After parking my car next to three men taking a breather from my mom’s demanding aura, I curl out of my car. I feel like I’m dreaming. My mind is hazy, and my steps are sluggish. This can’t be happening. Not now.

You’d think my first response to seeing my mother would be excitement. It isn’t. It is angered confusion. What is she doing here? And why is she moving our belongings out of our house instead of returning the ones she wrongly left with?

I count to ten while rounding the back of the truck half-loaded with the possessions I've stockpiled the past nine months. My long drive must be wreaking havoc with my composure, causing me to hallucinate—what else would instigate such weird delusions?

My mind isn’t playing tricks on me. The back of the truck is laden with my favorite belongings. There is even a handful of items I purchased for my dad. His disease requires familiarity, so as much as I wanted to rid his bedroom of the disaster my mom’s brush with interior design caused their room, I couldn’t. The hideous fur rug and mismatched floral cushions had to stay, much to my dismay.

The workers have barely sucked down their hand-rolled cigarettes when my mother claps her hands together, demanding they return to work. She commands them with the same pompous attitude she used on our house staff in the years leading to her disappearance.

She is the captain. They are her soldiers.

“Who do you think you are? You have no right to waltz in here after three years and act like you own the place,” I snarl, taking the stairs of my family home like I’m Rocky Balboa climbing the stone steps at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

The anger in my voice shocks me. I always anticipated being grateful upon discovering my mother is alive, but all I feel is anger. I went to hell and back when she left, and now, just as all the pieces are falling into place, she returns like a bat out of hell, ruffling more feathers than settling them.

No! I won’t let her ruin this for me. I won’t let her ruin this for us.

“Does Dad know you’re here. . .?” I stop talking when bewilderment bamboozles me. “Does he even know who you are anymore?”

My mom takes in a sharp breath as a mask of shock and anger slips over her face. Her response replicates mine to a T. I’m equally pissed and traumatized.

With her mouth gaped, she stares at me like I am a mirage. I don’t know where she thinks I’ve been. Unlike her, I belong here. This is my home.

“Savannah. . .” she whispers in a breathy moan, half-startled, half-stern. “You’re home early. We weren’t anticipating your return until tomorrow.”

“We?” I ask, clearly confused. “There is no we, Mom. There is us. Me and dad. Not you.”

The confusion on her face is pushed aside for sternness. “Oh.” Her eyes reveal she wants to say more than she just did. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” she eventually settles on, her words not matching the deep groove between her blonde brows.

“Where’s Willis? Dad needs familiarity. He’s been with him for nearly a year.” I skirt past her to enter the foyer of my home. “Willis?!”

I’m left windless for the second time in thirty seconds when my eyes absorb the shell I used to call home. Everything has been stripped. It is even emptier now than it was when I sold every possession we owned the week after Justine’s party. I wanted out of my agreement with Axel, so I did everything in my power to get out.

If only it had been enough. Axel had me over a barrel, and he knew it.

Not recognizing a single face, I charge for the curved stairwell I’ve slid down more times than I’ve climbed.

“Dad!” I shout, my frantic stomps matching the thumps of my heart. “Daddy!”

I hear my mom shout my name, but my strides remain strong. Even with the half a dozen men removing childhood memories from my home making a ruckus, my dad heard my shout.

“Ruth?” he calls back, his voice echoing out of his room at the end of the hall.

Tears drop onto my white cheeks as I increase my strides. His voice—thank god. I was afraid my mother’s return would coincide with me never hearing it again. I was petrified he was gone.

“Daddy,” I choke out via a sob when I enter his room.

He is standing at the foot of his bed, his face as tormented as ever. “What’s happening, Ruth? I don’t understand.” His words sound as exhausted as I feel.

The last six months have been tough on us both, but with Willis agreeing to be his fulltime caregiver, the transition wasn’t as daunting as expected. My father may not remember my name, but he has never forgotten my face. That means we’ve racked up a lot of Skype minutes since I left for Cornell six months ago.

The moisture slipping down my cheeks is absorbed by my dad’s shirt when he tugs me under his broad arm to comfort me against his chest. The wild beat of his heart causes more tears to topple from my eyes. He is as scared as me, but acting brave not to startle me.

This is definitely the man I know and love.

“I don’t know what is happening,” I admit, my voice showcasing my bewilderment. “But I’ll find out. I promise you, I’ll find out.”

My pledge has barely left my mouth when my dad stiffens. His fingers dig into my arm when he spins me around, sheltering me from the person I hear scuffling across the hardwood floor with his body. My tears flow more freely. Even with his mind destroyed by a horrible disease, it can’t stop his protective nature. It is as naturally engrained in him as it is in Ryan.

“Thorn,” whispers a tormented voice, one I would have given anything to hear years ago, but will give anything to silence now. “You know me. You just don’t remember.”

My spine straightens, expecting my father to react negatively to my mother’s remark. Displacement issues are my dad’s biggest trigger, but being told he can’t remember is a very close second. He can handle prompts, but if you straight up tell him he can’t do something, you’re set for trouble.

My stomach continues receiving blow after blow. My dad doesn’t react as I am expecting. He doesn’t scream, yell, or even clench his fists. He doesn’t do a single thing. This is as abnormal to me as seeing my parents in the same room.

My mom smiles, pleased by his lack of aggression. “Every rose has its thorn. Just like every thorn needs a rose. I’m your Rose, Thorn.”

The wind is knocked from my lungs, shocked by the sweetness of her voice. It is brimming with love and admiration, a stark contrast to the one she used when placing the blame for her extramarital ways on my dad’s shoulders years ago. She wanted the world but couldn’t understand that he had to work relentlessly to give it to her. She used his absence as an excuse, failing to see that if she weren’t so greedy, he wouldn’t have worked sunup to sundown.

“I still remember the first time you said that . . .” She sighs as if recalling fond memories. “. . .and the millions of times that followed.”

I shake my head while pulling away from Dad’s grasp. The extra beat his heart gained during her disclosure reveals a truth I don’t want to face. He is remembering her—the woman who betrayed him time and time again.

I lift my eyes to an equally unique pair. “You can’t believe her, Dad. You don’t know what she did. How she hurt you.”

My lungs hunt for air when he stares at me, somewhat confused. I grab his hand and run it down my cheek like he always does. “It’s your Ruth. You can trust Ruth.”

I stare into his eyes, allowing mine to speak the words my mouth will never be able to say. Nothing’s changed. I couldn’t tell him years ago about her deceit, and I can’t today either. I will not break his heart for anyone’s benefit, not even mine.

I inhale my first breath in what feels like minutes when my dad briefly nods his head. “There’s my Ruth,” he mutters as his thumb traces the indent in my cheek.

“Yes. Here I am,” I reply, nuzzling into his hand.

Hating that the torment in his eyes grows from spotting the moisture brimming in mine, I aid him into his bed. My mom’s breaths are so ragged, I hear every inhalation. She isn’t gasping for air because she is surprised by our closeness—there isn’t a father/daughter bond in the world that can compare to the one I have with my dad—she is just shocked seeing the man she once loved stare at her as if she is a stranger.

I can imagine her pain. I pray every day for that day to never arrive. The day my dad forgets who I am will be my most painful day. I wouldn’t wish that pain on anyone. Not even the woman who broke his heart.

“Savann—”

“No,” I interrupt my mom, my tone stern like I am the parent in our dynamic. “Not in here. You have no claim to anything or anyone in this room.”

Pretending I can’t see my dad’s confusion growing from my mom calling me my real name, I smile at him before asking, “Orange juice?”

His eyes light up like a Christmas tree. “Please.” His love for his favorite drink is all over his face.

“I’ll be right back.”

I press a kiss to the edge of his mouth before spinning on my heels and making a beeline for the door. I don’t glance over my shoulder to ensure my mom is following me. The deep sigh she releases before saying goodbye to my dad tells me everything I need to know.

She isn’t here for him. She’s not even here for me. That only leaves one thing on her list: money.

Once I am halfway down the hall, I spin around to face my mom. Her lips twitch like she is preparing to speak, but I beat her to the task. “What do you want? If you are here for money, I hate to tell you we have even less now than we did when you left us the first time—”

“I’m not here for money, Savannah,” she interrupts, shocking me with the sincerity in her voice.

I was so sure she was here for money, I didn’t prepare another defense. “Then why are you here? Why now?”

When she steps closer to me, I hold my hands out in front of my body, demanding she stop. I’m not falling for her tricks again. If she wants to continue her lies, she can do it while looking me in the eyes.

She stares up at the ceiling for several seconds before lowering her eyes to mine. They are glistening with tears, but nowhere near the number in mine. “I’m not who you think I am. I didn’t leave because I don’t love your father. I love him, more than you’ll ever know—”

“Yet, you still cheated on him. Again and again,” I argue, unwilling to go down without a fight this time.

I’m not the naïve teenager she battled during our last confrontation about her adulterous ways. I am a grown woman who won’t tolerate her belittling my father any more than she already has.

When my mother shakes her head, denying my claims, I scream, “I saw you!”

“You saw a woman doing anything to claw herself out of hell,” she fights back, yelling.

“Did you see him? Did you look into his eyes and see the man on the inside pleading to be set free?” I ask, pointing to my father’s room. “You saved yourself from hell by sending him in your place!”

My mom steps closer to me, her face as haunted as mine, her lips as hard-set. “If I didn’t leave when I did, you would have lost us both, Savannah. What would you prefer, one parent suffer or both?”

I glare at her like she is insane. She can’t honestly believe she is the victim in all of this. My father lives in a nightmare. Can you imagine waking up every day and not recognizing the people surrounding you? If that isn’t bad enough, your body doesn’t understand the prompts your brain is relaying, and over time, even remembering how to sip orange juice is above your means. My father is suffering enough for the both of them. Things can’t be any worse.

I’m dragged from my somber thoughts when my mother mutters, “What happened to your father wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate. I’m just glad I got out when I did.” She peers at Dad’s door without a bit of remorse on her face, too revolted to comprehend empathy.

My mother is saved from witnessing the lengths I’ll go to protect the ones I love when a deep voice at my side pipes up. “What your mom is saying is true, Savannah. It may not be what you want to hear, but it is honest.”

“What. . .why. . .?”

Now I have even more sympathy for my father’s condition. I can hear the words I’m trying to articulate in my head, but seeing a man I never expected to see standing in my hall has me swallowing my words.

“Axel, what are you doing here?” I ask, my voice brimming with suspicion.

Did I fall asleep during my commute? Nothing about this evening is making any sense.

I shoo away Axel’s hand when he tries to brush a tear off my cheek. “Don’t touch me,” I snarl, my bewilderment not strong enough to leash my anger. “You’re not allowed within five hundred feet of me. If you don’t leave this instant, I will have you arrested.”

My head slings to the side when an accented voice assures, “That won’t be necessary.”

A balding man with shoulders as wide as my height flashes his FBI badge. I don’t need to see his identification to know who he is. The day he asked me to pass on a message to Regina will stick with me forever, because the love he projected will be seared on my heart for eternity. Furthermore, if he hadn’t requested for Regina to step down from her investigation, I doubt Ryan would have left the interrogation room at Ravenshoe PD without cuffs on his wrists. Tobias saved our hides that day, so I’ll never forget him.

“Does Regina know you are here?” My words convey my shock.

Before their run-in nine months ago, Regina hadn’t seen Tobias in nearly three years. That’s why she reacted as she did when I passed on her message. Even knowing seeing him again would add to her anguish, she hated the missed opportunity.

Tobias finalizes the last four steps before shaking his head. “This is out of Regina’s jurisdiction.”

I stare at him with shock on my face. We may be on the outskirts of Ravenshoe, but my home is located within Regina’s purview. She doesn’t have the official title, but she will always be the head of law enforcement in my eyes.

“When Regina discovers you’re responsible for breaking the restraining order she instigated, you’re going to be in trouble.”

Smiling a grin that reveals he is looking forward to his penance, Tobias gathers my hands in his then guides me to a wooden bench built into the curve of the stairwell. It is a smooth move on his behalf. This is a favorite spot of mine. It is where I spend my days reading during summer, so it instantly appeases my hostility.

Tobias is smarter than I first perceived. He not only has gentle eyes, but he gains trust quickly. Out of the three people surrounding me, he’d be my first pick if I were forced to choose who to trust the most. How fucked up is that? He is a stranger, yet I’d choose him over an ex-boyfriend and my mom. No wonder why I have trust issues—issues I’ve kept very well hidden from my boyfriend.

After filling half the bench with his backside, Tobias locks his eyes with mine. I tighten my core, anticipating a painful knock.

The prompts of my body are odd, but spot on when he asks, “Do you recall the time your father came home with a bloody nose? He had veered to miss a deer and lost control of his car, resulting in him hitting his head on the steering wheel?”

I nod, not trusting my voice not to squeak. I remember his accident very well. I thought it was lucky his car didn’t sustain any damage. Only now am I realizing I have everyone fooled. I’m not intelligent—not in the slightest.

“He didn’t hit a deer, did he?” Disappointment rings in my tone. I’m not disappointed in my dad; I’m disappointed in myself. My intuition knew something was amiss that night, but believing my dad had already overcome his darkest days, I ignored it.

“No,” Tobias answers with a shake of his head. “With Axel aiding in our investigations the past six months, we discovered your father was assaulted by members of the Petretti crew that night.”

I vault out of my chair like my ass is on fire.

“It wasn’t me,” Axel swears, recognizing I’m five seconds from smacking him into next week. “I had nothing to do with it. . .”

His words stop when my open palm connects with his left cheek.

“You may not have done it, but you knew it happened. The entire time we were together, you hid this from me. If that doesn’t make you scum, I don’t know what does.” My hand burns when I slap him for the second time.

Before I’ve disbursed one tenth of my anger, Tobias wraps his arms around my waist and drags me toward the stairwell. Fury floods me when I spot my mom’s shocked expression. She is disgusted by my unladylike behavior. I shouldn’t be surprised. She went from cutting hearts into my sandwiches to handing me twenty dollar bills when my dad’s wealth went from a peasant to a king.

Within months, she transformed from a loving, caring mother and wife to a greedy, narcissistic bitch. If I hadn’t adored who she was before money sparkled in her eyes, her betrayal wouldn’t have hurt as much. But since I loved her just as much as my father, it stung—it stung really bad.

“That is how you protect someone you love,” I snarl at my mother, ignoring the crocodile tears in her eyes.

This is just a game to people like Axel and my mom. One sick, fucked-up hoax.

When we reach the den at the bottom of the stairs, Tobias releases me from his grasp. I pace the polished marble like a mad woman—because that is precisely what I am. I’m too shocked to absorb the facts. I’m too stunned to do anything.

I freeze like a statue when Tobias says, “I’m not saying Thorn’s assault aided in his diagnosis—”

“But there is research that indicates traumatic brain injuries can increase the risk of developing dementia,” I interrupt, my words nearly a sob.

I’ve read every bit of information I could get my hands on about dementia and Alzheimer’s. I know the chances of my father’s assault being the catalyst of his condition is low, but it is still possible. He was a brilliant man, who just like me, didn’t have the APOE-e4 risk gene. There has to be more to his disease than just bad luck.

I argued with specialists for weeks that there was something iffy with my dad’s diagnosis, but since I was unable to present a plausible reason, my worries were brushed off as an overbearing daughter. God, I wish my shock hadn’t swallowed my stubbornness.

My lungs inhale their first breath in what feels like minutes when Tobias discloses, “For the past twelve months, we’ve been deep in operations to have the men responsible for your father’s assault brought to justice. But when you shake feathers, some are bound to come loose. That is why I am here, Savannah. I want to lessen the ripple effect about to impact you and your father.”

I stare, breathing but not speaking. What does he mean? What ripple effect?

Tobias knocks the wind straight out of my lungs when he advises, “I want to put your family in witness protection.”

My head shakes so uncontrollably, I look like I’m having a seizure.

Acting like he hasn’t spotted my blatant refusal, Tobias says, “Let me do what I should have done years ago. Let me protect all of you.”

I stare at him in shock, certain he didn’t admit what I just heard.

The hits keep coming when he mutters, “I thought your mother’s connections with associates in your industry meant she was the only one in danger. I was wrong.” The way he mumbles “connections” leaves no doubt as to what he means. Clearly, Ryan’s father wasn’t the only man she was sleeping with.

Ignoring the bile racing to the back of my throat, I ask, “You helped her leave?”

I don’t know why I’m asking a question when the answer is staring me straight in the face. Tobias has one of the most honest pairs of eyes I’ve ever seen. There are only two men who can compete with their candor: Ryan and my dad.

“Why would you do that, Tobias? Why would you help her abandon her family?” I grit my teeth, loathing the anger in my voice. Tobias isn’t culpable for my family’s demise. That blame lies solely on my mother’s shoulders.

Tobias takes a step closer to me before smacking me with straight up honesty. “Because I underestimated your father. I thought he’d handle her decision to leave like a normal man.”

“By treating her like she treated him?” I ask, my tone lowering to match his. “My father is a good man, Tobias. He doesn’t believe in tit for tat.”

Tobias nods, agreeing with me without words. “He blindsided me. Even with your mother spelling out every horrible thing she had done, he still searched for her.”

“My father loved her. He probably still does. He’d never hurt her just for revenge. He isn’t that kind of man.”

Tobias smiles, but his mouth remains tightlipped.

I calm my skyrocketing heart rate before asking, “I still don’t understand what this has to do with me and my dad. We aren’t in danger. . .”

My words trail off when Tobias shakes his head. It was only brief, but quick enough for me to notice.

“Despite what Axel told you, my mom didn’t steal Col’s money.”

“I know,” he agrees, smiling softly. “I’m not here about Col’s missing millions. I’m here because of this.”

My hand rattles when I accept the folded-up piece of paper from his grasp. “What the fuck?” I murmur under my breath when I read my name typed on the arrest warrant. I’m not usually a fan of profanity, but there isn’t a more adequate reply than the one I just gave. “I’m not a criminal.”

My eyes snap to Tobias when he says, “Did you hand a financial ledger to the Ravenshoe Police Department nine months ago?”

Unable to speak through the lump in my throat, I nod my head.

Tobias arches a brow. “Did it have your handwriting in it?”

I should be shutting down this interrogation and demanding to speak to a lawyer, but I’m so interested in where our conversation is heading, I can’t do anything, much less speak.

Spotting my brief nod, Tobias discloses, “So you weren’t just seen in numerous FBI surveillance images attending functions of notoriously well-known members of the underworld. . .”

“I attended as Axel’s girlfriend. I wasn’t there in a business manner. . .”

Tobias continues speaking as if I never interrupted him, “You also handed evidence of the money laundering activities you engaged in a minimum once per week for over a year to a woman who is obligated by law to share what she received.”

My heart falls into my shoes. “I didn’t launder money.” I want to say more, but decide to start at the most concerning part of his confession.

“I didn’t,” I continue to defend myself when Tobias remains quiet. “I used the cash that arrived with the ledger to pay for invoices amassed throughout the week. I didn’t launder anyone’s money.”

My last five words are nowhere near as confident as my first sentence when the routine I followed every Sunday morning smacks into me. I paid for purchases from businesses every week without bothering to check what was brought. I didn’t care what was in the gym bags they handed me, because anything purchased by Axel or his family wasn’t of interest to me.

Jesus Christ—could I have been more stupid?

I move to the stairwell to sit on the first step. If I don’t sit, I’ll fall.

“Am I going to jail?” I ask, my words shaky.

A four by four cell isn’t scaring me. It is the prospect of leaving Ryan and my dad. That is worse than any sentence I could be handed.

The sturdy stair squeaks when Tobias takes the vacant spot next to me. “No, not if you agree to my terms.”

I stop cradling my pounding head to peer at him. “What terms?”

He holds my gaze while asking, “Do you remember the businesses you collected the purchases from?”

I smirk. It isn’t a joyful smirk. “How could I forget them? I visited them a minimum once a week for over a year.” I aim for my reply to come out playful, but my attempts are pathetic. I sound as stupid as I feel.

Tobias bumps me with his shoulder, attempting to quell the panic swallowing me whole. I appreciate his effort, but I don’t think anything could take away my unease.

“There’s the get out of jail free card you’re looking for.”

“That might be a get out of jail free card, but it is also a death sentence. If those men are associated with Col, and I go against them, I’m placing a target on my back.” You can hear the turmoil in my voice.

Concerns for my father’s well-being may have forced me to turn a blind eye to things that should be obvious, but I’m not foolish enough to miss the warning alarms bellowing in my ears now. Col Petretti is a horrible man. Axel and I barely escaped his wrath when we arrived at one of his events thirty minutes late.

Our tardy arrival wasn’t even close to what Axel voiced to Ryan months ago. We weren’t doing anything that resembled sexual activities. We merely trusted the directions of a gas station attendant. It was a foolish mistake—one of many I made that year.

Tobias’s deep sigh returns my focus to him. “If you give me everything I need, Savannah, I guarantee to keep you and your father safe.”

Even with his tone matching the promise in his eyes, it doesn’t stop me from saying, “By hiding us? Pretending we don’t exist—”

“By returning your life to what it would have been if your parents hadn’t made the decision they did years ago.”

He overemphasizes “parents,” ensuring I know the brunt of our setback doesn’t solely reside on my mother’s shoulders. My father is somewhat to blame as well. He was so desperate to keep his family living in luxury, he sided with an evil man. He made a mistake. I can forgive him for that.

“You will have a good life, Savannah. A good, honest life.”

I wish Tobias’s guarantee filled me with gratitude. It doesn’t. I can’t do this. My dad refuses to leave his room, and I refuse to leave Ryan. He has had me under a spell since I was four, but the few weeks we had while Axel was at football camp turned the spell into a full-blown trance. I honestly felt like I couldn’t breathe the months following Justine’s eighteenth. I wouldn’t survive leaving him again. Furthermore, I’d rather face the consequences of my actions than hurt him more than I already have. He’s been through enough. He doesn’t deserve more heartache.

“I can’t,” I mutter, my two words barely audible since they were forced through the fear clutching my throat. “I can’t leave Ryan. I can’t give him up.”

Like I can be any more stupid, I up the ante. I’m racing for the front door of my house before Tobias even registers my legs are moving. I hear him shout my name, but nothing can stop my steps. It has been weeks since I’ve seen Ryan’s smile in the flesh. I’m not giving that up for anything.

Not even a bullet.