Page 58 of Tainted Tempos

But if it’s not my dad, then who?

Confusion twists the man’s expression. He holds up his palms in a surrender position.

I hold my breath.

“Maverick Tate.”

Confusion rolls through my stomach.

I frown, replaying his response.

Maverick Tate.

“What?” There’s no way I heard him correctly.

He licks his lips nervously. “Maverick Tate. Mav.”

“My husband?”

He nods.

I shake my head. It doesn’t make sense. Mav, my husband, sent the man who has been watching over me while I feared for my fucking life? And he never thought to tell me?

My confusion spikes into anger. Into…betrayal.

How could he not tell me? Hell, how could he notaskme if I wanted a security guard? If that’s something I’d be comfortable with.

Mav, my husband, who agreed that we need honest communication to make our marriage work, hired a fucking bodyguard and didn’t share it with me.

“I can’t believe him,” I spit, recalling the past few days that I felt on edge, doubting my instincts, questioning my goddamn sanity. All along, it was Mav!

The man’s eyes widen.

Then, everything goes black again.

This time, I relish it.

SIXTEEN

MAV

“You better get here now.”Greg’s voice is low and deadly.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Panic races through my veins. I fist my brother’s hoodie and point toward his truck. “It’s Mckenna.”

Whatever Jameson reads in my expression is enough for him to change course. We jog back to his truck. “What happened?” I bark at Greg. “Did he hurt her?”

“Jesus!” Greg mutters. “She had a fucking panic attack. She fell and hit her head, got about fifteen stitches in the back. She’s in the hospital. I’ll text you the details.”

“You’re with her?” Confusion laces my tone as I jump into Jameson’s truck.

He’s navigating it onto the main street before I think to buckle my seat belt.

“I brought her here,” Greg explains after a long pause. “Mav, she thought I was fucking stalking her.”

I feel the color drain from my face as I bang my head back against the headrest and close my eyes. Mckenna must have been petrified. Fuck. I made it worse; I put her through hell. In trying to keep her safe, I terrorized her.

“She knows,” Greg continues. “I had to tell her. Her heartbeat, the beeping on the goddamn machine...” He trails off, agitated.

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