Page 126 of The Rest is History

“Do you really think so, Sawyer?” I choke out. “That she would’ve been a bit like her daddy?”

“Yeah, I really think so, baby.”

“Thank you,” I sniff into his chest. “For letting me visit. For letting me stay. Thank you for everything.”

“You belong here now. Don’t ever forget that.”

The purr of a vehicle breaks the moment and I pull away quickly. What if it’s someone from school? Asher may appeal his termination. We don’t want to give anyone more to talk about and jeopardize his chances.

I step out Sawyer’s embrace and turn toward the sound of the approaching car.

It’s the sleekness of the vehicle that gets my guard up first. Sawyer is already walking across the stone walkway, on his way to greet the visitor. My eyes move, following the car as it rolls to a stop in front of our gate, and then, I’m moving. I grab hold of Sawyer’s arm, yanking him back.

He looks at me, stunned.

“Go inside, Sawyer,” I rasp.

He frowns and looks back at the car.

“Please,” I beg, my eyes darting back to the car. Shit. What the fuck is this?

Sawyer yanks his hand away. “Babe, what the fuck—?”

My father exits the car and the last eight months of my life retreat as if none of it happened and I’m back in Arizona, useless, not good enough. Always one step behind everyone else.

“My father,” I whisper.

Sawyer’s eyes widen. “Fuck.”

“I don’t know why he’s here. Or how he found me.” My eyes move to Sawyer, desperate. “Just . . . just keep Asher inside,” I say, moving toward the man now dusting his coat as if he’s a henchman coming to collect on behalf of his boss.

“Please, Sawyer. I don’t want to cause any more trouble.”

He turns to my father, who looks at him with the most awful disdain, then he turns back to me, bends his head and kisses me, and walks back to the house.

I rush down the walkway. “How did you find me?” I demand, feeling all kinds of awful that I’m not offering him a decent greeting. But I have to remember that I’m furious with this man who has tried so hard to ruin Asher’s life. Not once, but twice.

He throws his hands up in the air. “It wasn’t that hard, Reece. The internet and a few talkative townsfolk is all I needed.”

I come to a stop in front of him. “What do you want?”

He shakes his head, turning left and then right, inspecting the place. “Is this how you’re living? You sold your house to come live in the fucking forest?”

“This is home now,” I spit out.

His face is mocking and horrible, like always. “Home? Reece, this is fucking ridiculous.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I came to talk some sense into you. You’re my only child. I can’t sit around and watch you make a fool of yourself, firstly. And then act like some kind of lunatic. Exactly how does this whole fucking thing work, Reece? These two men are cheating on each other with you? It’s fucking wrong. That’s why I called the school district. It’s wrong and embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? How is this embarrassing?” I raise my voice to my father. Something I rarely do.

“I have only one fucking kid and this is what he’s become?”

It’s like the old days all over again. When I was a kid. Too small. Too stupid. Too clingy. Cries too much. I can’t stand it. “I’m happy, Dad. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“They’re using you. They’re using you for their sick fucking fantasies. Don’t you see that?”

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