When we got on the road, Frank told me about Sheriff Peak wanting to speak to us about the shoot-out. “He probably just wants our side of the story,” he said. “That’s all.”

I groaned. “We didn’t do anything wrong, though.”

“Pretty sure he knows that. I think he really wants to talk to me, but since you were there he needs your statement as well. Hell, he’s probably tried calling your father’s company already, looking for something from them. It’s his property after all.”

I just sighed at the mention of my father, the memory of Barbara Hacks’ warning me about not speaking to anyone about what was going on coming to mind. An image of her coming after me with an actual ax in hand, eyes alight with fury and rage, gave me shivers.

Did that include Frank, though?

Frank and I both were quiet as we sped through the night to Enchanted Rock. Anywhere else in the world, and it would have probably been considered early. But something about Colorado, with the mountains looming between you and the sun, always made it seem like night came sooner and sooner, especially during fall and winter.

For my part, I didn’t mind the quiet at first. I was too busy trying to mull over what the step-bitch and the battle ax that worked for my father had told me. My father was a criminal. He was working with horrible people, people who killed children, who trafficked women, who manufactured drugs, and destroyed communities and families.

He cleaned their money. He protected their money. He made their money palatable and spendable.

What was Barbara Hacks worried about, though? Certainly not about getting justice for the people exploited to make that money. Instead, she was concerned about the business failing, the government coming in and blaming us for his failings.

God, how much of the allowance I spent each month came from places like that? What did that make me? I was profiting just as much from this criminal money as they were.

My own father. A criminal, wanted by all sides for the money he’d stolen, for the laws he’d broken.

“Mind loosening up a little, Ashley?” Frank asked with a wince, shaking me from my reverie.

I blinked slowly and looked down at my hand, which had gripped his at some point during the drive. “I’m sorry!” I hadn’t even realized what I was doing.

“You trying to turn my hand into diamonds or something, Supergirl?”

I groaned in shame and let go of his hand, putting mine carefully back in my lap. “Oh, Frank, I’m so sorry,” I said, trailing off as I looked out the window. “I’m just—I just—I don’t know. I have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Seemed like it. Didn’t think it was possible for you to be this clammed up.”

I laughed and brushed some hair from my face. I gave my eyes a break from tracking the dark scenery as it flew past and glanced at Frank’s handsome face, studying his silhouette for a moment.

He was just so different from every other man I’d met. I found myself wondering what he’d be like when he wasn’t at work. What did he do for fun? Hunt? Watch football? Woodworking?

Clearly, it wasn’t shopping. No, Frank seemed to me like the type of guy who’d research and research for days and days, sometimes weeks, then make a carefully calculated decision based on what he needed. A salesman’s worst nightmare.

Besides, shopping just seemed like it might be too immaterial to him. Not that it was beneath him, just that it wasn’t hands-on enough. To Frank, it would be a chore. Something that had to be done when it had to be done, and not a moment before or afterwards. He didn’t need retail therapy because guys like him wouldn’t go to therapy to begin with. They’d go drink a couple beers with their buddies, cry into their beer if they needed it, then try to forget about it in the morning.

Not my usual type at all. And definitely not the type who fell for me, either.

I didn’t even know why I was obsessing about him this way. I knew I didn’t have a chance with him. He was a self-made man, someone who’d pulled himself up by his bootstraps. What was I? Some woman who’d been surviving off an allowance from her father, using his credit cards, and paying other people to clean up my messes. Literally. And, even then, it all got screwed up.

I’m sure he thought I was pretty. I’d felt his eyes on me all day, so I knew he was at least attracted to me. But it wasn’t anything more than that. It couldn’t be. He didn’t want a woman like me. He wanted someone who wasn’t taking money from her father every month—someone who wasn’t taking money from criminals.

I glanced away as Frank finally looked over at me, a perplexed look on his face.

“You alright?” he asked in concern.

I sighed and nodded at first. After a moment, though, I shook my head. “No. No, I’m really not.”

“Is it about what y’all talked about in the conference room? That closed meeting?”

I nodded.

He sighed, glancing over at me. “That bad?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s good.”

He grunted. “If it’s about your safety, don’t worry. We’re going to have plenty of people watching you.”

“It’s not just that. It’s just…it’s something else. Have you ever had one of those moments where, I don’t know, everything just changed for you? Where, just all of a sudden, it was like white became black and black became white? A complete flip?”

He glanced at me, a little smile on his lips. He nodded after a moment, the smile now reaching his eyes. “I reckon I know what you mean. Not in the exact same way, maybe, but close enough.”

“Everything changed. Last night, everything was fine. Tonight? I don’t know.”

“Yep. Sometimes things happen like that. Gotta roll with the punches, though. You tap the mat, you get back up. Keep on keeping on.”

I frowned and turned my attention back out the window to the highway sign for Enchanted Rock. Just fifteen more miles. “But I don’t wanna.”

“Reminds me of something my Uncle Isaac always told me. Life is full of pain, but that’s not what it’s about. It’s about how you react to it. It’s not just there to punish, it’s there to teach.”

“Know what, Frank? Your Uncle Isaac sounds like a pretty unpleasant person.”

He nodded. “That he was. But he taught me a lot about pain and how to react to it.”

“Not really helping his image.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry, not much could. Uncle Isaac was a real grade A piece of shit. But he was right. Life is about how you react to what gets thrown at you. Do you wanna face it? Or do you want to curl up in a ball, or try to run away?”

“I don’t know. I just know that, no matter how this all turns out, nothing’s going to be the same for me when it’s all over.”

“Well, whatever you decide you want, no matter how you decide you want to react to getting knocked around by life, Frost Security is here. Okay? I’m here. No matter what happens, I’ll have your back on this.”

Coming from any other man in my life, his words wouldn’t have been much comfort. But, for whatever reason, coming from Frank O’Dwyer, they were. Maybe it was the timbre of his voice, or just the confidence. But I knew he was going to keep his word. Even if he died trying, he was going to keep it. For a moment, he reminded me of my father. Rather, how I remembered my father. A man of his word, a man who actually kept his promises when he made them.

I didn’t know what to say. Instead, I nodded a little numbly as visions of police coming to my childhood home filled my head. Of my father being taken away in handcuffs, of everything my family had worked for burning to the ground, of me getting turned down from every party, every gala, every event.

Ashley Maxwell. Pariah.

That was about to be me.

But what had Frank just said? You tap the mat, you get back up? And life wasn’t just about the pain you experienced, but how you moved forward from it.

I took a deep breath, mulled over his words, and tried to take some solace in them. Before I knew it, we were through the city limits of Enchanted Rock and headed into town.

By the time we’d pulled up at Frost Security and Frank had turned off the SUV, I’d come to my decision. I turned to him and put my hand on his again where it was on the steering wheel. “Frank, I need to talk to you. About something serious.”

He just looked at me, his eyes boring into mine.

I expected him to grab my hand. To nod. To let me pour my heart out to him. To give me his undivided attention.

“Can it wait?” he asked very seriously. “I’m very, very hungry.”

You’ve got to be kidding me! After all that we’d talked about on the way back up here?

I sputtered. “What?” I pulled my hand back from his and climbed out of the SUV, my feet almost getting tangled and sending me tumbling onto the rock and gravel lot. “Screw you, Frank!” I slammed the passenger side door behind me and stomped up to the office’s front patio.

“Ashley, wait!” he said as he jumped out of the cab of the SUV. He came at a half jog, taking the steps up to the porch two at a time.

“Fuck you, Frank,” I growled.

“Dammit, Ashley, you don’t understand. I had to do that.”

“Had to act like an asshole?” I asked, armed crossed. “Or treat me like shit?”

He shrugged, his jaw set and his brow furrowed. “Both. It was something Simon said. I don’t trust the men working for your family. I wouldn’t be surprised if the truck was bugged.”

I shook my head and sighed. “Well, that makes two of us because I don’t trust my stepmother or my father’s assistant.”

“Come on,” he said, lightly grabbing me by the elbow and guiding me towards the office’s front door, “explain inside. I know there isn’t anyone listening in here. Well, no one except Gen or Lacy, that is.”