Page 42 of Twisted Tate

“That’s right. Come on.” She gestures toward the living room. “Come sit with me. Let these boys pound their chests while we talk.”

I glance at Tate. He gives me a small nod, and I let Ivy lead me to the couch while he and Fox remain standing, sizing each other up.

“He’s protective,” Ivy says quietly, settling beside me. “Fox, I mean. It comes off aggressive, but it’s just how Sinclair men are wired. They see a threat to the family, and they want to neutralize it.”

“I’m not a threat.”

“I know that. You know that. But Fox needs to understand the situation before he can shift gears.” She tilts her head, studying me. “You look terrified, by the way.”

“I am terrified.” The admission surprises me.

“Of Fox?”

“Of all of it.” I press my hands flat against my thighs to stop them from shaking. “I’ve spent ten years keeping secrets. Pretending to be someone I’m not. And now I’m supposed to just . . . tell people? To let them see?”

“You don’t have to tell us anything.” Ivy’s voice is firm. “Whatever you share is your choice. But I want you to know that whatever it is, I’m not going to judge you for it.”

“You don’t even know what’s been done to me.”

“No. But I know about monster fathers. And I know a bit about yours.” Her jaw flexes. “And I know that whatever it is wasn’t your fault.”

I’ve told myself that a thousand times. It was never convincing when it came from inside my own head.

Hearing someone else say it is different.

“Tate told me about what my father tried to do to you.” I’m testing the waters with her. “I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t.” She clasps my hand and offers a kind smile. “And I’m fine and happily back with my hardheaded husband.”

Across the room, Fox’s voice rises. “—can’t just go dark for days and expect Dad to cover for you indefinitely. The Council is asking questions. Donaldson is playing the concerned father, and we both know that’s bullshit, but we need something to work with here.”

“Then give me time to—”

“We don’t have time, Tate. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

Tate’s response is too low for me to hear, but I see the tension in his shoulders. He’s holding back. For my sake, probably.

I stand up before I can talk myself out of it.

Both men turn to look at me. Tate’s expression shifts to concern while Fox’s remains neutral.

“My father is a monster.” My voice doesn’t shake. I’m proud of that. “All the awful things you wanted to kill him over. He did those things to me, his own daughter.”

Fox’s expression doesn’t change, but I see his hands curl into fists.

“The night Tate found me, he intercepted me before I would have met with another of my father’s clients.”

My throat closes up. I swallow hard and keep going.

“I didn’t know Tate was going to protect me. I didn’t know any of this would happen.” I look at Fox directly. “I know your father is supposed to be searching for me. I know my father wants me back. But I’m not going back. I’m done being his property. And I’m done being afraid.”

Silence.

Fox looks at Tate. Something passes between them—some kind of brotherly communication I can’t read.

“I know what he is.” Fox takes a step toward me, and I fight the urge to back away. “I know what he does. And I’ve been looking for a way to destroy him that doesn’t bring the whole fucking Council down on our heads.” His eyes bore into mine. “But I need to know—are you willing to go all the way with this? Because once we move against your father, there’s no going back.”

“I’ve never been able to go back.” I hold his gaze. “The only direction I have left is forward.”