Coop:
I’m already outside.
Somewhere in the distance, the doorbell rang.
Chapter
Twenty-One
COOP
Ihadn’t planned to come in hot, that was the problem. I’d told myself the whole drive over that I’d be calm. That I’d knock, take a breath, keep my hands loose at my sides instead of clenched into fists like I was walking into a fight. I’d even rehearsed what I was going to say if Archie answered the door instead of Frankie.
I’m here to check on her. I’m not here to cause shit. I just need to see her face and know she’s okay.
All reasonable.
All lies.
Because the second Archie’s gates slid shut behind me and I parked the borrowed car in a space that still didn’t feel like mine, something in my chest went tight and sharp. Like every mile I’d driven had wound me up instead of calming me down.
Borrowed car. Borrowed time. Borrowed grace.
Archie hadn’t told anyone about it. Not Jake. Not Bubba. Not even Frankie. He’d just handed me the keys and said,“Use it to work. Get yourself steady. That’s it.”No lectures. No pity. No scoreboard.
Which somehow made the guilt worse.
I cut the engine and sat there for a second, forehead resting against the steering wheel.
Own your actions, my dad’s voice echoed in my head. Not angry. Not accusing. Just… firm. Like he was trying to give me something instead of take it away.
Funny how it took my life imploding for him to finally show up like that. I got out of the car and headed for the front door. The bell echoed louder than I expected.
Almost immediately, I heard raised voices inside—muffled, sharp. A woman’s voice I knew too well, even through walls. Sharon. No—Mrs. Curtis. Frankie’s mom.
Fuck, she does sound like Sharon and now there’s a comparison I can’t fucking unsee in my head.
A man’s calmer tone I didn’t recognize at first but had to be Edward Standish followed Maddy Curtis.
Archie’s house had to be the most luxuriously appointed war zone ever. The door opened a few seconds after I rang the bell. Jeremy stood there, immaculate as always. Chaos had no place in his universe unless he allowed it.
“Mr. Cooper,” he said evenly. “You’re expected.”
That alone made my stomach drop.
“Is Frankie—” I started.
“She’s upstairs,” Jeremy replied smoothly. “She’s safe.”
Relief hit hard enough that my knees actually felt weak.
“Thank you,” I said, meaning about twelve things at once.
Jeremy stepped aside to let me in. “If you’ll follow me.”
I took two steps in and stopped dead.
Because Archie was standing at the far end of the hall, shoulders squared, jaw tight, phone in one hand like he’d just finished—or paused—some kind of battle.
