Page 138 of Selfie

“It’s me! Spencer. Open the door, girls. We’re safe. Everything is okay.”

The handle turns within a second, and I’m greeted by two tear-streaked little girls, red-faced, looking a word past terrified. I hold them both, one in each arm as I sink to my knees. It’s an awkward hug, but I refuse to let them go. I hold tightly like they are my lifeline.

“You guys did so good,” I whisper. “You did everything exactly right. We’re okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

“Is my dad okay?” Claire asks with a sniffle. She pulls away to meet my gaze.

“Claire,oh,sweetie. I’m sorry, he needs a lot of help. He’s going to be okay, but he’s going to have to go away again. He did a really bad thing just now.”

She wipes at her eyes with both palms. “You’re talking about Peter,” she says quietly.

“Yeah.”

“I meant my dad,” she says weakly, gripping her locket in her fist. “Is he here?”

My heart disintegrates like ash in the wind. It tears me apart, and I can’t hold back my sobbing. Charlie wraps her arms around me tightly to comfort me. I kiss the top of her head over and over again. How long has this little girl been hurting? Silently missing her mom and the man she still knows as dad.

She’s been in too much pain for far too long.

“Yeah, hon. Nathan’s on his way, I’m sure of it.” If Miller’s here, Nathan’s been alerted. “Your dad is coming.”

48

Nathan

Iarrive to fanfare in front of my home. There are so many police cars blocking my driveway, we had to park fifty yards down the way. Fuming, I leave my dad in the dust, making a beeline to my house, vowing never ever to leave my girls again.

Miller already told me they’re okay, and Peter is on his way to receive treatment where he’ll be handcuffed to a hospital bed before they drop him back in a cage where he belongs. He should be grateful. Prison protects him…from me.

I trudge forward, making plans. Security will be tripled. Spencer, Charlie, and Claire will have personal security details on them at all times. We’re installing a panic room and a panic button. Every inch of the property, inside and out, will have security cameras. I will hire armed guards to perch at every entrance to our home. Snipers on the roof, too.

In about a week when I’ve calmed down, I’ll think of more reasonable security measures, but as of right now, my girls are on lockdown.

“Are you Mr. Hatcher?” one of the policemen asks, falling in stride next to me.

“Yes. This is my residence.” I don’t slow my pace. If he wants to talk, he needs to keep up.

“We’ve already taken a statement from your wife and daughters, but we need one from you too, if you don’t mind.” I halt, turning my head to observe the squirrely cop. He looks a little new, probably more concerned with procedure than reading the room. He called Spencer my wife. Claire and Charlie, my daughters. That’ll be misrepresented on his report…

But I don’t correct him, because I like how it sounds.

“Anyone who stands between me and my family at the moment is going to see a very ugly side of me. So, all due respect, Officer, please come back later.”

I storm off, up the stairs, through the stoop and into my home. A small forensics team is working away. They’ve roped crime scene tape around the entry pillars to try to block off my kitchen. There’s a little blood splatter, probably from when Peter got shot. Spencer’s phone is shattered in pieces by the far wall.

Miller called me the second everyone was safe and gave me the rundown. Peter crashed his car through the main security outpost, deactivating the gate. He left his car and walked the half mile from my property entrance, to my home. Spencer opened the door and had a gun pointed at her head. Every time I picture her face, I nearly collapse. She must’ve been so scared. But my clever girl somehow managed to alert the authorities. Miller beat them to the house by minutes. From what I was told, Spencer kept him calm, kept him talking, and bought precious time until help could arrive. She saved their lives.

I wouldn’t have survived losing them.

She saved my life, too.

“Spencer?” I bellow out. I bet she’s in the bedroom. I make my way down the hall past all the strangers in my home who I wantout.

A door opens behind me with a small squeak. I look over my shoulder to see big, green eyes and long, bright red hair. It knocks the wind out of me. She looks so much like Elise, it stuns me into silence.

“Hey.” Tears dripping down her face, she forces a small smile. “I thought I heard you, Dad.” She scrunches her toes into the hardwood floor. “Can I call you that, still?” She sucks in a small breath.

It feels like I float to her.I blink.I’m on my knees.I blink again.She’s in my arms.One more time.I’m sobbing into her hair. “You call me what I am, princess.”

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