“Because there’s nothing to say.”
“Funny. I think there’s plenty. Like how my daughter’s been living with a woman who has no legal right to her.”
My pulse roars in my ears. “You don’t either.”
Behind me, the hallway creaks, and I barely catch it—the faintest glint of motion as Aubrey peeks from her hiding spot near Silas’s room.
Our game. She remembers. I don’t turn my head. Don’t give her away.
“Leave,” I say quietly. “Before I call the police.”
“Police?” His smile twists. “You think I’m scared of that small town badge club you call a department?”
“I think you should be.”
He steps closer, hand resting on the doorframe. “I’m just trying to make sure she’s safe,” he says. “The world’s dangerous, miss. You never know what kind of people you’re bringing around a kid.”
“Like you?”
His eyes flash. “Watch it.”
I plant my hand on the edge of the door, the one barrier still between us. “You don’t get to talk about safety. You lost that privilege when you walked out on your first kid.”
He sighs, all mock patience. “You think you’re protecting her. But you’re not. You’re teaching her to hide. To be afraid. That’s on you.”
Every word hits where he wants, but I know his game. Men like him—men like my old boss—make others doubt themselves, make them feel small, and twist their fear into guilt until they can’t tell the difference.
But men like him don’t deserve to win.
“Get off my porch, Brian.”
He tilts his head. “Silas isn’t here, is he? Saw the team post online. Two-game road trip.”
My stomach drops. He’s been watching.
“How long have you been following us?”
He smiles again, soft and cruel. “Long enough to know that little girl really likes glitter.”
That’s what breaks me. Not the threat, not the manipulation—that. He shouldn’t know that. His voice seeps through the closed door as I drag the entryway table in front of it.
“You think this ends with you closing a door?”
I grab my phone with shaking hands. Thorn’s contact sits at the top of my recent calls. I hit it knowing Silas is probably on the ice.
He answers on the first ring. “Kates?”
“He’s here.”
“Lock yourself in a room. Now.”
I barely hear him over the pounding in my ears.
From the hall—another creak. Aubrey.
“Hide and seek,” I whisper, forcing air into my lungs. “Remember the rules, baby. Don’t come out until someone says the word.”
Her small voice trembles from down the hall. “Kate?”
