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“Baby.” Marcus’s hand slides from my cheek and into my hair. “The next time you’ll see Rylan is either from behind bars or in a supervised space of a mental hospital. It won’t be here. I love my daughter and I love you. That’s the best solution. Promise me that for the sake of both of you, you will not leave the closet today.”
An icy shiver clogs my throat. Choking me.
Marcus needs me to nod, and I do.
He might also need me to save him.
And when he does, I have no doubt I’ll be there for him. I’ll do anything for this man.
There’s only one Marcus in this world. This one sick, sweet, and unhinged man is everything I’ve ever wanted. Everything I’ll ever want.
I refuse to pass another second on this planet without him.
Whether he likes it or not, I’ll be here, ready to fight. Ready to make sure nothing and no one takes him away from me.
Never.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Marcus
Ablack Chevy SUV speeds down the road and into the driveway of Leighton’s and my glass home.
The windows are tinted.
Sand blows around the tires as the brakes screech, covering them momentarily in light brown dust.
Rylan’s here.
After she sent me a photo of Dr. Hatchett’s bleeding yet alive body being carried away on a gurney, I timed how long it would take her to show up. Leighton refused to eat, but I forced her to before hiding her as well as I could.
Since then, I’ve been here. On the porch. Anticipating the worst. This long overdue face-to-face with Rylan.
I unfold myself from the wooden chair I set out.
I love her. I’m angry and disappointed with her and myself just the same.
My stern expression is fixed tightly on my face. My arms are crossed over my chest. I am not fucking around.
She has to realize that.
My daughter jumps out of the driver’s seat.
The mass of her black hair lies tangled around her shoulders. Her gait is slow and calculating, her lips curved into a smile.
Dark crimson blotches taint her pink T-shirt and her short cutoffs. The parts of them I see, anyway. On top of her clothes, Rylan wears the trench coat I bought her for her fifteenth birthday. She won’t get rid of it, despite how tattered it is.
It worked for her today. The garment is huge with lots of pockets. Her knife must be hidden in one of them.
Mine’s in the back pocket of my jeans. I could’ve taken out either of the two guns I have in the safe in the closet. Didn’t care for it. I still believe Rylan and I can talk it out. I talk to strangers regularly. I should be able to talk to my goddamn daughter.
The knife was to pacify Leighton. I hope to God she was wrong and I won’t have to use it.
“Dad!” Rylan grins wide, her madness evident in the wild glint in her blue eyes.
“Rylan.”
She talked to Leighton like trash. She murdered my ex-girlfriends. Cut up my therapist. She’s keen on killing anything with a pussy who comes within a ten-mile radius from me.
