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‘I’ve thought about them a lot.’ She shifted in the passenger seat. ‘Even when I told myself I hated you and you were an asshole, it was hard to convince myself you were the villain in my story when your parents were the nicest, kindest people I’ve ever met.’

TJ didn’t agree. ‘I think you’re proof that children can turn out different from their upbringings.’

‘I suppose that’s true,’ Skye replied. But she couldn’t quite sit still. She was too full – with love and excitement and, oddly, peace. She looked out her window over the farm as they drove down the long drive.

Bandit clearly knew where they were too. The dog paced on the back seat of the truck, eager to be out. His loud whine was impatient and excited. His tail wagged a million times a minute, beating a quick tempo against the seat.

Skye laughed and told the dog, ‘Relax.’

She was so distracted by him that it took a few seconds for TJ’s, ‘I guess my parents have guests,’ to register.

She looked over at him, noticed his frown, and followed his gaze.

Everything slowed.

Except the panic. That came swiftly. Ruthlessly. The world continued in slow motion around her. The sound of her heart racing resounded in her head. Her breaths were fast but strained, rasping, as she struggled to draw in enough air.

TJ slammed on the brakes. ‘Skye?’

When she couldn’t reply, could only suck in the next panicked breath, he took her face in both hands. ‘Hey. Hey, look at me.’

She managed to focus on his face, on those green eyes so full of confusion and fear.

‘Breathe,’ he demanded. ‘Come on, baby, in and out.’ He took his own big inhale, encouraging her to do the same.

Skye gulped down a huge breath.

‘Good girl. Another one.’

She gripped TJ’s wrists as he held her face. She breathed deeply, fighting the panic attack one inhale at a time. But when the worst of it had passed, when she had enough air in her lungs to speak, she only had to say one word for the panic to come back in full force: ‘Holden.’

TJ’s hands jerked reflexively against her face. Slowly, he redirected his gaze down the drive. Because there, sitting on the front porch with Ryan and Janey, were her parents.

TJ let her go. ‘Stay in the truck.’

His voice was deep and dangerous. His movements as he opened his door were slow and controlled, like a big cat stalking prey. In her fear of what he might do, Skye tried to grab him. ‘TJ—’

But he was already gone.

Skye collapsed back against the seat and closed her eyes. More than the panic and despair, the shame threatened to drag her under just then. She had imagined this moment so many times. She had played it over and over in her head. She’d imagined being fierce, maybe even reckless. She’d imagined standing up to her father, taunting him even. But now that he was here, sitting and making casual conversation with TJ’s parents, she couldn’t find the courage to even get out of the truck.

She was unprepared.

So, she didn’t do anything, just sat and hid as TJ moved up the driveway slowly, his limp barely noticeable as he homed in on her parents.

Skye couldn’t even look up for long enough to see if her mom was okay. She just sat in the passenger seat of the truck, wallowing in her own sick fear.

There was a fire in TJ that could not be extinguished. As he walked that last distance up his own goddamn drive, he promised that Holden would never put that look on Skye’s face again. Christ, just remembering the way she’d gone bone-white, the way she’d struggled to draw in even a single breath, had him meeting Holden’s eyes and saying, ‘You’re not welcome here.’

His own mom, sitting next to Skye’s, gasped sharply, her shock apparent. ‘TJ!’

Holden, dressed impeccably in tan chinos, a button-down and boat shoes, looked like everything he wasn’t: a perfect gentleman. Even his eyes, the dark blue of calm seas, and his hair, a distinguished salt and pepper grey, made him look like an actor from some commercial that boasted sunny picnics and happy families. His voice was filled with perfectly intonated remorse when he said, ‘No. No that’s all right, Janey. As I said, my daughter and I have a tumultuous past.’

TJ didn’t buy the bullshit, but he understood, instantly and without doubt, why nobody had ever helped Skye when she’d been a child. This wasn’t some obnoxious drunk in a run-down neighbourhood, disrupting the neighbours with his domestic disputes. This was a sociopath of the highest order – a man with wealth and privilege and education on his side.

‘I don’t know if routinely abusing your daughter would constitute a tumultuous past,’ TJ said tightly.

Holden sighed like he carried the weight of the world. ‘My daughter told you that?’ He reached for his wife’s hand. As if he needed her support. As if he needed to draw strength from her.