“I’m not going over there,” I whisper, trying to reassure her. But there’s no way I can promise I won’t do anything. Because I already know that would be a lie. I grab her hand. “It’s okay, baby. We’re leaving.” Glancing back, my eyes connect with my father’s. He’s about to walk in our direction until he reads the expression on our faces and stops in his tracks. I can only pray that somehow it’s a coincidence he’s here with them. I don’t need any additional reasons to hate that motherfucker.
I forgo returningto the hotel and head straight for my mother’s home. Char needs her as much as I do right now. Making a few calls via my hands-free dash, I ask the hotel manager if they can pack and return our things. There’s no way I’m letting go of Char’s hand.
As I continue to drive, the radio off to avoid any song lyrics that could trigger her in any way, I repeatedly kiss her knuckles until the stress of the day has cloaked her in enough fatigue to lull her to sleep. Once I’m sure she’s out, I carefully place her hand in her lap and reach for my phone.
“Max,” I say, voice low, steady, and deadly calm. “You still got contacts?”
“What do you need?”
“I need someone taken care of.” I swiftly backtrack, being careful not to say anything across the phone line that could come back tohaunt either of us. “Not what you’re thinking. But I need some assurance they’ll never be able to hurt anyone ever again.”
There’s a pause. Then the quiet clatter of keystrokes across the line. “Contact me once you’re in front of your computer.” He’s referring to the encrypted chat room he created on the dark web we used previously. “I’ll see what we can do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAR
I don’t remember fallingasleep. Only the way Dave’s arms stayed around me once we arrived at his mother’s home. Tight, steady, like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go.
The nightmares came anyway. The old ones. The ones I thought I’d buried. His voice, the threats, the sound of my own pulse roaring in my ears.
I startle into consciousness covered in a sheen of sweat. Dave’s already awake, hands cradling my face, thumbs brushing tears I didn’t even realize were there. “Hey, hey, you’re safe,” he whispers, voice rough with sleep. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
I curl into him, breathing in the warmth of his chest, the faint scent of soap and citrus and the safety that’s justhim.
“I hate that he still gets in my head,” I whisper.
“He doesn’t get to stay there,” Dave says softly. “He doesn’t get to ownanypart of you anymore.” His words sink in like sunlight through frost.
“I hope I didn’t wake your mom.”
He chuckles quietly. “Yeah, you’d have better luck waking the dead with the medication they have her on.”
A shaky laugh escapes me, breaking the tension. He presses a kiss to my forehead, then another to my hair. “Get some rest,” he murmurs. “I’m right here.”
And I believe him. For the first time in forever, I actually believe it. The threat isn’t over. Far from it. But at least I’m not running on my own.
Morning light filtersthrough the curtains. The space beside me is empty. My chest tightens before I hear movement from the kitchen. The sound of coffee brewing and soft music playing.
I sit up, still tangled in the blanket. Something feels off. He’s quieter when he returns with a mug, his jaw set a little too tight. “Everything okay?” I ask.
He hesitates just long enough for my stomach to drop. “Yeah. I needed to make a few calls.”
Calls.The word echoes, setting my nerves on edge. I don’t ask. I can’t. Because I already know, somewhere deep down, that whatever he’s done, it’s for me. And I’m better off not knowing.
That afternoon,while he’s in the shower, I gather the few items he ordered for me online when we had to arrange to have our things picked up from the hotel. Jeans. A new top. Pajamas. Toothbrush. Another of his Princeton sweatshirts I never want to part with. Placing it in an overnight bag we’re borrowing from his mom, I reach for Addison’s dress and shoes when the TV catches my attention. A breaking news banner scrolls across the bottom of the screen:
MILLIONAIRE MOGUL ARRESTED ON MULTIPLE CHARGES OF FRAUD, EXTORTION, AND ASSAULT.
My stepfather’s picture flashes across the screen, and my knees give out.
By the time Dave walks back into the room, towel slung low on his hips, I can barely breathe.
“Char?”
I turn, shaking. “Did you?—?”
He meets my gaze without flinching. “No one willever hurt you again.”
