The lightness that I felt after walking out of Angela Farrish's office doesn't last long, and it unfortunately shows.

With only T-2 days to spare until Savannah's eighteenth birthday, I find myself a nervous wreck, with what feels like a ball of anxiety permanently lodged in my throat.

I make the choice to take off of work from both RJ's as well as Vice. A part of me stews over how much money I'm potentially losing, my mind racing with mental calculations and the small fear that we might not get all the bills paid next month. But then another part of me throws that notion completely out of the fucking window. I realize that nothing matters to me more than doing absolutely everything in my power to ensure that Savannah isn't ripped from our household.

It doesn't fucking matter to me if Savannah is legally an adult in two days time. The thought of being in this house without her carefree and exuberant attitude to lighten the place up leaves me feeling hollow and empty. She's my flesh and blood, the only fucking DNA that I can stand to be around. I refuse to let her be even one night away from me with someone that isn't me. Someone that she doesn't know or trust.

During the day, while Savannah is at school, my only friend is at work, and my boyfriend is at his apartment sleeping in order to prepare for an all-nighter at Vice, I quickly realize that the silence that echoes off of the walls is deafening. So, in order to distract myself from the scattered thoughts that keep taking my mind to the "worst case scenario" zone, I take it upon myself to stress-clean.

I spend the entirety of Tuesday morning on my hands and knees in the kitchen/dining room area harshly swiping at cracked, dirt-stained linoleum. A mop bucket full of a diluted bleach and tap water mixture that stings my nostrils sits next to me, my hands are adorned by a pair of hideous yellow gloves, and I wipe furiously at the stained floor with a big foam sponge. I then proceed to mop the kitchen, organize the pantry and refrigerator, wipe down all of the baseboards that line the living room, and lysol the shit out of the furniture.

As the afternoon drags on exceptionally slowly, I text back and forth with Savannah, letting her know that Angela still hasn't called or stopped by. I do my best to brush off her concerns and urge her to go in for her shift at the grocery store after school. My number one concern throughout all of this has been making sure that Sav's normal routine hasn't been touched by the uncertainty that hangs over our heads.

I'm standing on a chair in the middle of the living room, my arms stretched up high with a duster in my hand, attempting to clean the ceiling fan when a loud, sharp knock rings out against the front door. My head swings in its direction, noting that the window beside it tells me the sky is significantly darker as nightfall approaches.

I pause for a moment, one hand in the air, my heart in my throat. I jump down from the chair and hastily wipe my dusty hands on my leggings. Straightening up, aware that I'm covered in sweat, dust, and grime, I tentatively walk towards the door, nervously tightening my ponytail as I inch forward. My skin feels flushed and my heart is racing.

I timidly open the door to reveal none other than Angela Farrish herself. My heart immediately sinks to my stomach.

"Aria," She smiles, sticking a hand out. "It's good to see you again."

I hastily wipe my hand against my leggings again before returning her handshake. I clear my throat and step back, opening the door wider. "Come in," I say hoarsely.

My eyes scan her outfit, noting that she's once again casually dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a graphic t-shirt. This time it's Star Wars themed, matching the vibrantly colored tattoo that's displayed proudly on her forearm.

"Um, do you wanna sit?" I ask nervously. "Or do you want to get straight into the tour? Savannah's room is—"

"We can sit," She smiles kindly.

I lead her to the kitchen and watch numbly as she lightly places a tote bag I didn't realize she was holding at her feet.

"Did you want something to drink? I think we have-"

"Aria," She laughs breezily. "Please, sit. Relax. I don't bite."

Sighing, I plop down in the chair across from her. I nervously bring the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my palms, anxiously twisting the fabric in my lap. In this moment I don't feel twenty-one, almost twenty-two. I feel like the same seven year old child that watched a woman with narrowed, hawk-like eyes scan our living room in suspicion, my stomach in knots just as it was nearly fifteen years ago.

"I first want to apologize for dropping by so late in the evening," Angela begins.

My eyes dart towards the stovetop, noting that it's almost 8 P.M. I've been cleaning all day, lost in my thoughts, and hadn't even realized how late it had gotten.

"To tell you the truth, Ms. Adkins, I wasn't going to stop by today."

I freeze, confused and nervous.

Angela smiles wryly. "It's been apparent to me since the moment that I met you and Savannah that your sister is living in a happy and healthy home. I do, however, want to note that you are not her legal guardian, and she's still a minor."

My throat closes up. "It's only been just us for about a month or two now," I hastily explain. "Our mom was living here, but she..."

I hesitate, unsure of whether or not to add "But she was on drugs," because if anything, that will get Savannah taken from me.

"Savannah has dropped a few hints about y'all's situation," Angela assures me. "Not to mention the fact that she turns eighteen in a few days."

"Two," I add quickly.

"Yes, two," She says, still smiling.

My eye twitches, and I have the urge to yell "Why are you smiling? This is serious shit," but I refrain. Barely.

"Anyway," she continues. "I wasn't going to stop by because I'm aware that she turns eighteen in two days. But, a courtesy visit is all a part of the job. Aria, there's no reason for me to believe that Savannah is in any kind of danger in this household."

"Did someone say she was?" I ask.

Angela hesitates. "You know I can't tell you that."

Tears prick my eyes. "With all due respect Mrs. Farrish, I know that you can't tell me that. But that doesn't make it any easier to hear when there's someone out there trying to separate my baby sister and I."

Angela reaches a hand out and rests it on my forearm, giving it a gently squeeze.

"I understand," She says gently. "Just doing my job, remember?"

I nod stiffly, my stomach turning.

"My job isn't easy, and this is one of the parts of it that's particularly hard. I want to give you the answers to the questions you have, but I unfortunately can't. The one answer I can give you, though, is that Savannah isn't leaving."

I freeze. My brain takes a minute to reboot, and suddenly the only thing running through my mind on rampant repeat is, Savannah isn't leaving.

And if that one revelation makes me burst into tears like a fucking baby, then how the hell am I going to survive her moving away for college?

Angela interrupts my thoughts of "Would they let me live on the floor of her dorm room?" by handing me a tissue that she retrieved from her bag.

"I'm sorry," I sniffle, wiping my nose, hating that I'm crying in front of a stranger again.

Swear I went my whole life without shedding a tear until just a few months ago. Something tells me it's not a bad thing, though. I've spent a majority of my years keeping my emotions under lock because I had no one I trusted to show them too, and I didn't want to unload on Savannah, wanting her to enjoy being a kid for as long as possible. I grew up thinking emotion was bad, and I hate that I never had the opportunity to see just how good it feels to fucking cry it all out.

Angela's voice once again rips me from my thoughts. "You're fine. It's clear to me how much your sister means to you. Never apologize for that."

I nod shyly, clenching the tissue in my fist. My hands itch with the urge to hunt down my phone, eager to tell Savannah and Austin the good news.

"Now, I just need to give you this," Angela says, pulling an envelope from her bag.

She offers it to me, the weight of it heavy in my hands. It's stuffed with what feels like twenty pages. I run the tip of my index finger over the words "Child Protective Services" that are written in the top left corner.

"That's yours to keep," She informs me. "Consider this case closed, Ms. Adkins."

I swallow. "That's it?" I ask tentatively. "Just like that? No one's gonna storm in here in the middle of the night and yell "Sike"?"

Her eyes soften. "I promise. I understand how stressful this has been on you guys, but I'm happy to be the one to tell you that it's over."

I nod, too choked up to speak, not wanting to tell her that's it's been an absolute fucking nightmare come true. Not to mention the fact that even though she's telling me that it's over, it doesn't feel that way. And I don't think it will until I get my father and my mom off my back. Until then, I'll cautiously celebrate the one victory I wasn't sure I'd be given.

Angela stands and I follow suit, following her to the front door. I'm standing in the doorway and she's halfway down the front porch when I stop her.

"Thank you," I blurt out, clenching the envelope tightly in my hands.

She turns to me and smiles, that same knowing twinkle in her eye. "Tell Savannah Happy Birthday for me."

I watch, stunned as she gets in her car and leaves. It's even darker now, and crickets aimlessly chirp into the night.

Breaking myself out of my trance, I quickly lock the front door and run inside. I dive for my phone when I spot it sitting idly on the coffee table. I quickly type out a text to Savannah, my hands shaking.

I stare at my phone anxiously, awaiting a response. My phone rings instead, her name and a selfie of us briefly flashing across my screen.

"I only have a few minutes," She rushes out when I answer. "Is everything okay?"

"You're not leaving," I choke out.

I hear a choked gasp on the other end, and then silence.

"You there?"

Her voice is shaky when she says, "I'm here."

I close my eyes. "I love you so much, Sav. I hope you know that. I'd do anything for you."

"I know," She says quietly. "I love you too."

I clear my throat. "We'll celebrate properly in two days. Now get back to work before you get fired," I tease.

Savannah laughs, and I swear it almost brings me to my knees.

When she hangs up, I check the time on my phone. Almost 9 P.M. I bite my lip, thinking. "Fuck it," I murmur, swiftly making up my mind.

I swiftly head towards the bathroom, pulling my hair down from its ponytail as I do. Within minutes, I have the shower running, and I take a deep breath as steam fills the room.

There's one other person I want to break the news to, and I want to do it in person.

——

The cab ride over is quiet. My fingers nervously fumble with the hem of my sweatshirt, the soft oversized material swallowing my frame whole and covering the denim shorts I'd pulled on after my shower. My hair is still semi-wet, slowly air drying as it hangs in loose waves over my shoulders.

I don't know why I'm nervous. My stomach flutters as I anticipate what Austin's reaction will be once I tell him the news. Never in my life have I felt like I'm going to burst if I don't see someone, but that's what life has felt like since Austin. He's slowly become my go-to. The person I want to share everything with and tell everything to.

The cab comes to a slow lurch in front of Vice, and I take a moment to admire how glamorous it looks from the outside at night. The fairy lights that are strung from each tree on the small strip of grass twinkle brightly, and it's something that I don't usually get to see since they come on after I'm already inside and starting my shift.

I hand a twenty to the driver, murmur a quiet "Thank you," and slowly exit the vehicle.

I hug my purse to my side as I walk past the long line of people waiting to get inside. My eyes catch the bouncer's up front, and he gives me a slight wave when he sees me slink around the side of the building to the employee entrance.

My skin bristles from the feeling of being watched. It's not lost on me that there are several security cameras watching my every move, and a small flip turns in my belly at the thought of Austin watching me, something that he hasn't shied away from doing in the past.

Vice is loud and humid when I step inside. The bass from the music thumps wildly against the walls and floor, loud chatter, laughter, and even whooping from the patrons who have had a few too many. I lock eyes with Kaia as I maneuver my way through the crowd of people and she smiles brightly. I bite down a laugh when she sends me a sly wink as I slowly traipse up the grand staircase to my right.

The music is slightly muffled as I sidestep the bar and VIP lounge and head down the hallway to Austin's office. I don't bother to knock and instead push open his door.

The look on his face as he leans back in his desk chair, his cell phone pressed to his ear, tells me that he knew I was coming. I reach behind me and lock his door. A small thrill runs through me when he simply raises an eyebrow in return.

I walk forward, my eyes scanning his relaxed frame. He lifts an arm, his black thermal long sleeve stretching taught across his bicep as he runs a hand through his dark hair, his jean-clad thighs spread apart as he leans back.

I drop my purse in one of the chairs in front of his desk as he mumbles something about distillery sales to whoever is on the other line. His dark, calculated gaze watches my every move as I slowly walk around his desk, my hand lightly trailing across the sleek glass tabletop. Austin pushes back even farther from the desk and spreads his thighs wider in a silent invitation.

Instead of accepting I press my hands behind me and lightly boost myself upwards, perching myself on top of his desk. My legs swing back and forth, our gazes locked in a silent conversation. I grin innocently. Austin smirks in warning.

"Yeah, I can forward you the email shortly," Austin says. "Alright, thanks. Bye."

He stands abruptly and tosses his phone on a stack of paperwork beside me. I raise an eyebrow as he steps forward and cages me in, his arms coming around on either side of my thighs.

"What are you up to?" He asks suspiciously.

I smile. "Nothing. Guess what?"

My pulse races when his hands slide up my thighs, his fingers teasingly pulling at the hem of my sweatshirt. He leans forward, placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth. "What?" he mumbles.

My hands trail up his forearms. "Angela came by earlier."

Austin freezes. His head darts back and his eyebrows furrow. "She's not going anywhere," I whisper, squeezing his arms. "They officially closed the case."

"Fuck," He murmurs, dropping his head. "You scared the shit outta me. Don't do that."

"If it was bad news don't you think I'd have a different reaction right about now?" I ask teasingly.

He raises his head and looks me in the eye. His arm comes up and he lightly squeezes the back of my neck, holding my gaze. "The only place she belongs is with you, ya hear me? I'm glad she realized that. You two deserve a fuckin' break after all of this."

I exhale shakily. "Thank you for being here for me throughout all of this. Thank you for being here for us."

"Always," He murmurs, leaning forward, his minty breath fanning across my lips. "I'm not going anywhere. I told you that, didn't I?"

I lean forward and he meets me halfway, my body relaxing into his as he claims my lips. Like all of Austin's kisses, this one is also soul-crushing and searing. I sigh into his mouth and bring my arms around his neck, the word "Closer," running through my head like a steady chant.

I hook an ankle around the back of his thigh to bring him closer and a low groan rips from his throat, vibrating against my mouth. Austin rips his mouth from mine, panting slightly. I tilt my head to the side, shivering as he trails a path of wet kisses down the side of my neck. My hands travel up the nape of his neck and my fingers intertwine in his hair, tightly grasping the strands as he sucks gently at my skin, nipping at my pulse point and then soothing the pleasurable ache with a swift lick and a kiss. My stomach churns as a throbbing ache starts to build between my thighs. I wiggle my hips anxiously, the need for friction and Austin's heated touch growing stronger.

"There's no one here to interrupt us this time," I murmur breathily.

His hand squeezes my thigh in warning. "There's a club full of people downstairs," He rumbles into my neck.

I lean back, dropping my arms from around his neck and grasp both of his hands in each of mine. Eyes locked, I bring his palms underneath my sweatshirt until they meet the button of my jean shorts.

Instead of answering him, I let go of his hands and whip my sweatshirt over my head in one quick motion and plop it beside me, not allowing myself to overthink it. God knows I've done enough of that to last me a lifetime. Right now and right here, in this moment, I'm taking control and going after what I want. And what I want is Austin.

Austin leans forward and nips at my mouth. His hands skate up my ribs, teasingly caressing the skin underneath the band of my black lace bra before dropping back to the silver button. I nearly whine in anticipation. His hands tug at my jeans, the motion jolting my body forward slightly. "You're gonna be the death of me," He rasps, finally undoing the button of my shorts.

Goosebumps break out against my skin when Austin places a wet kiss against my lips and bends, leaving a trail of them in his wake. One against the top of each breast, down my sternum, down my stomach. My skin heats as I watch him. I nearly fall over when he drops to his knees and yanks at my shorts, barely giving me enough time to lift my hips and help him out. I flush slightly when he does the same to my underwear, the flimsy lace material sliding down my legs.

Austin grasps both of my ankles and parts my thighs. I flush when he looks up at me, his blue eyes dark and hooded. He leans forward and kisses the side of my knee and I nudge him slightly. "This what you wanted?" He asks. I blush and nod, dazed.

"Tell me," He demands.

My eyes flutter closed. "Yes."

"Eyes on me," He rasps, squeezing my ankle.

I exhale breathily and do as he says, my eyes locked on his, a mixture of lust and awe swimming in his gaze.

"Come here," He mumbles, once again pulling me forward, this time nearly pulling me completely off of the desk. A squeak escapes my mouth and my hands reach out as I hastily grasp the edge of his desk on either side of my thighs.