Ryan's Pov
Ryan pulled the car up to the curb outside a neat brick house with white shutters, killing the headlights before cutting the engine. He sat there a moment, hands gripping the steering wheel, rehearsing the conversation in his head.
He climbed out, boots crunching over the gravel path, and walked up the short porch steps. He knocked.
The door opened to reveal Wanda, Brooklyn's sister-in-law, arms crossed and expression sour. Her lip curled the moment she recognized him. "Well, if it isn't Ryan Hale." she said, sarcasm dripping like venom. "Didn't expect to see you here."
Ryan kept his tone level. "I need to speak with your parents."
"Yeah, of course you do." Wanda muttered, rolling her eyes as she turned and yelled into the house. "Mom! Dad! Guess who crawled out of whatever hole Brooklyn dug for herself... Ryan."
Ryan stepped inside without waiting for permission. The living room smelled faintly of pot roast, the television on low in the background. Winnie sat on the edge of the couch, clutching a tissue, her face weary from too much crying. Beside her, Charlie nursed a glass of whiskey, his eyes sharp with suspicion the moment Ryan entered.
Charlie stood slowly. "You've got some nerve showing your face here, boy." His voice was gravel, the kind that carried years of disappointment. "Your cousin has done nothing but drag this family's name through the mud."
Ryan didn't flinch. He'd expected nothing less. "I'm not here to argue about Brooklyn." He kept his voice flat, controlled. "I'm here because it's not safe for you here anymore. You need to pack up and come with me."
Winnie's eyes flashed, equal parts grief and anger. "Safe? Don't you dare stand there and talk about safety, not when it was your cousin who put us in danger to begin with."
Ryan exhaled through his nose, patience thinning. "With all due respect ma'am, I don't give a damn about your grudges or care if you hate Brooklyn. But you're all probably on someone's radar now and staying here is like painting a target on your backs."
Wanda snorted. "Oh, please. What's this, some action-movie speech? You think we're just gonna pick up and leave because you say so?"
Ryan's jaw flexed. He stepped closer, eyes cold and hard as stone. "Let me make this clear up. I'm not really here because I care about you nor to play peacemaker. The only reason I'm standing in this house is because of Olivia."
Ryan's voice softened. "So here's how this goes. Either you hand her over to me right now and I take her somewhere safe, or you all pack your bags and come along. But one way or another, I'm not leaving without her."
Charlie's grip tightened on the glass until it looked like it might shatter. He glared at Ryan, measuring the resolve in his words.
Winnie dabbed at her eyes, whispering, "We're not letting her go alone."
Ryan gave a curt nod. "Then you'd better start packing. You've got ten minutes."
Wanda muttered under her breath but disappeared down the hall, stomping in protest. Charlie drained the rest of his whiskey and set the glass down with a heavy thud. Winnie rose and began moving quickly, pulling out duffels, stuffing in clothes and essentials.
Ryan stepped outside and waited on the porch.
The house was a flurry of motion for the next fifteen minutes, voices raised, doors opening and slamming, the chaos of a reluctant family forced into action. Finally, the front door creaked open again.
"Uncle Ryan!" she cried, bolting forward.
Ryan crouched instinctively, arms opening wide. She slammed into him with the kind of hug that melted the cold steel around his heart. He wrapped her tight against his chest, pressing his chin into her hair.
"Hey, kiddo." he whispered, fighting the lump rising in his throat. "I missed you."
Olivia pulled back just enough to look up at him, her big eyes shimmering. "Will I see Mommy?"
Ryan swallowed hard, forcing steadiness into his voice. "Uh-soon..." he said softly. "I promise."
Behind them, Winnie and Charlie shuffled out with their bags, Wanda trailing behind with an exaggerated sigh. "This is insane." she muttered. "Running off like fugitives because Brooklyn can't go down peacefully."
Ryan ignored her. He scooped Olivia into his arms, settled her carefully in the back seat of the car and made sure her seatbelt was snug. Winnie slid in beside her, Charlie on the other side. Wanda took the passenger seat with a dramatic groan, muttering under her breath about how this was a mistake.
Ryan circled the hood, slid into the driver's seat, and started the engine. The low growl filled the silence, swallowing the last remnants of domestic safety this house once had. He glanced at Olivia in the rearview mirror. She smiled faintly at him, her stuffed rabbit held tight.
He put the car in gear and with a final glance at the quiet street, pulled away from the curb and drove into the night.