Three fucking years, and she was going to stand there looking at me like that?
“Get the fuck out.” My voice was grit.
Rynna reeled at my side. Gasping over a breath. She barely caught herself before she fell to her knees, clutching Milo to her chest.
“No.” It was a whimper from her mouth.
Grief.
“Rynna,” I whispered, arm going out to gather her up. To steady her. To let her know it didn’t matter this fucking bitch was standing at my door.
Panic surged through me when she dodged my touch and lurched forward, grabbing her purse from where she’d set it on the floor the night before, and then bolted out my door.
Janel stumbled out of her way as Rynna blew by.
No fucking way was I letting this happen.
I darted after her. “Rynna. Stop. Don’t leave. Don’t . . . fuck, don’t leave.”
Don’t leave.
She didn’t seem to be able to focus when she looked back at me. She kept moving, stumbling down the steps of my front porch and clinging to the railing with one hand and Milo with the other, her eyes glazed over with confusion.
With horror.
With disbelief.
Like she was running from her own ghosts.
“Rynna,” I begged it again, desperate where I stood at the edge of my porch. Right where I’d confessed to her all my secrets last night.
“Please . . . just . . . don’t,” she pleaded. Her eyes flashed to Janel for a beat before she had a hand up to stop me. Frantic, she swallowed. “I have to . . . I have to get out of here.”
“Rynna.”
With a sharp, erratic shake of her head, she turned, fumbling as she shot forward.
Every part of me wanted to chase after her. Last thing I wanted was to be standing there, helpless, watching her flee across the road and disappear inside her house.
But I had an issue I needed to manage.
Hands clenched, I slowly turned to look at where Janel stood at the far end of the porch. She was twisting her fingers, throat wobbling, just as sure as her bottom lip. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to just show up—”
My head cocked, words nothing but fiery darts that cut her off. “You’re sorry?” I took a menacing step forward. “Three fucking years, and you’re sorry?”
“Rex . . . I . . . I can explain.”
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”
My heart dropped to the fucking floor when Frankie was suddenly there in the doorway, tiny fists rubbing at her sleepy eyes. “Daddy? Who’s is here?”
“Baby,” Janel suddenly said. She lunged forward, going right for her.
Anger.
Disgust.
Disbelief.
They roiled.
I reached out and gripped her by the upper arm, probably harder than I should have. “Don’t you dare.”
She looked at me as if she couldn’t believe I would stop her. As if she had any right. I pushed her behind me and dropped to my knees in front of my daughter. Almost frantic, I brushed back that unruly disaster of hair from her face while I felt everything inside me bust apart. “Need you to do Daddy a big, huge favor.”
She grinned, and I fucking cringed when she glanced over my shoulder.
And I fucking saw it.
The recognition. The goddamned pictures I used to show her, thinking her seeing her mother’s face might comfort her. Back when I promised my daughter that her mother would be coming back. That everything would be all right. Knowing someday Janel would come to her senses and return.
When I’d remained devoted.
I’d prayed for it.
Begged for it.
Motherfucking loyalty.
“Is that’s my mommy?” She seemed confused by it, not exactly excited.
Wary.
That panic lit in an all-out frenzy.
“Yes, baby. Yes. I’m your mommy.”
Every muscle in my body seized, and I wanted to lash out. Shout at Janel. Tell her to go right back to hell where she’d come from.
I shifted so Frankie could only look at me, and I begged her with my eyes. “Daddy needs you to do me that favor, Sweet Pea.”
She nodded at me. Like she’d just caught on to my turmoil.
I squeezed her by the hips. “Need you to go into your room and shut your door. Don’t come out until I come get you, okay? Can you do that for me?”
She nodded with all that trust. “Course, I can.”
“Good girl,” I told her, hoping my words didn’t shake.
I didn’t rise until she turned the corner at the end of the hall, only pausing to peer back at us once, curiosity and a shot of fear in the wells of her brown eyes.
Like she could feel mine.
Years of suppressed, barely checked hate.
It was all there in the clench of my fists when I finally pushed to my feet. My teeth ground so hard I was sure they were grating to dust. And Janel? She just stood there with a pleading expression on her face. A face I’d once thought pretty.