Brittany’s right. I have to talk to Carter. He’ll believe me when I tell him his boys are out to make my life hell. Right? Yes, definitely. He trusts me. He’ll believe me.

But I can’t shake the doubts. Why should he believe me? They’re his sons. He loves me, I know. But they’re everything to him. I know that, too.

I pick up the phone several times but can’t bring myself to call him. What’s wrong with me? I’m never like this. At least not anymore. Why am I suddenly scared again?

Because I have something to lose, I realize. I don’t want to lose Carter. I love him too much.

And wouldn’t it be better to talk about something like this face to face? I know it’s cowardly to put it off any longer, but it’ll let me spend a few more days under the illusion that everything is going to be fine.

I go to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge just as Carey comes in.

“Hey, Carey,” I say, hoping I don’t sound like an overexcited puppy.

“Get out of my way,” he says, barreling toward the fridge. When I don’t react fast enough for his liking, he shoves me.

I stare it him, stunned. Why on earth is he doing this? He actually put his hands on me.

“All right!” I say, trying to sound firm, but I’m not sure it’s working. My anger and nerves are making my voice shake. “That is it.”

“Shut up,” Carey snaps, retrieving bread and ham from the fridge. He proceeds to make himself a sandwich. Very calmly. Like he hasn’t just shaken up my whole world.

But I’m not the girl I used to be. After working at Free at Last, I know: just because they’re stronger doesn’t mean they can have anything they want from him.

“I’ve told you before,” I say, my voice shaking, “I don’t want you to talk to me like that.”

He looks at me like I’m scum. “Why are you still talking, you fat bitch?”

I open my mouth to retort, but at that moment, Hunter arrives in the kitchen, and his brown eyes impale me. Great. I’m outnumbered again. How can I ever win this match? And why am I even still playing the game?

Hunter doesn’t say a word, just gives me this look…this look that makes the grown woman I thought I’d become turn into a blubbering mess. All at once, I realize I’m scared. This situation is actually, seriously freaking me out.

Hunter crosses his arms over his chest, and I know he’s only seventeen, but physically speaking, he’s a man. His body has retained some of the lankiness of youth, but it’s increasingly filling out. Which only contributes to my panic.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” Carey mocks me.

I realize then that I’m trapped. Hunter’s standing in the doorway, and Carey’s blocking my way to the back door. Suddenly, I feel hot and cold at the same time. I pull at the collar of my T-shirt. I don’t know why, but it feels like I’m choking.

“Sure,” Carey laughs, “you can wrap an old fart around your little finger, but when—”

“Mac?” Hunter says suddenly.

He says it quietly, no longer menacing. In fact, he sounds almost like he cares. And that’s the moment that makes me crack. Literally. Tears burst from my eyes, and I claw at the fabric of my shirt until my knuckles are white.

“Is everything okay?” Carey asks now, taking a step closer.

I step back. I can’t take this closeness. I’m scared. I want to be far, far away.

“Don’t,” Hunter warns Carey, and Carey goes still.

Hunter steps aside—my chance to slip through the door.

I run up the stairs at breakneck speed and into the bedroom. Slamming the door shut, I let myself sink onto the edge of the bed. I’m alone. I’m alone. Thank God!

I’m still trapped in my memories. I don’t like to admit it, but if what just happened is any indication, it’s true. There are still situations that bring the memories flooding back up, making me feel helpless.

Triggers. There are so many triggers. I thought I’d left all that behind a long time ago. But I was wrong.

My heart starts beating more slowly again, and the tightness in my chest gradually dissolves until I can breathe easily.

Something’s got to give. Otherwise, I’m going to break down. I need to tell Carter. As soon as he gets back, I have to talk to him. He needs to talk to his boys, even if he’s worried they’ll run back to their mom—or whatever his reasoning is for not setting them healthy boundaries. Hunter’s almost a legal adult, but especially at his age, limits are important from parents.

Jesus, listen to me! When did I become such an arrogant know-it-all ? I sound as snobby as my first-grade teacher who insisted we call her “fräulein” because she had German ancestors and wouldn’t answer to anything else. God, when did I turn into Fräulein Müller?

Still, one thing is clear: I can’t go on like this. I can’t collapse into fear and panic whenever one of Carter’s sons gets anywhere near me.

Carter needs to do something. He will do something. Right?

* * *

The three of us avoid each other until Carter gets back. The boys go hang out with their friends or whatever—I don’t really know, because I work. And work. I’ve always been a bit of a workaholic since I can’t leave if there’s someone there who needs help. But these days, work’s turning into an obsession.

“Go home, Mac,” Shane says the day before Carter’s scheduled to come home.

I look at my watch. It’s almost eleven. “Oh, yeah. I lost track of time.” Slowly, I sort through the documents in front of me.

“What’s up?” Shane asks gently.

“What do you mean?” It’s always good to answer a question with another question, right? Sign of a quick wit, surely.

He smiles faintly and sits on the other side of my desk. Interlocking his fingers behind his head, he stretches out his legs. He looks laid-back, like he’s really comfortable. Here in my office. Here with me.

“Kid, I remember the day you walked in here for the first time. You were this timid little thing, but really angry! Incredibly angry. You stomped around here in your Chucks, not wanting anyone to tell you what to do.” He grins like he’s reveling in the memory. “You thought you started to heal when you found us. But you had this fire in you. You’ve always had it. Flames were shooting up ten feet in the air above your head. All we did was show you how to harness your power. You did all the rest yourself. Then and now.”

I sit back in my chair and stare at him.

“It was fun to watch you turn from an angry firecracker into the woman you are today. At least, the woman you were until about a week ago. Because the Mac I see today has lost her luster. It’s like you’re hiding it on purpose, like you’re standing in the shade because you’re afraid to step out into the sun.”

“I didn’t know you were such a poet, Shane,” I joke, because I don’t know what else to say. Obviously, he’s right.

He just grins. “Mock me all you want, kid. We both know something happened. You don’t have to tell me what it is. You don’t even have to acknowledge it yourself. But please make sure all your hard work was worth it.” He gets up and comes to my side of the desk to kiss me on the head. “Night, kiddo.”

I watch him go.

He’s right. I can’t let them control me like this. Not now, not ever again. I take a deep breath and hope my old strength, my old fire, will miraculously start burning again.

But when I get home, I’m happy the house is quiet. Because I’m still such a coward.

* * *

He’s coming back today. I’m counting down the hours, constantly checking my phone to see if he’s texted. But there’s nothing. Nothing at all.

So I fall back into my regular pattern: burying myself in work.

I talk to a few women who have been coming to our studio for a while now, and also a new one who just joined. Work always gives me a deep sense of satisfaction, but most especially when I can see the results of it all as clearly as I do in the last talk of the day.

When Tori first came to see me, she was all bruised, not an ounce of meat on her bones. She looked more like a beaten puppy than a grown woman. But now, she sits in my office, smiling, laughing, and looking healthy and utterly beautiful. She’s made it.

Her ex-husband is behind bars, and she’s started a new life. A new job, a new love. She’s the reason I’m here. She’s it.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Mac,” she says. “I wouldn’t be here without you, Shane, Jean, and the others.”

I can feel my cheeks going pink. “You would have made it on your own, too, Tori. We all know that. But we’re glad we got to be part of your journey. You get all the credit for what you’ve achieved.”

“Maybe I took my the steps myself, but my friends, family, and therapists gave me the strength to take them.”

After she leaves, I think about what she said. She’s right. I took the steps myself, too, but because Shane was there, I had the strength to take them. And with Carter there, I’ll get through the situation with the boys.

My phone dings with a text—Carter’s on his way home from the airport. His message isn’t exactly brimming with emotion, but then again, they never are. Still, I know he’ll be happy to see me again. So I gather my stuff and step out of the office.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Sheila calls. “You’re leaving early!” She laughs. I guess she’s noticed my recent obsession with overtime as well.

“Carter’s just getting back from a trip,” I say with a grin. After a few days of rain, I can finally smile again.

“Ah, time for a little fun.”

“Oh, yeah,” I shoot back, raising my eyebrows, which makes her smile.

“What’s going on here?” Jean asks in a mockingly strict voice.

“Mac’s getting some today,” Sheila says loudly.

“Sheila!” I hiss. It’s one thing to talk to her about this kind of thing. But putting it all out in the open? It makes my cheeks burn.

Jean, for his part, just shrugs. “Happy you’re having sex, shortie.”

Sheila laughs. “Oh my God, Jean! You can’t just say something like that! You sound like her stalker!”

That makes me laugh, too. Jean winks at me. The old fox. “Great, so we’re all happy,” I conclude.

“About what?” Shane asks from behind me, throwing his arm around my shoulder.

“About Mac having sex,” Jean says.

Shane looks at me. “Definitely raises morale of the group.”

I elbow him in the ribs—almost. He twists away too fast. Damn Marines!

“You’re too slow, kid,” he mocks me. “Try again.” He hops from foot to foot like a boxer, punching the air in front of him and looking mighty silly for such a big man. It makes me laugh so hard I have to squeeze my thighs together to keep from peeing myself.

“You’re all crazy people!” I say once I can speak again. “Nutjobs!”

“As long as we make you laugh,” Jean says, pulling his woman toward him. She snuggles up against his side. I love knowing that they can rely on each other. That they’ll get through whatever comes their way. That’s what I want. And I have it. With Carter.

Don’t I?

I say goodbye to everyone and head home to find out.

When I get there, Carter’s sitting on the couch with his sons and—

My eyes widen, threatening to pop out of my skull.

Sitting on the couch in this house, the house I just moved into, is Carter’s ex-wife. And she’s glaring at me.

When Carter sees me, he hops up, giving me a strained smile, and kisses me briefly. “Lauren, this is Mackenzie,” he says, guiding me to the couch he just vacated. I sit obediently, my knees shaking.

Lauren is still glaring. “Excuse me,” she says my way, “but this is family business.”

I’m already standing when Carter puts a hand on my arm and pushes me back down. “She’s staying, Lauren. She’s family to me.”

So much love courses through me then that I have to fight back an imbecilic smile.

Lauren gives me a look down her nose, and I suddenly know where her sons get that look. “Is your toy even legal to drink yet?” she snaps at Carter.

I’m not surprised she’s asking that question, because I can smell the booze on her breath and I remember the boys calling her a mean drunk. Meanwhile, Carey smiles, and Hunter’s face is stiff, locked in place, as usual.

“You’re in my house, Lauren,” Carter says. “Talking to my girlfriend. About something you want something from me. How about showing a little respect?”

“Are you talking about our house?” Lauren says. “The house we were happy in together?” She turns toward me. “Tell me, honey, are you happy here?”

“Stop it, Lauren,” Carter says quietly. He’s not the type to get loud. No, it’s when he his voices gets quiet that you know something’s wrong.

“Fine,” she says, throwing her hands in the air. “Let’s get back to it. They can’t stay here.”

I don’t know whether to feel relieved or suspicious that their mother wants them back. Either way, I’m happy for them, because it can’t have been easy to know their mother would sell them for a chunk of change from their dad.

“We’ve been there, Lauren,” Carter snarls. “I’ll pay out more alimony, and the two of them will move back here.”

“But they’re my babies,” she whines. “You and your little toy brainwashed them! They want to be with their mom like all kids do.”

“They want to live here,” Carter says, and I wonder if it’s a good idea to have this conversation in front of the boys. One look at their faces shows it’s not.

“Maybe it’s better if you two have this conversation on your own,” I suggest.

“You stay out of it!” Lauren hisses.

“Leave her alone, Lauren,” Carter grumbles.

She looks over at her sons. “You want to live with your mommy, don’t you?”

Not even Hunter, master of the poker face, can hide his discomfort. His warring emotions are clear in his face. He doesn’t want to hurt his mom, but he wants to do what’s best for him and his brother. Carey’s face shows his pain even more clearly. He hasn’t learned to hide his emotions yet.

“They want to live here,” Carter repeats firmly.

I’m glad he’s doing the talking, but his sons shouldn’t be here. Even if they’re almost adults, they shouldn’t see their parents fighting like this. I can see it in Lauren’s eyes—she won’t fight fair.

“Carey, you want to come back with mommy, don’t you, baby?” she asks in a wheedling voice like chalk screeching across a blackboard.

His face shows all his angst and pain so clearly, and he seems so vulnerable right now. God, I feel sorry for him. I grab the armrest of my end of the couch to stop myself from getting involved.

“Mom,” Carey says, his voice breaking.

She switches targets. “Hunter—honey—come home with me,” she begs.

Hunter closes his eyes. How can she do this to her own children?

“Lauren, stop it,” Carter interrupts. “I’m telling you they want to stay. That should be all you need to hear.”

“You’re trying to take my children away from me!” she lashes out.

“They want to live here. Here, where their friends are.”

“They have friends in Miami, too,” she says, putting her hand on Hunter’s leg. “Come home with me, baby.”

Seemingly working up all his courage, Hunter says, “Carey and I want to stay here in San Diego. With Dad.” His heart is breaking, I can see it. The usually overconfident young man is now just a little boy.

Lauren grimaces. “What?” She shakes her head. “You ungrateful little shits!” she screams. “I sacrificed my youth for you, and this is how you repay me? You want to stay with your dad, who ruined our lives? Who broke our family apart? You scumbags! You bastards! You’re just like him! I hate you!”