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“He tries. I keep dodging him. Like tonight.”
Chase put his hand over hers on the doorknob. “He’s stalking you?”
The door opened and Hunt filled the entry. “Are you drunk, stoned, what?”
“Fuck you,” Chase snarled at Hunt, then focused on her again. “I want an answer.”
“He shows up places and attempts to talk to me, but I keep shutting him down.” She glared at Hunt. “But no one will stop him.”
Hunt hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “Kyle Hodges served his time, was released, and since then hasn’t broken any laws. He hasn’t even threatened you.”
“His existence is a threat to me. He sits in his car andwatches Eliza when her babysitter takes her to the park. He sits outside my home. Watching. Waiting. He follows me during the day and shows up whenever the hell he wants. He knew I was at Cooper’s tonight with Chase and waited for me to come out.”
Hunt eyed her. “Did he threaten you? Did he put his hands on you? Did he do anything besides say a few words to you?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “I can’t do anything unless he does something illegal.”
“Right. That’s exactly what the cops said to my grandparents when he was stalking my mother. And when he finally did do something, what good were the cops to her when he held her hostage for three days, torturing and raping her, and they assured my grandparents they were doing everything they could to find her? Too little, too late.”
Hunt’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry, but I have to follow the law. So far, he hasn’t met the threshold for a stalking charge to stick. You can certainly ask for a restraining order, but that means you’ve got to document everything so you can show the record to a judge.”
She fumed. “Do you really think someone like him is going to let a piece of paper stand in his way?”
“No. But it gives me a reason to arrest him.”
Frustrated beyond reason, she snapped, “Get out of my house.”
Hunt turned to Chase. “Do you need a lift home?”
“I’m stone cold sober, asshole. Did you get what you came for?”
Hunt tilted his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah, you do. Do you want a sample from me, or will you just test Eliza’s DNA against your own to see if there’s a familial match?”
Hunt narrowed his gaze. “Why do you have to make this so hard? Don’t you want to be sure?”
“I already am. But go ahead. Run the test. But be honest, Hunt. You’re not trying to protect me. You want that test to say she’s not mine because you know how much I love her and you want to take her away from me the way you think I took Mom from you. You just want to get back at me. So go ahead and try, but you won’t get your revenge through my daughter.”
Hunt actually looked hurt and offended. “That is not what this is about.”
“Keep telling yourself that while you try to break up a family. I’m the only dad Eliza knows. I’m the only dad she’s got. And while I’m working on being the best one I can be to her, you’re hell-bent on putting a wedge between me and Shelby. I get it. You don’t want me to be happy.”
“Not true,” Hunt shot back.
“You think I don’t deserve anything good in my life. I probably don’t after the shit I’ve done, but I’m trying to survive for that little girl. And her mom. So get the fuck out of her house. Go run your test. And stay the hell away from us.”
Hunt walked past her and down the steps, shaking his head at Chase as he passed him. “You’ve got this all wrong.”
“I think it makes you uncomfortable and sorry that I have it so right.” Chase took her hand and walked into the house, pulling her in after him. Then he closed the door with purpose, but didn’t slam it because Eliza was sleeping. “I’m sorry,” he said to her, raking his fingers through his hair.
She put her hand on his chest. “It’s okay.”
He covered her hand with his. “No, it’s not. None of this is. Hunt. Your father.”
“That monster is not my father,” she spat out. “I don’t have a father. Or a mother, thanks to him.” She sucked in a breath and tried to calm down. “Sorry.” She didn’t want to take out her anger and frustration on Chase.
He put his hand to her face. “You’re right. I spoke without thinking.”
She leaned in to his touch. “It’s just... a lot. Your brother. Him. Us.”
