I sometimes wondered if people were born evil. If they were bred that way. If they had no chance of compassion. No chance of giving love or providing protection.

Or did life’s tragedies and disasters seed it, allowing it to grow and grow until it was twisted and vile?

I wondered it as I came to an abrupt stop at the opening of the hall that led to Evan’s room and found Dane Gentry standing in the middle of my living room.

Wearing one of his impeccable suits and hate in his eyes.

My heart climbed to my throat and my stomach sank to the floor.

Nothing but fear freezing my veins in shards of ice.

The instinct to protect Evan swelled inside me, and I pushed him farther behind me, my hand on his arm, trying to give him reassurance.

It did nothing to stop the quiver I felt shake through him, head to toe.

I couldn’t let this happen. Not again. I had to find a way to put this madness to an end.

“Get out of my house,” I warned.

Dane laughed a morbid sound and took a step forward. “Did you really think you could erase me so easily?”

My eyes went wide at the way he phrased it, my already pounding heart taking off at a sprint.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The defense trembled from my mouth. It might as well have been a confession of guilt.

A smirk ticked up at the corner of his mouth. Cruel and biting. “Always so innocent and pristine. Yet, she doesn’t hesitate to tell lies or commit felonies.”

An alarm sounded inside my head, so loudly I could hear it blaring in my ears.

There was no questioning it then. He definitely knew.

A shudder rocked my spine, and I gulped, lifting my chin and trying to pretend as if he didn’t intimidate me when I was shaking so bad I didn’t know how I managed to remain on my feet.

“This ends now, Harley. Get your things and get in my car.”

My head shook. “You’re insane,” I told him again. He had to be. Crazy. Crazy for coming here. Crazy to think I’d just jump and do his bidding.

“Come with me now or rot in prison, Harley. Your choice. It seems like a simple one to me.”

Or maybe I was the insane one. The one who had thought going down this road was smart. But at the time, it’d felt like the only way.

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” I maintained, but I knew it was a losing battle.

I knew there was no way to talk my way out of this with the way his eyes gleamed in victory.

Because he knew. Oh God, he really knew, and the true consequences of that were just sinking in when he took another oppressive step forward, coming closer and closer to my son.

My son who he wanted to reject. Do away with. Toss him aside like garbage.

Try again.

“I warned you that you’d regret it if you took this any further, Harley. And you’ve gone too far. Now get in my fucking car before I drag you there.”

Sickness roiled. I was overtaken by desperation. Every nerve and cell in my body flooded with the wild, violent need to protect my son.

I could feel Evan peeking out from behind me. His small frame shook with fear and confusion, his silent questions ricocheting from the floors as if he were shouting them into the air.

He doesn’t belong here, Mama.

This house is love.

My little man who thought it was his job to defend me when I would give my life defending him.

I took a step back, herding Evan with me. “Stay away from us or you’ll regret it.”

Incredulous, his eyes narrowed as he shook his head. “You think I’m going to regret it, Harley? You have it all wrong. You should have known better than to think you could play me. Now tell that kid to get in my car before I make him regret it, too.”

“I’ll die before I let you get anywhere near him.”

I meant it.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t the wrong thing to say.

Because rage lit on Dane’s face. A match to gasoline. Two quick steps forward, and he had me by the upper arms. As if I weighed absolutely nothing, he tossed me out of his way and went straight for my son.

Panic seized every inch of my body as I flew across the living room.

It was an awareness taking hold. A deep-seated knowledge that I’d pushed Dane over a line. The same way as he’d done to me a year before. When he’d left me without a choice. When there’d been nothing else I could do.

All I’d wanted was to stop the torment.

To give my son the chance to live the life he deserved to live.

And this man was again exerting his horrible, brutal control. This time . . . this time, he was doing it with the force of his hands.

I screamed out as an excruciating pain splintered through my left side when I crashed into the sofa table set up behind the couch.

Frames that showed off Evan’s innocent face fell to the floor. Glass shattering as it struck the wood.

Our best memories scattered across the floor.

I tumbled down on top of them. A wave of helplessness took me over. It was never supposed to be like this. I didn’t know how to stand up against it. Fight it.

But that helplessness was eradicated the second I saw the horror blanket my son’s face when Dane yanked him by the shirt. He started to drag him through the living room and toward the front door.

Evan’s eyes went wide. So wide with an overwhelming terror that I scrambled to find my footing, my words screeching from my raw throat. “Let him go! He’s just a little boy. Let him go!”

Dane didn’t slow, he just issued his command into the air. “You’re coming home with me now. Both of you. You no longer make the decisions. Do you understand me?”

Running after them, I grabbed at Dane’s arm and tried to break his hold. “Let him go. He’s just a little boy. I won’t let you hurt him. Not anymore. Not anymore.”

Dane spun around. With a single arm, he locked Evan’s back to his chest. He stood there as if my son was a pawn. A twisted ransom held between us.

Contempt dripped from his tongue. “What does it fucking matter, Harley? Why are you clinging to nothing? Nothing.”

How could he say that? This was a little boy who was made up of flesh and bones and the brightest spirit. Made up of the biggest heart that beat life through his veins. A boy who was everything.

Hopeless tears streaked down my face, my soul fragmenting as I watched Evan kick and flail, frantic as he clawed at Dane’s arm.

“Evan,” I whimpered.

His feet kept giving out from under him as he struggled to break free.

His weight held in the palm of Dane’s malicious hands.

Dane started backing through my house, his eye on me the entire time as he dragged Evan away. Expecting me to follow. This vile, horrible man using my child as bait.

“Dane . . . don’t do this.”

“You’re out of chances, Harley.”

“Why are you doing this?”

My steps were lurching as I moved toward them, and the words flooded from my mouth in a pour of desperation, “Dane . . . please . . . I’m begging you. Let him go. He doesn’t deserve your anger. Your hatred. He never has. You are free. We are no longer a burden to you. A worry for you. I don’t want anything from you except for you to let us go free. Just let him go and let us live our lives and you can live yours.”

At my words, Dane’s jaw clenched so hard I could hear his teeth cracking. “I will never be free. I will never be free of this.”

“What does that mean?” I begged.

For the beat of a second, I wished I could go back to a time when I’d thought I understood this man. When I’d thought our hopes and dreams had been one. Before he’d become this.

A monster.

“Please.” It ripped through the foyer. Breaking on my pain.

It didn’t even touch Dane’s rage. He jerked Evan through the door and out onto the porch.

Daylight was giving up its hold. It cast the world in shadows and mist and somehow set everything to slow motion.

A part of me felt detached. As if I were watching it happen from a distance. Removed from the reality that this man was really trying to take my son from me.

It had always been my greatest terror.

But I’d never known how great that terror could truly be until Evan started making these rasping, raking sounds.

Sounds I’d never heard him make.

His lungs brittle. As if my little boy was getting ready to crack.

Still kicking his feet, he stopped clawing at Dane’s arm and instead reached for me as if he were begging for a lifeline.

For me to save him.

To keep him safe the way I’d always promised him I would.

“Evan, it’s okay. Baby, it’s okay. I won’t let anything happen to you,” I rushed, meeting his eyes, promising him through that connection that I wouldn’t allow this to happen. That somehow, some way, I would stop this.

No matter what it cost me.

But Evan’s face . . .

It was turning a purpled, beet red. Unnatural. Wrong.

A different kind of panic set in. Stretching out my insides.

Dane spun away and started for the steps. I launched myself onto his back, clawing at his face, screaming in his ear. “You’re hurting him, Dane. Oh my God, you’re hurting him. Let him go.”

I was barely able to see through the haze that clouded my eyes.

This was where we’d come to a head.

Where we imploded.

Where this monster who held a thousand pounds of vile, ugly hate around his heart spiraled into a beast.

“You’re hurting him.”

I clawed and bit and kicked, but I knew I was no rival for Dane’s physical strength.

But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t fight with everything I had.

I yelped when I was suddenly jarred back, my arms I’d locked around Dane’s neck unloosed.

No.

But I was falling. Failing. I crashed onto the wooden planks of the porch.

“No!” The scream tore from my throat as I struggled to get back to my feet.

But it was relief that slammed me when I realized Evan had also been knocked free of Dane’s malicious grasp.

It was blinding, cutting relief when I realized it was Dane who was colliding with the ground one second after a fist collided with his face.

A stunned gasp ripped from my lungs.

Kale.

He was there.

Oh, God, he was really there.

Kale dove for him, pinning him down at the waist as he began to pound his fists into his face.

Over and over again.

Shouts and grunts and punches.

Knuckles against buckling flesh.

Dane kicked and grappled. But he was no match for Kale’s assault, and his wicked face quickly morphed into a river of blood.

Shocked, I watched wide-eyed and frozen as Kale beat Dane into an unconscious oblivion, my heart thundering so hard and my lungs rasping as I tried to process the scene.

It felt as if it took an age for my mind to catch up.

Kale had come back to me.

He was there.

Saving us.

I finally found a breath for my screaming lungs and managed to tear my attention away from Kale and Dane to look toward Evan. To give him a promise through my eyes.

That even though I’d never wanted him to witness anything like this—violence and bitterness and this savage, brutal war—I wanted him to know he would always be worth it.

My eyes found him where he’d been knocked to the lawn.

The second they did, my heart cracked in the center of me.

Evan was on his hands and knees. His expression was twisted in sheer, confused panic that had him seized.

Locked in pain.

It was one beat before his arms and legs gave.

My little boy fell to the ground.

Face down.

I screamed.

I screamed and screamed. But my screams were silent to my own ears. As if no matter how loud they were, no one would hear. No help to be found.

I crawled for him, half-rolling down the steps as I fought to get there. Everything was weighted, spindly tendrils reaching out from the depths of a nightmare to hold me back.

Because it felt as if I were slithering through quicksand.

Sinking.

Farther and farther away from him with each savage moment that passed.

It was a slowed motion I couldn’t breach.

My entire body shivered when I reached for him and flipped him over.

He rolled, completely limp.

I couldn’t stop shaking . . . shaking and shaking and shaking . . . when my hand fumbled out to press over his chest.

My heart. My heart.

This time, I heard it.

My scream.

The agony that tore out of me when I could no longer feel the beat of his little life.

My sun and my moon.

I couldn’t see.

Couldn’t hear.

And I swore, right then, all the stars fell from the sky.

“No,” I raked over a sob, my hand pressing harder. Frantically searching. “No. No, no, no. Evan, no. You aren’t going to leave me. I won’t let you. No. Please.”

A cry scraped from my throat when I was suddenly being torn away from where I clung to Evan, hands I’d missed so desperately squeezing me hard for the flash of a second.

Before he’d taken my place.

Kale.

Quickly, the man moved to kneel over my son. He tilted his ear to Evan’s mouth then pressed his fingers to his neck.

For the beat of a second, horror struck on his face.

It was the exact same horror I’d seen him wear in my kitchen.

It was the kind of horror that destroyed worlds.

Despairing and desolate.

He started pumping Evan’s chest.

My mouth dropped open in another scream.

A plea.

A prayer.

I didn’t know.

No. No. No.

Kale’s face broke into my vision.

His lips were moving, shouting, but I couldn’t hear.

My son, my son, my son.

“Hope. Hope! Call 9-1-1.”

Finally, the sound cracked against my ears, penetrating the horrifying daze, snapping me out of my stupor and into action.

I scrambled onto my hands and knees, slipping on the grass before I managed to get to my feet. Clinging to the railing, I fumbled up the steps and raced inside. It felt as if it took a lifetime to get to my room where my phone was charging on the nightstand.

A lifetime flashing.

A tiny infant in my arms.

“I’m sorry, but your son will require a heart transplant. It’s the only chance he has.”

M-A-M-A, he signed for the first time.

His grin. His smile. His belief.

Love. Love. Love.

Grief fisted me by the throat, and I ripped the phone from the cord and rushed back out, trying to see through the torment as I forced myself to remain steady enough to dial the three numbers.

I was already back outside and dropping to my knees beside where Kale was hunched over Evan when the operator answered.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Help, my son. He’s collapsed. He’s a heart transplant recipient. Please . . . hurry.”

I rattled off my address, begging the whole time.

“Ma’am . . . try to stay calm. Can you tell me if he’s breathing? Does he have any other visible injuries?”

“No. Just . . . please . . . hurry.”

“We have an ambulance in route. Please stay on the line with me.”

Kale worked over Evan in a controlled desperation.

Hopefully.

Fiercely.

Grimly.

As if he could pump his own life into my son’s body.

While I sat there, helplessly clutching my chest, trying to keep everything from spilling out.

Chills raked down my spine when I felt the shadow looming over us.

It was the evilest kind of darkness.

The man who stared down with animosity and a twisted sort of disbelief where Evan lay on the ground. To where Kale tried to save my son’s life.

Then the monster bolted down the walkway and to his car.

His engine roared, and he sped away.

Gone.

The way I wanted him to be.

The sound of sirens whirred in the distance, growing louder and louder as they approached. Red and white lights flickered and flashed through the growing darkness in front of my house as a firetruck and ambulance arrived.

Paramedics swarmed around us, but Kale refused to budge from Evan. He shouted that he was a doctor, making orders, never pausing chest compressions.

Evan’s shirt was cut up the middle and a mask was placed over his mouth and nose.

I cringed when an IV was placed in his veins. I hated it for him, how terrified my son was of that specific thing. His fear of needles. The way I’d always wanted to take away all of his pain.

But I’d never, ever been prepared for this.

In a scramble of activity, a defibrillator was set on the ground.

My entire body froze in grief when they set the paddles on his chest and a huge shock jolted his tiny body.

I was certain the entire earth held its breath as we waited for the line on the monitor to blip to life.

But there was nothing.

They administered another.

I could feel all the pieces I’d been trying to hold together fall away when Evan was shocked again and there was still no response. In horror, I watched as Kale went back to compressions as Evan was strapped to a backboard and placed on a gurney.

Kale never stopped his efforts when they moved Evan.

He climbed onto the gurney and straddled my son.

Pumping.

Refusing to give up.

And I prayed. I prayed, and I prayed, and I prayed.

Promising I would never give up hope.