Page 123 of Sold to Her Enemy

“Let’s drop by instead.”

“Good idea.”

My head swims with all the lies that my parents, our parents, have spun for us over the last two years.

But it crystallizes the one thing I’ve ever known: Mckenna Moran is mine, and once I go get her, she’ll never be away from me again.

26 MCKENNA

When the rooster woke me this morning, I took my time drinking coffee. I thought of calling Adrian but couldn’t press send.

I can’t shake off his parting words, his determination to see my father lie in destruction when his family has made millions off of my father’s brain.

I’m washing my breakfast dishes when there’s a knock at the door.

“Coming!” Thinking it might be Grace’s oldest son wanting to know if I can muck for him because he has baseball practice, I fling open the door.

“Roger, I’m happy to muck...” The words dry in my throat. “Daddy?”

My mind can’t take in the fact that my father is standing in front of me. He has a slight tan, the wind is ruffling his salt and pepper hair, and his blue eyes are misty behind his glasses.

I throw myself at him. Hugging him so hard, we both nearly topple to the ground.

“My sweet girl. I am so sorry.”

“Daddy, you’re here!” Sobs stick in my throat.

“There, there,” my dad pats my back, and I tug on his arm and bring him inside.

“I know, Mckenna. I’m here. I’m so sorry. We have a lot to tell you.”

“We?” I squeak out the word, and looking behind him, I see my mother standing on the porch. She’s wearing a light pink pantsuit and her pearl necklace, and she has make-up on for the first time in months.

“Mother?”

“Hi, Mckenna.”

“You’re not sick?”

My mom looks at my dad, who tips his head, gesturing outside.

I can’t let go of my father. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, my love. I’m so sorry.” My dad cups my face and leads me to the swing at the end of the porch.

“What is it?”

My mom darts a nervous glance at my father. He throws his arm around her and gives me a look.

“We want you to know how immensely proud we are of you. We’re really sorry for putting you through hell.”

“You didn’t. Adrian came in like a sledgehammer and knocked down everything you and Mr. McIntyre built up. He didn’t listen. He jumped to conclusions.”

“Mckenna, that’s not what happened.” My mother frowns.

“I was at that board meeting, Mom. It’s exactly what happened.”

“Adrian has never been one to mull things over.” Dad squeezes my hand. “It’s a good quality. Adrian’s ability to make decisions quickly and spring to action is something I’ve always admired about him.”

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