Finally.

"Mom."

She didn't stop her ramblings.

He gave her a shake, and she looked up at him with watery eyes, jaw slack, skin grey and harsh-looking in the streetlight. "You've got two choices."

Her jaw snapped shut. She seemed a little more alert. He rarely used that tone with her.

"We go to the police and report the assault or you go to rehab. That's it."

She let out a bark of mean laughter. "Go to hell. Not doing either one."

"Well, then, here's a third choice. You can go back to the guy who beat you up. He'll continue to take care of you. But I won't."

She looked away, not even blinking. "Fuck you."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

Nicole collapsed on her bed. Her hair smelled like cinnamon, and her shirt had tomato sauce stains, but she'd had a great day. The O'Donnell's post-Christmas holiday bash was always a huge deal-an open house with people hanging out from noon till midnight-and this year didn't disappoint.

She hadn't heard from Dylan in two days, so she'd stopped checking her phone, what with the party and everything. But now, missing him pretty hard, she reached for it. Swiping the screen, she noticed several missed calls, texts and voicemails. So many from Dylan. What's going on? She hit his speed dial.

He answered right away. "Hey, sunshine."

Hearing his voice made her ridiculously happy. She pushed back against some pillows. "Hey."

"What's doin'?" It sounded like he was in a car. She could hear voices in the background, laughter, tunes on the radio.

"I caught you at a bad time."

"Nope."

"You're in a car?"

"Sawyer's truck."

"Sounds like you're having fun."

"Yep."

"So that's why I haven't heard from you in two days." It hadn't even occurred to her that he'd been drinking. He'd been on a bender.

"No, I-"

"Dylan," she said, "I'm not angry. I want you to have a good time."

"I wasn't going to say that. Look, we're here. Let me call you back in a few."

Whatever. He was the one who'd left a million messages. She'd been so worried when she hadn't heard from him-had imagined the worst things happening with his mom. Turns out he was having a great time.

He just didn't have time to talk to her. Super. She rolled off the bed. She wasn't going to sit around feeling sorry for herself. She hadn't planned on tackling clean up until morning, but maybe she'd get a head start now. Pocketing her phone, she headed downstairs.

"Hey, pumpkin," her dad called from the couch. Ryan and Brandon stretched their long legs out beside him, three pairs of big, sock-covered feet lined up on the coffee table.

Gathering up her hair, she pulled the elastic from around her wrist and drew it into a ponytail. She grabbed some beer bottles on her way to the kitchen.

"You're cleaning up now?" Ryan didn't sound happy about that.

"Wait till tomorrow and we'll help," Brandon said. "Not doin' shit right now."

"Eh. I'm a little restless." She reached down to pick up a crostini someone had dropped on the rug. "I'll get started now."

"Still haven't heard from Mr. Hot Sexy Pants?" Brandon asked. Ryan elbowed him, leaning forward to grab a water bottle.

She smiled because it seemed Brandon had really gotten Gina's message. Since she'd reamed him for ignoring her, he'd been hanging around more often, asking her questions. She'd wound up telling him all about Dylan.

"No, I just talked to him."

His brow furrowed. "I saw you five minutes ago."

"We could only talk for a second. He's going out with his friends. He'll call me back."

Her dad muted the TV. "What happened, sweet pea?"

She rolled her eyes. "Gina got to you, too?"

He motioned for her to come closer. She set the bottles on the table and faced him. "Gina was right, pumpkin." He patted the broad arm of the leather couch, and she perched on it. "I'll tell you what, we love you something fierce."

Her gaze shifted to her brothers, both watching her carefully.

"But when you came back to us, sugar buns, we didn't know what to do for you."

Ryan looked away uncomfortably. He'd ignored her more than the other two.

"You came back all fucked up," Brandon said.

"Thank you." She scooped up a handful of peanuts and tossed them at him. She wasn't insulted. She had been weird. Detached, watchful, and- "You fucking hoarded food." Brandon scooped up some peanuts, cracked them open, and tossed them in his mouth.

That. "Yeah, well, I went days without it, jerkface."

Her brothers cringed.

"Anyhow," her dad said. "My point is that we didn't know how to act around you. And I think it really just built on itself. I'm not making excuses-we should've made a bigger effort." He looked at the boys, and they seemed chastised. "But we didn't know what to do."

"All I've ever wanted was for you guys to feel comfortable around me. I mean, I know we don't have much in common, but I just wanted to hang out with you, talk to you. You guys were all about sports and hanging out with your friends. It just felt like you didn't have time for me."

To his credit, Brandon's features colored.

"Well, now I feel like shit," Ryan said. "You make it sound so easy."

"I know I must've scared you guys. I get that you didn't know what to do with me."

"I still don't," Ryan said. When he got sharp looks from Brandon and his dad, he said, "What? I thought we're being honest here."

"We are." Nicole laughed at his total confusion. "And I appreciate it."

"So, you want to come to a party with me?" Ryan flashed his trademark smile.

"She doesn't party, asshole," Brandon said. "And she doesn't want to be around all your shallow friends."

"Oh, now they're shallow? This from the same guy who begs to come to my parties?"

"I didn't say I didn't want to be around them. I said she doesn't. See, you don't know her at all. I do." Brandon punched his shoulder. "And you better fuckin' invite me."

"Not sure you can handle it."

"Handle what? Of course I can handle it."

"Don't want you embarrassing me." Ryan brought the water bottle to his mouth to cover his grin.

"You think I can't handle myself around your friends?"

"I see the way you look at Emma's friends."

"They're fuckin' models. Who wouldn't look at them the way I do?"

"Gettin' boners around them's embarrassing."

"I don't get boners. Jesus."

"So, basically, this is what I've been missing out on by not hanging out with you guys?" Nicole smiled at her dad.

"Exactly," he said.

"She missed out on years of sage advice from the oldest," Ryan said.

"I should take advice from a guy who dates a model?" She made a face, and he tossed a pillow at her.

"I go out with the women in my dating pool." Ryan grinned.

"How do I get into that pool?" Brandon asked.

"Stop hanging out in underage clubs," Ryan said.

"I'm twenty, asshole."

"Ever hear of fake IDs?"

They all looked at their dad. "No."

And then all of them burst out laughing.

Just then her phone chimed. She checked the screen and energy rushed through her.

"Mr. Hot Sexy Pants." Brandon said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Dylan?" She waved to her family and headed up the stairs.

"Hey, sorry about that." No more noise in the background.

"It's fine. If you're out with your friends, we can talk tomorrow."

"We are going to talk tomorrow."

"Okay."

"In person."

"What?"

"I'll be at the airport at seven AM."

Adrenaline punched through her system. "You're coming here?"

"Is that all right?"

"Of course it's all right. Oh, my God. You're coming here-for the rest of the break?"

"Yes."

"Oh, my God. I'm so happy. But...I don't understand...what's going on with your mom?"

"It's a long story."

"Where are you right now?"

"Sawyer's."

"Can you talk?"