“Rynna,” I whispered, arm going out to gather her up. To steady her. To let her know it didn’t matter this fucking bitch was standing at my door.
Panic surged through me when she dodged my touch and lurched forward, grabbing her purse from where she’d set it on the floor the night before, and then bolted out my door.
Janel stumbled out of her way as Rynna blew by.
No fucking way was I letting this happen.
I darted after her. “Rynna. Stop. Don’t leave. Don’t...fuck, don’t leave.”
Don’t leave.
She didn’t seem to be able to focus when she looked back at me. She kept moving, stumbling down the steps of my front porch and clinging to the railing with one hand and Milo with the other, her eyes glazed over with confusion.
With horror.
With disbelief.
Like she was running from her own ghosts.
“Rynna,” I begged it again, desperate where I stood at the edge of my porch. Right where I’d confessed to her all my secrets last night.
“Please . . . just . . . don’t,” she pleaded. Her eyes flashed to Janel for a beat before she had a hand up to stop me. Frantic, she swallowed. “I have to . . . I have to get out of here.”
“Rynna.”
With a sharp, erratic shake of her head, she turned, fumbling as she shot forward.
Every part of me wanted to chase after her. Last thing I wanted was to be standing there, helpless, watching her flee across the road and disappear inside her house.
But I had an issue I needed to manage.
Hands clenched, I slowly turned to look at where Janel stood at the far end of the porch. She was twisting her fingers, throat wobbling, just as sure as her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to just show up—”
My head cocked, words nothing but fiery darts that cut her off. “You’re sorry?” I took a menacing step forward. “Three fucking years, and you’re sorry?”
“Rex...I...I can explain.”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”
My heart dropped to the fucking floor when Frankie was suddenly there in the doorway, tiny fists rubbing at her sleepy eyes. “Daddy? Who’s is here?”
“Baby,” Janel suddenly said. She lunged forward, going right for her.
Anger.
Disgust.
Disbelief.
They roiled.
I reached out and gripped her by the upper arm, probably harder than I should have. “Don’t you dare.”
She looked at me as if she couldn’t believe I would stop her. As if she had any right. I pushed her behind me and dropped to my knees in front of my daughter. Almost frantic, I brushed back that unruly disaster of hair from her face while I felt everything inside me bust apart. “Need you to do Daddy a big, huge favor.”
She grinned, and I fucking cringed when she glanced over my shoulder.
And I fucking saw it.
