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Her stomach was in knots, but Taryn managed to lead her mom to the living room with her dad in tow. Her mom sat right next to her and put her hands on Taryn’s face. “What did he do to you? Have you called the police?”

“No.”

“You need to call the police,” she insisted.

“Momma,” Taryn said, her voice betraying her with a quiver. “He didn’t hurt me. I’m okay. Please calm down.”

“I will not. How am I supposed to be calm about this?” Her eyes went wide. “Is this the man whose house you were at the other morning?”

“Mom—”

Alarm crossed her face. “Oh God, he raped you.”

“Honey…” her father said, his voice tight. “Let her talk. This is very difficult for her.”

Taryn felt nauseous. Her parents were staring at her, bracing for the horrible news, ready to comfort her. So much of her wanted to soothe them, to tell them that yes, she was the victim, that none of this was her fault. It was the same feeling she’d had when she’d decided not to tell them she’d opened the door prom night, not to tell them she’d been annoyed with Nia that night. It made it easier for her—but also for them. This time, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “He didn’t hurt me. I…was there willingly.”

“But he lied to you,” her father cut in, hot anger in his voice. “That’s rape, Taryn. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but he lied and…toyed with you.”

Taryn swallowed hard. She’d come here to do this, but now that it was the moment, she wanted to run. She didn’t want to hurt them. They’d had so much hurt already for one lifetime. She looked down. “He didn’t lie to me.”

The words fell between them like a guillotine, cutting off her mom’s sobs and replacing them with a sucked-in breath. Taryn lifted her head. They both stared at her as though she’d spoken in a different language.

“What do you mean?” her father asked carefully.

Taryn rubbed her damp palms over her thighs, smoothing invisible wrinkles out of her jeans, trying to find the right words. There were none. All the words were lined with sharp glass. “He didn’t lie to me. I knew who he was. We’ve been seeing each other.”

Understanding dawned on her mother’s face like night falling over the plains, her expression going from sad to horrified. “Taryn, you are not telling me…”

“I am,” she said, her tongue dry as a bone. “I knew who he was. He’s not a bad person. He’s—”

“The brother of a murderer,” her mother shouted, getting to her feet. “Taryn.”

Her dad had a shattered expression on his face.

Taryn pushed forward, trying to stay calm despite her heartbeat crashing in her chest. “I know it’s hard to understand. And I’m sorry. I never wanted to upset you. I know how this sounds. He’s Joseph’s brother, but he’s not Joseph.”

“You study this,” her mom said, anger like fire in her voice. “You know this runs in families. He was raised by the same people. He’s been in trouble before. How could you do this to us? To Nia?”

Taryn got to her feet at that, tears streaming now. “Don’t do that, Momma. Please. This is not about Nia. And I study this, but if I believed people were destined to be evil, then what would be the point of all my research and the program? He grew up in the same family, but so many things go into creating a murderer. That’s why interventions can work.”

Her mother was shaking her head, denying Taryn’s words before she was finished saying them. “No. No. You are never to see this man again. You hear me? This is…ludicrous. I don’t know what he put in your head, but—”

“He didn’t put anything in my head. He’s just a person. A regular person.”

“He is not a regular person. He is a Miller. Joseph came from that family. He did not come from a vacuum.” Her mother pointed at Taryn. “And you will not tell this to the press. You will not shame this family like that. Think of all the other victims and families,” she said, voice shaking. “Think of how this will look. How selfish. You brought that family back into our lives. Just because what? You thought he was good-looking?”

Anger flared in Taryn then. “Think about the victims? The families? My family? When do I think about anything else? When?”

“Taryn—” her father warned.

“No. I love you guys with everything I have. I love Nia.” She pressed her hand to her chest, her breathing labored now, grief choking her, but she forced the rest of the words out as tears streamed down her face. “I have spent every waking moment of my life since that horrible night fighting for her, for you, for all of us. Every waking moment.”

“Apparently not all of them if you had time for this man,” her mother snapped.

Taryn stared at her in disbelief. “I have given everything I have to this. I wanted to help. I wanted to make you proud. I never wanted to hurt you. You have to know that.”

“You will never see him again,” her mother reiterated. “And you will tell the press you didn’t know who he was.”


Tags: Roni Loren The Ones Who Got Away Romance