CHAPTER THIRTEEN: I'll Be There

"I'll reach out my hand to you.

I'll have faith in all you do.

Just call my name and I'll be there.

I'll be there to comfort you.

Build my world of dreams around you.

I'm so glad that I found you.

I'll be there with a love that's strong.

I'll be your strength,

I'll keep holding on."

"I'll Be There" by Jackson 5

Amy left the room and once she was halfway down the stairs Lucy heard her groaning miserably and whining about her stomach. Carol Preston's soothing voice with an undercurrent of concern floated up the stairs and brought back every bit of melancholy Amy had chased away. It had been so long since her mother had talked to her like that. Like a loving mother instead of a drill sergeant or a coach. She missed her mother.

Lucy tried not to let those thoughts overwhelm her as she stealthily snuck down the back set of stairs, out the back door, and through the back gate. She could cry about her mother later.

She spotted Wyatt's Charger and hurriedly opened the passenger side door. She slid inside with a false beaming smile. She didn't even bother with her seatbelt or any sort of pleasantry before she told him to floor it.

"Get me out of here, please," she said as she glanced toward her house in Wyatt's rear view mirror. "Let's go to the carnival or Waffle House, whatever's still open. Let's just go. You and me, right now."

Wyatt didn't budge. He didn't reach to start the car or shift gears. She avoided looking him the eyes because somehow she could tell...he knew. He knew something wasn't right. Did she have a sign on her forehead or something? Was she labeled with her own scarlet letter? A letter that labeled her a horrible ungrateful daughter who cared more about her own happiness than her mothers? A horrible daughter who threw her dead father in her mother's face? Who screamed at her across the living room and accused her of being underhanded and manipulative? God, what had she done? She yelled at her own mother! Her mother who worked full time, acted as both mother and father as best she could, and provided a roof over their heads. Her mother, who helped make her everything she was today.

"I will be happy to take you where ever you wanna go, Lucy," Wyatt said softly as she felt his concerned gaze on her. "But I don't think you really want this. Did you...did you sneak out? I didn't even see you leave the house and you came from the backyard-"

"She sent me to my room!" she yelled suddenly. She surprised herself with that outburst, but Wyatt didn't flinch. It felt good to say it outloud to someone. "Like I'm ten years old! But then she was right I-I was acting childish. I mean I...hit her over the head with dad. How low do you have to be to use your deceased father as a verbal weapon against your mother?"

She looked over at Wyatt for the first time since she sat down in his car and found his clear blue eyes intently focused on her. "Slow down. Catch me up. What happened?"

"I—I told her she wants me to go to an Ivy League school more than I do, I called her out for conning me into that date with Noah, called her manipulative, and underhanded—"

"Wow, you were on a roll, huh?" Wyatt asked her with a the barest hint of a grin.

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. "That's not even the worst of it. She threatened me with R-H Academy. She said that if I kept up with my attitude then she would send me to R-H with no further discussion."

"She what?" Wyatt asked in concern. His face pinched in a look of worry and pain. "She wouldn't."

"I don't know anymore. She looked pretty adamant. And I didn't help my case any," Lucy told him with a watery sheepish smile. "I told her dad would never approve. And I knew it was a touchy subject for her but I was just so furious. And then her reply…." Lucy let her sentence float away as she shook her head and rubbed her tearful eyes. "Oh god, I felt like she hit me. She didn't but I felt her words sting across my face just the same."

"What did she say, Luce?"

His tone sounded like steel to her ears. She could hear his anger and concern clashing through the air in the car with a solid metallic clang.

"Wyatt, it doesn't matter-"

"It always matters and it always helps to say it. What did she say?" He asked again.

She bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering, took a deep breath, and then quoted her mother, "None of us know what he would say because he's not here, is he? I'm the only parent you have left."

She did her best to mimic her mother, inflection. It wasn't my quite right because the tears in her eyes drifted down to her throat and stuck there. Wyatt visibly struggled with the words. His jaw tightened and he reached a hand out to her before pulling it back, as if he didn't know if the action was allowed. If she wasn't so upset she would laugh at him.

"And what did you say before that?" His voice sounded deceptively even. "What did you supposedly say that you think deserved that reply?"

"Dad would never have allowed you to send me there against my will," she told him, much less passionately than she shouted it earlier that night. "He said it was my choice."

Wyatt nodded as his eyes searched her face with curiosity. "Is that true? Did he say that?"

"Yes," Lucy answered. "I didn't want to go and Mom kept showing me pictures and her yearbooks and I got worried that they were going to send me there no matter what. So he and I talked and he said it was up to me and that if I preferred to learn in a public school environment then they wouldn't stop me."

"So then your mom does know what he would say?" Wyatt asked in a stern voice. This time he did reach for her. He took her hand in his and laced their fingers together as he continued. "I know you love your mother, but what you said to her did not deserve her reply. What did you say that was so wrong? Nothing. You stated the truth. She, on the other hand, used your emotions against you. I don't know all of you, Lucy. I know a small part of the picture, but even I know you don't handle guilt well. Your mother was planning on using that guilt to win the argument. You said she called you childish?"

She stared down at their joined hands and nodded. She closed her eyes against the memories of her mother's disappointed and angry face, but it remained there. It was burned to the backs of her eyelids.

"Hearing that made you feel small and helpless. It made you question whether or not you were right. Didn't it?"

Her eyes popped open and she looked over at him in surprise. "How did you...how did you know that?"

"Been there," he told her as he squeezed her hand again. "My Dad is...not the nicest guy in town. From what I can understand, Lucy, you simply told her how you feel. Should you have yelled it at her? No. Was your tone probably disrespectful? Yes. But as soon as those feelings were out in the open it should have become about resolving them. Your mother chose the reaction that would best benefit her not you. From where I sit, I think she's hoping you'll stew in guilt and tell her she's right. But she isn't right. Not when it comes to how you feel. Only you know what works for you. Don't let her force your hand, okay?"

The tears were back and this time they weren't staying behind her lids or gathering in her lashes. This time they fell. Silently and freely. She knew what Wyatt meant. She felt his words to be true. But she did not want to spend all of her free time fighting her mother. Why couldn't she just let it go? Why did it matter if the previous however many generations had attended Rittenhouse? Why, despite all her other accomplishments, was her refusal to go there a point of contention? Her choice was to be a disappointment or be miserable.

What kind of choice was that?

"Luce," she heard Wyatt say softly, above her crying. "What's wrong? Hey," he said with an emotional gulp. "Talk to me."

She felt his other hand under her chin as he tilted her face up. She winced as his eyes met her bleary, red ones. "I'm sorry. I'm—I'm a mess."

"A little," he said with a small teasing smirk. "But you're upset so that's okay. What's going on up there, Valedictorian?" On the word's 'up there' he very lightly tapped the center of her forehead and she couldn't help but smile feebly at the gesture.

"Nothing else I do will ever make this up to her," she told him as her tiny smile vanished. "I am always going to disappoint her. It doesn't matter that I have worked my ass off to be top of the class and involved in every school event. It doesn't matter that I have rewritten every damn paper she didn't approve of just because she claims I can 'do better.' It doesn't matter that since I've joined Decathlon we've been state champs every year. All that time I spent deliberately not having a life for school and for my future means nothing to her. Because I won't go to this stupid private school...she will never think I'm good enough."

Wyatt didn't say anything in reply at first. He leaned across her to open his glove box, which brought him closer to her than he had been all night. A fact that brought her a strange amount of comfort. He pulled out a stack of napkins, obviously from the last fast food establishment he had visited, and set them in her lap. Once that was done, he turned in his seat to face her and took both her hands in his.

"Just because your mother may not see you as enough does not mean it's true. You are the most intelligent, caring, and patient person I have ever met, aside from my mother or my grandparents. If your mom can't see that or be proud of that then that is her loss. You are so much more than whatever school you decide to attend, Lucy. Don't let her make you believe otherwise. Okay?"

Lucy sniffled and nodded but didn't reply. She didn't know how to reply. He said so many wonderful things. "I'm sorry I made you come all this way just to watch me have an emotional breakdown in your car."

"I'm not," he told her with a warm smile and a shake of his head. "I'm...actually, I don't know, honored, I guess? I like that you feel comfortable and trust me enough to come to me. I'm happy to be here for you when you need me. Anytime you need me."

The stack of napkins, that Lucy had yet to touch, scattered to the floorboard of his car while she practically leapt across the seat. Her arms went around his neck and her body leaned against his, without warning. He went stumbling backwards for a moment before his back met the door. She heard him chuckle as his chin came to rest on her shoulder and his arms wrapped around her waist. The rumble of that affectionate chuckle did new and interesting things to her heartbeat.

"Thank you," she told him through the last of her tears. "I'm happy you're here for me too."

She felt his arms tighten around her as he held her closer. He seemed content to keep her there, tucked in his arms. He made no move to release her and she never once loosened her grip on him. She knew she would have to go back home eventually but for right now…

The only place she wanted to be was anywhere with him.

"So, you still want to go back to that carnival?" He asked. Neither made a move to pull out of their embrace.

She shook her head against his shoulder. "No, I just want to sit here with you. If that's okay?"

"Nothing I'd rather do," he answered in low tone. "Besides, sneaking out is a big step for a goody two shoes like yourself," he said teasingly as he turned his head and spoke into her hair. She felt his warm breath on her neck and it was all she could do to keep herself from shivering. "Actually going somewhere once you sneak out will have to be our next lesson."

A watery chuckle escaped her as she dared to press her face into the curve of his neck. "What are you teaching me? Subterfuge?"

"Everybody's gotta learn sometime, Valedictorian."

She thought she heard a brief crack in his voice that time, but she couldn't be sure. "Let's just pray I make it back inside without incident or you won't have the facetime to teach me anything for a while."

"If she catches you just say you came downstairs for a glass of water or something," he advised her. "Much less obvious that way. Don't pause, don't stammer, just answer."

This time she let out a full laugh. "Thanks, James Dean. God, you really are a bad influence aren't you?"

His hand lightly caressed up and down her spine before he replied with a casual lift of one shoulder. "A bad influence in small doses can be a good thing. You can't live your life doing everything you're told because sometimes what you're told to do isn't right. I've learned that the hard way. Trust me."

"I already do. Trust you, that is," she replied. She surprised herself with how eager the words were to leave her mouth. But saying it felt right. He needed to know.

He pulled back to look her in the eyes and smiled slowly. His hand found her cheek and she felt his thumb trace over the dried up tracks of tears on her face. "That trust is definitely mutual, ma'am."

His eyes drifted downward and his gaze stopped on her lips. Without even thinking she was leaning forward in time with him, ready to meet him halfway, but a buzz in her back pocket startled her. She pulled back just a fraction of an inch with a wince. The bubble of tension around them burst and he quickly retreated as far away from her as he could get. She sighed tiredly and pulled her phone out of her pocket.

"Sorry," she told him with a sheepish grin as she held up her phone. The message on her lock screen made her feel both panicked and resigned all at once. She didn't even know that was possible. Resigned because she had to leave him and didn't want to. Panicked because her risk of being caught just increased. "It's my sister."

"Your sister has a phone?" Wyatt asked with a quirked brow and a disapproving face. "Isn't she in elementary school?"

"She's only supposed to use it in an emergency or for mom and I to call her if we're late picking her up," Lucy told him with a chuckle and a playful smirk. "But nice to know how you feel about kids and cell phones."

"You have to go, don't you?" Wyatt asked with a worried glance.

Lucy nodded and bit her bottom lip nervously. "Amy was distracting mom for me, but mom sent her back up to bed so I should go before mom tries to check on me."

"Yeah, okay, don't need my mentor getting grounded," Wyatt told her with a grin. "Not sure that would look good for us."

She laughed softly at him as she pocketed her phone. "Not to mention it would cut into our study sessions and I look forward to those the every week."

He nodded his agreement with a warm smile. "They're the best thing about school these days."

Her eyes lingered on his far too long and they both knew it. She cleared her throat and shook away the fog he always seemed to leave her in as she reached for the door handle. "See you Monday, Wyatt."

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a dutiful nod.

Wyatt waited until Lucy was safely inside her back gate before driving away. The night wasn't what he thought it was going to be when she first texted him but in some ways it was better.

Being there for Lucy was beginning to take priority for him. She needed someone and he was more than happy to be that someone. The conversation about her mother and the pressure Lucy was under replayed in his head the entire drive home. Between Jonas and her mother, he more than understood her jittery demeanor the first time they talked. He really thought she had been afraid of him that day her car wouldn't start, but it wasn't him. It was never him.

Her mother was a controlling piece of work and Jonas was cut from the same cloth.

He worried about Lucy before but now that he knew she faced that at school and at home he worried even more. Her mother's words felt like a slap, Lucy said. A slap. It made his blood boil and his fists clench around the steering wheel. And then the way she was so upset at not being good enough…

Any person who made Lucy Preston feel she wasn't good enough was immediately on his list.

She was the best person he had ever known. No one should make her question that. Especially not her own mother. No, Lucy needed someone like him. Someone to make sure she looked out for herself. Someone to help her achieve her own happiness and stop living solely for others. Someone to support her with unflinching faith. He could be that person. Hell, he already was that person.

He parked outside the shop and fired off a quick text to her as he cut the engine.

"How'd it go? You good?"

The dots danced at the bottom of his screen for a moment before her reply came through.

"All clear. Mission accomplished." She followed that statement with a winking emoji and thumbs up.

He chuckled and shook his head. She was such a dork. But the fond affection that unfurled in his chest at the sight of her words couldn't be stopped.

"What are you? A secret agent now?" he replied.

"This message will self destruct in five, four, three…"

He laughed out loud in the quiet of his car and rolled his eyes.

"Dork."

"Takes one to know one. That's all I'm gonna say. G'night, Wyatt."

"Night, ma'am."

The smile was still stretched wide across his face as he entered the house but it quickly fell when a light clicked on and he was greeted with the sight of his dad at the kitchen table. Eyes bloodshot and angry, whisky bottle clutched in a white knuckle grip. Something always had to ruin his night. He couldn't have anything good without being faced with something or someone equally bad. Figured.

"Where you been, boy? It's late."

"It's not even eleven o'clock," Wyatt fired back. "That's hardly late."

"You didn't answer my question," he sneered.

"Out with Dave," Wyatt said with a sigh. It was a lie but it's not like his father actually gave a shit anyway.

"You looked too happy to be out with the Baumgardner kid," his dad replied with a scoff. "Don't think I don't know what you been up to. You were with that Preston girl I bet."

"So what if I was?" He asked as he crossed in front of his dad to get a water from the fridge.

"She'll ruin you, son."

The words 'don't call me son' were on the tip of his tongue but he bit them back. He had a relatively good night apart from watching Lucy laugh with some RHA douchebag named Noah and he really didn't want to taint that by being the old bastard's punching bag. Not tonight.

"I guess that's the risk I'll have to take," Wyatt told him.

"She'll fill your head full of foolish dreams and then forget all about you once this mentorship is over. She's a distraction we can't have right now. You understand? You got work to do in that garage and I will not tolerate you slacking off for the daughter of that snob bit-"

"I get it." He desperately needed to cut off the end of that sentence. Even if Wyatt wasn't Carol Preston's biggest fan these days, hearing that term so close to a reference to Lucy would set him off. He was trying to avoid a fight. "But you don't know her. She's not her mother."

The older Logan snorted derisively. "They all turn into their mothers eventually. But fine, go ahead. Let that little girl turn you inside out. That's fine, just don't expect me to hold back a 'told you so' when she drops you like a sack of rotten ol'potatoes, boy."

Wyatt didn't bother with a response as he turned his back and headed toward his room. He hated the way that son of a bitch's words always made their way under his skin. They itched and burned just under the surface and reminded him of everything he hated about himself when he needed it least.

"And I don't want to see her hanging around here. She ain't welcome."

Wyatt froze as he marched toward his room. His teeth ground against each other and his eyes closed. Images of his father finding Lucy alone in the garage flooded his brain along with the hundreds of ways that could all go tragically wrong. He knew his father wouldn't want Lucy around, but that was his own assumption. Hearing it straight from the jack ass's mouth gave those fears a new sense of urgency.

So much for those study sessions he liked so much. Oh yeah, and that work bench fantasy he'd been holding on to? Now he knew that was all it would ever be. A fantasy. Maybe Lucy should stay a fantasy too, for that matter. He wanted to be there for her, to protect her. That included protecting her from himself and from his father. She didn't need to be exposed to violence the way he was. She had enough on her plate.

"You hear me, kid?" His dad called after him.

Wyatt rolled his eyes with a huff. "Yeah, I heard you."

How could he not?