For once, dear God, let me get through a meal without my mother all over me about something.

Dinners with Mom and Dad were always an emotional rollercoaster. Mom, bless her heart, grated on my nerves at times like no other, and Dad was just . . . awesome. Mom hadn’t taken my news about the New York trip well, which I was sure would get top billing tonight.

My parents led the brigade of my security circle, and that created a strange paradox for me. I could be nervous and have my issues about my life and what I dealt with, but mom couldn’t. Unfair of me? No question, but it was the sad truth. Hopefully, Dad wasn’t too far off. He was the only one capable of reining in the ever-protective Violet Durare.

I found the soft bubbling of the chicken and potatoes in the oven oddly soothing. I washed the vegetables for salad, and sautéed asparagus I’d bought before arriving. Mom was a diabetic with a wicked sweet tooth, so I tried to make her eat clean when I visited.

The hair on my nape raised and a chill ran down my spine—so much for soothing. Although I’d become hyper aware about being watched, when it came to Mom, she did it like a sniper zeroed in.

“Just say it.” I separated the lettuce and cleaned the leaves without turning to her. Mom was much easier to deal with when I wasn’t looking at her. That way I wasn’t the insensitive daughter when she got nostalgic, which she pretty much always did.

“Valentina Antoinette Durare, honestly.”

Anytime the full name came out—bad deal. The clank of silverware on the glass table rattled through my skull.

“You live in gym clothes. Please tell me you at least put normal clothes on when you go shopping. Did you go to the store in those clothes? How are you ever going to meet someone dressed like—like a gym rat?”

Putting the lettuce on the counter, I glanced over at her before starting to scrub the bell peppers. “I was working. I work in these clothes. Give it a rest tonight, okay?”

“There is no rest from your mother. If I don’t say my piece, I haven’t done my job.”

I dropped both hands with the peppers into the sink and pivoted toward her. “Oh, you do your job very well, and I appreciate your opinion, I do. But could you at least try to remember I’m about to turn forty next month.”

“Don’t be sarcastic, Valentina. Of course, I know your birthday. Forty-nine hours of hard labor, my love. And before you start that smart mouth, it was worth every second.” She winked at me and went back to setting the table.

If that was the most I got, tonight was a win. I moved the fixings to the counter and began making the salad when it all went to hell.

“Do tell me this,” she began.

Instantly, I cringed.

“If Annie isn’t going with you to New York, who is? You can’t go by yourself when you’re up on a stage in front of hundreds of strangers.”

The thud of the knife hitting the cutting board brought her up beside me. I put both hands over the edge of counter, sure I was about to crack the Formica. “Mom . . . ”

“Well, it’s not smart, and you’re a highly intelligent woman. I know this, because you get that from me, so who’s going with you?”

“Nobody, Mother. I’m going to go to New York, for work, all by myself, like the adult that I am, like millions of people do every day.” I knew her fear. I shared it. The difference was I was done letting it own me. I had to get over this phobia to move on with my life, but Mom wasn’t there yet.

With a huff, she walked away from me and pulled out a chair to sit. “What about Chris and Kyle? Many hotels accommodate animals. You should at least have them there with you.”

I turned back to the salad. “They’re too big. The airlines would make them fly in the hold, and I won’t do that to them. And thank you.” I turned to face her. “Thank you for not having this conversation in front of anyone else, so it’s only me who can’t wrap her head around the fact that my own mother thinks I’m still fourteen and can’t be out alone.”

As soon as the words were out, I wished I could take them back. Fourteen was the age we didn’t bring up.

All the color drained from her face and she jerked back up to stand, but not before I caught the tears in her eyes. “That is not funny, Valentina, and it’s cruel.”

The past reared its horrifying head and I felt like shit, because I’d said the magic number. “I didn’t mean it, Mom. I just pulled fourteen out of my ass, but come on. I am an adult. I’ll be fine.” I really hoped I sounded more confident than I felt.

“Trucker mouth,” she snapped. “Well, if you were dating someone, this wouldn’t be an issue now would it?”

Oh, dear God. Her other favorite topic. All right. Peace offering, since I’d fucked up. “If it makes you feel any better, I am talking to someone—but we’re just talking, Mom.”

The scrape of the kitchen chair against the floor let me know she was once again sitting and staring at me. “And why am I just hearing about this now? Who is he? Where did you meet him—and please tell me you weren’t wearing those heinous gym clothes when you met him.”

An evil grin pushed at the corners of my mouth. “I met him at the gym, and he looks pretty damn hot in gym clothes.”

The slap of a towel against the table grabbed my attention. I looked over at her just as she rolled her eyes in a way that confirmed Mom should have been an actress instead of a professor.

“Of course he is. Another gym rat. Perfect! I suppose he has tattoos and a Harley.”

“Who’s another gym rat with tats and a Harley?” Dad asked as he came into the kitchen and kissed me on the head. “You’re looking a little skinny there, kid. Eat a hamburger or something, huh?”

How I loved this man. I nodded and popped a pepper into my mouth as he slapped my hip.

He chuckled. “Fuckin’ smart ass.”

“Salvatore, really?! With the mouth?” Mom stood up and waved the towel in my direction. “Your daughter’s new boyfriend. Did you know she’s going to New York by herself? Please talk some sense into her. You seem to be the only parent she listens to. And you.” She pointed at me. “Why can’t the new boyfriend go? Problem solved and I don’t worry.”

My shoulders slumped before I could catch it, but Mom had a way of exhausting me like nobody else. “I love how I become Dad’s daughter when I’ve done something you don’t approve of. First, I don’t need Jaxx to go with me. I—”

“Jaxx? What kind of name is Jaxx?”

“It’s Jaxxon, actually, and you interrupted me—”

Mom’s brow furrowed. “With an X?” she asked.

I’d have laughed if I wasn’t so pissed. “Double X, actually. Anyway, as I was saying, I don’t need a bodyguard or an escort. Second, it’s too soon to call him my boyfriend. We’re getting to know each other. That’s it.”

Dad joined me at the counter and picked one of the avocados out of the salad with his hands. “Good girl. Maybe you’ll finally listen to your old man. You want someone who loves you more than you love them. He who loves the least holds the power.”

Grunting, I slapped at him.

“Nice.” Mom moved between us. “Yes. Let’s do that, shall we? Please, Sal, go on imparting your archaic wisdom upon our daughter. But just to be clear, are you insinuating that I love you more than you love me?”

Poor Dad. I giggled as he grabbed my mom and pulled her into a giant bear hug. Dad did give the best hugs—well, until Jaxx . . .

“Of course not, Vi. I wasn’t talking about us. I was just looking out for our little girl.”

Dad’s turn. I spun toward him, hands in the air. “Dad. Forty! Next month. You’re not helping here.” I motioned to Mom with a hand and dropped it in defeat against my leg.

He winked at me with a smirk. “You’ll be my little girl when you’re a hundred.” Letting go of Mom, he took his seat at the table. “Oh, and Mr. New Boyfriend hurts you, I’ll blow his kneecaps off to start. You know, as a warm up.”

I snickered, shaking my head at him. “Have you been watching Scarface without me again? I love you, Dad, but that won’t be necessary. I think you just might like him.”

“I hate everyone.”

For the first time since I hit the door I genuinely laughed. Everyone loved my father. He was a people person. Correction, everyone but Rick loved my father . . . “Big liar. Every—”

My sentence was cut off when all three of our phones blared at the same time. I glanced down at mine and my stomach knotted.

Amber Alert.

Damn it straight to hell. Just when things were starting to even out.

“Oh, God,” Mom gasped. “Those poor parents.” Her eyes immediately filled with tears.

Dad looked at me, giving me the “let me handle this” hand signal.

Nothing made my heart lurch more than Amber Alerts. Blood rushed through my system as if I’d just ran five miles at a sprint. Amber Alerts to me were like a bat signal for the potential death of innocence. They upset Mom too, but in a different way. I got angry because I always wished I could help in some way, even though I knew that wasn’t a rational thought. Predators, monsters, were a global epidemic. But Mom, she came at it like a mother—a mother who knew exactly what those parents were going through.

I moved to her side and put my arm around her under Dad’s. “Mom . . . that’s why these alerts are in place. They have a good chance at finding the child now.”

She pushed away from my dad and turned to me, tears streaming down her cheeks as she grabbed me and hugged me to her. “They don’t always find them, though, do they?” She held me out at arm’s length, her hands trembling as she squeezed me. “You were lucky. We were lucky! You don’t know what it’s like to think you’ll never see your baby, your only child ever again.”

Lucky? I was lucky? Every muscle in my body recoiled, and I fought to stay still.

I reached up, removed her hands from my arms, and kissed the top of her left one before moving back to the counter.

Funny word, “lucky.” I didn’t take my second chance for granted. I wasn’t ungrateful in that way, so in that context, yes, for some reason I was blessed to have survived.

But there was another context Mom would never comprehend, and it was mine alone. My mutilation wasn’t just physical—and lucky me, the memories of it were now coming back like there’d been a renovation somewhere inside my brain after twenty-five goddamn years. I flipped through the salad leaves, and could not summon the energy to throw everything into the bowl.

When Dad’s arm came around my shoulders for a quick squeeze, it should have comforted me. It always had. Not today. Today, my skin crawled, which was so unfair to him I hated myself for the reaction. I didn’t want to be touched right now, at least by them. And I know that made me a fucked up and disgusting human being.

I checked my watch, walked to the stove, and got my emotions in check. When the mask was firmly in place, I turned back to them, smiling. “Shoot. I’m out of sports tape for my knee. I’m so sorry you guys, but I have to hit sporting goods store on the way home. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.” I brisk walked into the living room, throwing my bag and purse over my shoulder with my parents on my heels.

Don’t you choke! They’re entitled to their pain, just as you are. Don’t make it worse on them. Get the hell out of here!

Dad stood in the doorway of the kitchen, glaring at Mom. “Damn it, Vi . . . ”

My mom looked between Dad and me. “Honey, I’m sorry. Don’t go. Please stay.”

I hugged my mom hard. I didn’t know what it was like from her side, and I did hurt for her. We may have butted heads from time to time, but I never doubted my mother’s love, no matter how coddling and overprotective it came across—she’d have died for me, and I knew that with everything in me. They both would. Which is why I couldn’t stand myself right now.

I squeezed her one last time and kissed her cheek. “Really, Mom. I have to get the tape. You know I train with Kovov tomorrow and he’s all over me these days.”

She nodded and stepped back, clearly disappointed.

When I hugged Dad, I whispered to him, “You know how she gets. Don’t be hard on her. And I really did forget the tape.”

He bear hugged me and kissed my forehead. “I know, angel. Go. I’ll finish for your mom. Text us when you get home. I’m your damn father. You can text me, and not roll your damn eyes. Live with it.”

“I will. I love you both.”

“We love you,” they said in unison.

I smiled, hoping it was good enough to pass as genuine, and got the hell out of there as calm and quick as I could. I started the car, and without letting it warm up for a second, threw it in drive. The stop lights up ahead became fuzzy red, yellow, and green mixtures of color.

No. I wouldn’t know what it was like to think I’d never see my child again, because that gift had been brutally taken from me. I was broken that way.

Jaxxon’s face flashed in front of me and tears, goddamned tears, sprang to my eyes. That beautiful man with all his warmth, caring, and humor. What the fuck was I doing with him? Pretending . . . pretending I could be normal, because he made me believe I could be. He deserved someone who didn’t have secrets—secrets he could never find out about.

I was deluding myself and yet, the one person I wanted in that moment was him.

I wanted to crawl into his huge, impenetrable arms where nothing could hurt me. I wanted the kind of hug that lasted twenty minutes with no expectations. I wanted him to hold me just because I needed it, because I needed safe. And I knew in the deepest part of me that if I called him and asked, he’d be there.

But then there would be questions—questions I couldn’t answer. I knew that without any doubt, which is why I’d go home, crawl into bed with Chris and Kyle, turn off my phone, and deal with my shit alone. Because in the end, that’s how I’d dealt with everything—alone.

Yeah, I was definitely lucky.