancakes

I'm curled into Taylor on the couch, still shaking and trying desperately to stop the tears that won't quit coming. Her shirt is soaked but she doesn't seem to care, just keeps running her fingers through my hair while I cling to her like some pathetic baby.

The room's phone rings - because of course Tree has the hotel line too.

"Speakerphone," Tree demands as soon as Taylor answers. "I need to hear the tiny delinquent is alive."

"I'm fine," I try to say, but it comes out as more of a sob. Fuck.

"Yeah, that sounds super fine." Tree's voice softens slightly. "Want to hear how I just destroyed Ms. Reynolds' entire life?"

I press my face harder into Taylor's neck, nodding even though Tree can't see me. Taylor tightens her hold.

"Tell her," Taylor says quietly, her free hand still stroking my hair.

"Well," Tree sounds downright gleeful, "turns out our friend had quite a few skeletons in her closet. Had. Past tense. Because now they're all over her employer's desk, her landlord's email, and possibly every government agency ever."

Another sob escapes me, but this one's almost like a laugh.

"That's not all," Tree continues. "Someone - not naming names - might have sent proof of her involvement in Sister Katherine's... activities... to every school and childcare facility around. She'll never work with kids again. And she got arrested. But that's besides the point."

"Good," Taylor says fiercely, and I feel her lips press against my hair.

"I also may have gotten her audited by the IRS," Tree adds casually. "And reported her to the health department for her questionable basement-related activities. And possibly sent some very interesting security footage to her entire church board or whatever they're called."

"Tree," I manage between hiccups, "you're scary."

"Damn right I am. And I'm not done yet." Her voice hardens. "No one touches our girl. No one."

I should protest the possessive words, but I'm too busy trying to burrow further into Taylor's embrace, like maybe if I get close enough the world will stop spinning.

"She's never going near you again," Taylor whispers. "None of them are."

"Promise?" The word slips out small and broken and pathetic.

"Promise," Taylor and Tree say in unison.

"And if they try," Tree adds, "I'll ruin them so thoroughly their great-grandchildren will feel it."

I manage a small laugh into Taylor's shirt. "You're insane."

"Obviously. Now, are you eating the breakfast I ordered? Because if you're not, I'm sending more."

"Tree," Taylor warns, but she's smiling. I can hear it in her voice.

"Don't Tree me, Swift. Our girl needs calories after that panic attack. And sugar. And probably therapy, but we'll work up to that."

"Our girl?" I meant it to come out sarcastic, but instead it's quiet and uncertain.

"Yes," Tree says firmly. "Our girl. Our tiny criminal. Our baby delinquent. Deal with it."

More tears spill over, but maybe they're different tears now. Taylor just holds me tighter.

"I might still run," I whisper.

"No you won't," Tree says confidently.

"No?"

"Nope. Because I ordered chocolate chip pancakes. And bacon. And those fancy eggs you pretended not to like yesterday. And-"