Allie

My stomach is rolling in every direction, and I don't know what to do other than not panic. Beads of sweat roll down my forehead despite my air conditioning blasting through the car. I've rolled through three stop signs and haven't driven this fast ever.

My phone keeps ringing, but I can't talk to anyone right now. I told Lucas I would go back home, and I meant it.

I speed around cars, earning a few honks on the way, but screw them. It's not normal to just leave work, but it's also not normal to have some man–who turns out to be your father–make threats to a person knowing that they could just get away with it. Also, I left my purse, so I know I'm breaking the law, too. If I get caught, I am crossing my fingers that the single officer I know would pull me over. Lucas' friend and Charity's old fling, Joel.

Call it all instinct, though, because I know I need to get to Jadon. Mark had a look in his eye like a warning, and I won't ignore that.

Lucas is looking out for us, but all I'm seeing right now are tubes and cords and doctors in and out of my hospital room. None of them were answering me about Jadon until after my dad arrived. That same fear is like ice in my veins, and I need to get to him.

If Mark can get away with all the stuff my dad mentioned and get away with my accident, I know he can do whatever he wants. I won't take a risk there.

I pull into the daycare, not caring that I'm in two parking spots, and fail when I try to shake off the nerves. There is a silver car parked to the side, and there are plenty of spaces for anyone else to park. I dare someone to say something to me.

My mind is telling me to run for it and not wait around to find out how often Mark Vendenburg follows through on threats. I have a theory, and it's totally bizarre, but the way Mark alluded to the accident, and something my dad said just aren't sitting right with me. It's at a point where I have to wonder when Mark actually started paying attention to me and how long he had been watching. Also, his muddied concern for me and his objectification of Lucas show two different sides of him.

He cares more about having Lucas for Katrina, and just wants me gone, but why? My theory rings in my head, but it makes little sense. Mark doesn't care what happens to me. He wants me gone.

Oh god, what about Ted? He's part of it. He probably didn't mean to be. Maybe he just got mixed up somehow. Ted was always nice when we were kids. How did he get involved in whatever this is? It makes sense, now, that he went away to a great college and somehow has all this money that he apparently "saves."

I guess everyone has their price.

It takes three tries to punch in the right code to get inside this place, and by then, my sweaty hands are shaking so much that I can barely open the door.

"Allie?" One lady that works here stops in front of me. She has a blue apron on with paint on it and I can't remember her name at the moment. She's holding a dirty water cup with paintbrushes in it. "Is everything okay?"

I move past her with the best smile I can conjure up and gather Jadon's things at his cubby. My voice is uncontrollably pitchy, but oh well. It is what it is. "Yeah, I just need to get Jadon. Where is he?"

She frowns. "You look pale. Are you okay? Do you need–?"

She snaps her mouth shut when I turn on her. "I need my son. Where is he?" She means well, but she's standing between me and Jadon, and I'm about to storm through this place until I find him. I don't care how psychotic I look right now. She stiffens up–Tiffany? Beth? It's something feminine. Francine?

"Uhhh...." When I fix my eyes on her–they're probably my crazy eyes judging by the fear in hers–she snaps her jaw shut and looks around us. "He's just finished lunch, and they're reading a story. I'll go grab him for you."

"I need him now, so please hurry." Yes, I may be losing it, and being entirely rude, but I'm not wrong about this. Knowing I need to get him is like knowing you have to inhale in order to exhale.

Frick, Allie, just calm down. He's going to sense the urgency and stress out too.

While she scurries off to grab Jadon, the director smiles and waves at me from her office. She's on the phone behind a closed door, so hopefully she didn't hear the crazy come out in my voice. I need to look away, though, because the eye contact is making me feel guilty. The silver car from the parking lot pulls away and I hear Jadon's voice.

"Mommy!" He runs toward me while the apron lady stands nervously behind him. "Where's daddy?"

Probably hunting down Mark Vandenburg to throw punches and probably get arrested.

"Daddy's at work. You and me are getting the afternoon off, okay?"

The woman folds her hands in front of her apron. Her normally chipper face is plagued with concern. "I hope everything is okay, Allie."

With a small smile, I pick up Jadon and nod at her. "It's a family emergency. Thank you for getting him, and I apologize for being rude." There. That should suffice, and hopefully, she won't assume I'm about to do something stupid or crazy.

I won't hold my breath.

She nods and I don't waste time taking Jadon out the front door. While I don't want to go back home, Lucas insisted on it. To be honest, I would rather be somewhere I could hide in public with him. Like a park or a store. Home just feels like a bad idea.

Jadon straps himself in and I triple-check he has everything on and is fastened better than someone who rides in a damn rocket ship thing. If I were to drive off the edge of the planet and head straight for Saturn or something, he would remain in his seat.

I'm spazzing out.

"Why are your hands shaking?"

Because your grandfather is a creepy threatening guy who can cover up our murders, probably. What's worse, he's determined to make us leave, and your daddy doesn't want to leave because he thinks he can stand up to this guy. Oh, and your daddy was sleeping with mommy's half-sister before daddy came back into our lives. She's equally crazy, and it wouldn't surprise me if the wife is just as nuts.

"I have low blood sugar and need a snack."

"I have carrots in my pack-pack if you want them."

Lord, this child has the sweetest heart, and he certainly doesn't get it from me. All this time, I thought that was me, but it's freaking Lucas.

"Mommy, why are you crying?"

Okay, he needs to stop with the sensitive act and I need to act like a freaking adult for a minute. Well, I can't because the phone rings again while I'm getting myself situated in the car. Of course it's Lucas, and I'll answer it now that I have Jadon and can suddenly breathe again–not that it's settled the drumroll in my chest.

"Hi, Lucas."

He sounds out of breath, too, while I pull out onto the main road. "Allie, did you get him?"

"Daddy! Mommy's crying."

"You're crying? Allie, just come back here."

Oh, right, like I'm going back there. The thought makes me want to get sick. Nope. I need the comfort of home or a new place where someone can't just kill me in broad daylight.

I need to avoid freeways, probably.

The long way it is.

"Lucas, we're headed home like you asked." He breathes on the other side, and I catch the bell ringing in the background. "Are you leaving?"

We shouldn't talk about Mark in front of Jadon. At least, not while I'm driving and straddling the line between deranged and anxious.

"Your dad got put on leave, Allie. He's getting his things, and we canceled practice. He and I are leaving in five, and he's dropping me off at home, so I'll be right behind you."

I breathe out some of the stress and let some relief take over. "Okay."

"Allie, just go straight home, and don't stop anywhere. He's not here anymore and I don't know where he went. We'll figure this out when I get there."

Yes, because he wants to... what? I don't even know. Rumble with the rich man who probably has his own body guards or secret service guys with the eye tattoos and names of their victims tattooed on their bodies somewhere.

I can already feel their meaty hands squeezing my throat.

"Allie."

Shit. "Yeah?"

"Your dad feels like shit, Allie, and please hear him out when he comes over."

I can't even deal with my dad right now. Yeah, sure, he was in a tight spot and all, but really? He couldn't have casually mentioned I'm not actually related to him while he complained about eating the kale chips I made him when his cholesterol was a little high? Whatever, it's not the priority right now. Did Lucas forget the warning from Mark?

With caution, knowing the listening ears in the back are basically recording this conversation only to bring it up at the worst possible time, I manage to get Lucas off the phone when I promise to go straight home. Again.

Duh.

I spent the last ten minutes of the drive reiterating the "don't talk to strangers" conversation and "even if they say they know mommy" lines. Jadon knows. By golly, this kid is always ready and excited to scream and run even when the mall Santa waves at him.

"And what about Ted? Is he a stranger?"

Apparently. "Well, Ted just is living his life now, and you have your dad."

I'm kicking myself for letting someone I've always known into his life, even though there were all the conversations about how he "loved Jadon" and "would like to get to that point" where Jadon saw him as a father.

Vomit. Hiccup. Groan. Repeat.

Ted and Mark. Mark and Ted. Dad and my mom. What about Charity? No, she's my ride or die. The reluctance has become so real in the last hour I'm questioning everyone in my life now. Funny how six months ago, I would have said Lucas was someone I would never trust when he's really the only person who's never lied to me or tried to hurt me.

To drop that cherry bomb on top of the icing of the cake that is my life, my biological father literally saw me lose my virginity to the boy he was reserving for his preferred daughter–the one that looks better for his public image. I can't tell if he just hates me or if he strongly dislikes me.

Or if it's something else.

I take the last corner until we make it to the house. In the rush, I grab Jadon and take quick steps to the door, my hand shaking while I screw around with the lock until it just falls open.

Well, it doesn't fall.

Someone opens it from the inside.

Her face alone rips the air from my lungs and sends my heart into overdrive. I knew it. We shouldn't have come back. Her smile is the one to fear. She's the vindictive one that hides in his shadow.

With Jadon tight against me, asking who she is, I take a step back, only for someone to stop me from behind.

"You're not going anywhere, Allie," Ted's voice is in my ear. His icy fingers shift my hair away from my shoulder and he presses his lips to my neck. He breathes me in, holding something hard against my back, while I'm frozen with those blue eyes on me.

She looks at me as though I'm the one that's done something wrong. As though I'm the one who chose to be born and all that.

I knew I shouldn't have come here.

Judging by the look on Vivian Vandenburg's face, she knows what I'm thinking. I'm not fully aware of the dynamics here, but I can sense the tension between Vivian and Ted, and my gut is telling me now why Mark was covering this up.

It wasn't Ted or Katrina or even Mark that hit me.

It was his jealous wife.