A Way Back Home | Adopted by Gerard Way (Book Two)

Reports (27)

Gerard's POV

My brain went into autopilot when the text flashed on my phone screen: Come home. Emergency. She couldn't explain any further than that. Lindsey's always straightforward, she says what she's thinking, she doesn't play mind games with me. Something was really wrong.

What was awaiting us at the house wasn't what I was expecting. Though, I'm not sure what I was expecting. Maybe some flames? Certainly not a police car parked out front.

"Dad," Eve says slowly, her voice shaking. What she means goes unsaid: What the fuck is going on?

"I don't know, Eve," I reply. I park the car on the curb and she and I immediately unbuckle our seatbelts and head into the house. Cautiously, might I add. No matter how much I want to run in there at full speed to make sure that my wife and unborn baby are okay.

The hallway is empty and so is the kitchen. Eve is close behind me as we step into the living room to find Lindsey sat up straight on the couch, her eyebrows knit, worry evident on her face. In one armchair sits a police officer, and in the other, a woman I've never seen before. She's wearing a white button up and a black pencil skirt. Her dark hair is up in a tight bun and square glasses frame her young looking face.

"He's here, officer," Lindsey says without even saying hello. "Can you tell us what's going on now? Please?"

"Have a seat, Mr. Way." The cop gestures to the space on the couch next to Lindsey, so I sit. "Before we get into it, this is Ms. Stephanie Diaz." He nods in the direction of the woman.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Way," she says pleasantly. We both stay silent. She turns to Eve, who's still standing in the doorway, fiddling with her sleeves nervously. "I'd like to talk to Ms. Way in private."

"Tell me what's going on first," Eve demands, sounding a lot less nervous than I know she is.

Diaz smiles at her sadly. "I'll explain everything. Come, is there somewhere we can go to talk?" She stands up from the chair.

Eve looks at me, and in her eyes I can see through the tough, stubborn image she's playing that she's scared. But I have no choice but to nod subtly. Her eyes widen like I've just grown a second head. She obviously can't believe I'm trusting this stranger with her.

"We can go upstairs," she says, sighing dejectedly and leading the way up to her room. Her footsteps on the stairs sound a little more aggressive than usual.

Evelyn's POV

Cool, cool, cool, so my dad is just letting this happen. He's just leaving me to deal with this woman and wonder what the fuck is going on in the living room. This isn't the first time a cop has been in my living room, though, and anyone who knows my past shouldn't be surprised by that.

"Reported abuse."

"Reported child neglect."

"Reported sexual assault."

Reported, but never caught, until it was too late. Until I'd already had bones broken and my innocence taken away before I even knew what that meant.

I enter my bedroom and leave the door open, but Ms. Diaz shuts it behind her. I feel my pulse quicken and my palms start to sweat, so I shove my hands into my pockets. Still, I try not to let the nerves coursing through my veins show on my face.

"Why don't you have a seat," she says, gesturing to my bed.

I gesture in turn to the chair in the corner of my room so she sits down first. Somehow, it makes me feel a little better, like I have the high ground here.