“I’m worried about the emphasis you put onI.”
“Yeah, my sisters are special,” he grumbles as the house comes into view.
A fancy little blue sports car sits in the driveway with a man resting on the hood, while Seraphina, Autumn, and even Willow each hold a bat with varying shades of menace pouring off of them. Lark and Saffron rock in the chairs on the porch, huddled under a blanket.
“That car won’t last a season out here,” Arlo mutters as we park, drawing everyone’s attention. “Who is that?”
“No idea.” I squint, but all it does is make my head swim. This is not the time to have a concussion, but here we are, and there isn’t a darn thing we can do about it except move on.
As one, we push out of the car, and I flip my sunglasses down because it’s bright out here, blindingly bright.
“Wren!” The strange man hops up, and in two strides, he walks over to me. “There you are, sweetheart, I was so worried about you.”
Autumn, not missing a beat, almost thwacks him with her bat, but it does the job, and he halts his movements. Through my glasses, I try to look at the guy, but he’s a little blurry, the lines of his face blending together to form a blob.
Darn Matchbox Mustang. I pat my good luck car in my pocket.
All I can make out of the guy is that he’s not dressed for New Hampshire weather, wearing black slacks, a button-down, and a loose tie—definitely not traveling attire. I’m still braless, because I couldn’t figure out the hooks in my concussed state, in a pair of sweats, a long-sleeved shirt, and my coat.
“Who are you?” I rub my forehead as everything aches behind my eyes.
I might not be able to make out all of his features, but his expression sinks. Arlo comes up behind me, resting a comforting palm against my lower back. I snuggle into his warmth and safety.
“She doesn’t know who you are, so leave.” Autumn applies a little pressure. She must know what she’s doing, because she knicks the fabric. It tears open, and she gives him a satisfied smile.
“You ripped my shirt,” the stranger growls at her.
“You are lucky that’s all I did,” she retorts.
“Wren, are you going to let her talk to me like that?” The guy turns to me, and oh, look, I can see his face turning red. He’s an angry elf.
“Yes, I don’t know who you are.”
Then he says the words that form a pit in my stomach. “How can you say that when we made Lark?”
My heart thumps and lodges itself in my throat. All I can do is squeak for a moment as I cling to Arlo for support.
This cannot be happening. “Why are you here, Christian?”
“Why am I here?” He takes a step back, throwing his hands in the air. It’s dramatic, if you ask me. “Why am I here?” he repeats, and I see Saffron rush Lark inside just as Willow and Seraphina move around to the side. “I’m here because you moved our child hundreds of miles away from me.”
Is this guy serious? “You bounced the moment that line turned pink!” I screech at him.
“Don’t tell lies about me, baby girl.” His voice turns into that Southern charm, and I know he’s about to put a show on for everyone. Even as a teen, he manipulated everyone and everything until he got what he wanted. I can only hope that they see right through his façade. “You can’t leave the state of Georgia with our daughter.”
I laugh, because that is literally all I can do at this point. Tears form in the corners of my eyes, and I just can’t stop. “That might be true, Christian, but you are forgetting one minor detail.”
“What’s that, suga?” And that voice right there is how he got my sixteen-year-old self into bed with him.
“You aren’t on her birth certificate.” Arlo squeezes me tighter just as my muscles tense and coil. “You have no custody.”
I didn’t follow Christian over the years, not after graduation. It was always just Eric and me against the world, especially when Robin moved and Gram passed away.
“Excuse me,” he says incredulously. “You can’t steal my right to my child. You shouldn’t have even been able to move.” He shakes his head, and a sliver of worry spreads through me. “Did you get my messages?”
“You were the one sending her creepy texts?” Arlo speaks up.
“Who are you?” Christian flings out his hand, scoffing at Arlo.
