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“It was hardly a pummeling, but I appreciate the dramatic rendition.”

“I can’t believe you.” She started pacing again, circling around him as Reed stood stock-still and dropped his arms at his sides. “Your training is rooted in defense, not criminal outbursts.”

“I was defending Halley. That bastard wrecked her.”

“He wasn’t being a threat. Your actions were barbaric and unprovoked.”

“His existence provoked me.” Reed held his ground, eyes narrowing. “As long as he’s alive, he’ll be a threat. And if he ever comes within breathing distance of my girls, he’s a dead man.”

Whitney slowed to a stop, stiffening, her eyes lifting with a curious flash. “Your girls?”

My heart was ping-ponging between my ribs, my stomach in ropes.

The silver lining in this was that my father hadn’t pressed charges.

With his criminal record—and having just been released from prison on good behavior, much to everyone’s shock and disgust—it was in his best interest to let it go.

I was grateful for that.

But with whatever Reed said next, our worlds still had the potential to be rocked off their axis.

I held my breath, squeezing the railing until my knuckles bleached white.

He lowered his chin, breathing out through his nose. “Yeah.”

That was all he said.

No clarification, no expansion, no context.

Whitney was a smart woman, and I was petrified she was going to see right through the red tape, then strangle us both with it.

What is he thinking?

I wanted to slap him.

I wanted to hug him tight and never let him go.

Fight draining, Whitney pointed at the front door with one hand and pinched the bridge of her nose with the other. “You should go,” she said. “Go cool down. We can discuss this later.”

“There’s nothing more to discuss.”

She glared at him. “I beg to differ.”

My stomach rumbled with anxiety as Reed’s muscles tightened and he opened his mouth to reply. But he didn’t. No words were set free, and all he did was spin around and head to the front of the house.

Reed stormed out, the door slamming behind him and rattling the windows. Tara and I both flinched as Ladybug bounded up the staircase, shimmying herself into my lap, escaping the hostility crackling in the air one floor below us.

I watched as Whitney deflated in the middle of the living room, dropping her eyes to the floor with a shaky exhale.

“I told you,” Tara whispered to me, stroking her hand up and down my spine.

I turned to look at her, my eyes puddled with tears, as Ladybug nosed my ribs for comfort. “What?”

She smiled through a sigh and pulled me close. “I told you he loved you like his own.”

CHAPTER 21

Tara was making out with Josh beside me on the couch in her baby-blue ballgown, while Josh’s friend, Nolan, fidgeted to my left. He was quiet and smelled like suntan lotion and fish sticks, but I attempted conversation through the slippery sucking sounds on my opposite side. “Are you excited for the dance?” I asked him.

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