True. But we were dealing with assholes who used money to manipulate and bend the laws in their favor. Having a runaway daughter wasn’t good for Angie’s image. I was a trophy for her, something to show off. If I didn’t return home with her, she would continue to find ways to make my father’s life hell. I couldn’t let that happen.
“True. And there is nothing we can do to prevent her from running away again,” the officer informed.
“Fuck,” Micah growled, a low rumble that of displeasure.
“Micah?” my voice came out in a soft plea. I don’t know what I was asking him to do, but I wanted him to make this nightmare go away.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get you out of this. I promise, Josie,” he said vehemently. “I’ll call Brock We’ll make some calls.”
“Are you sure there isn’t a mistake?” Dad asked, looking dumbfounded and helpless. “I talked to my ex-wife this morning. She never mentioned anything about calling the police or wanting Josie home.”
“I wish I could help you, but unfortunately, we’re just doing our job. I suggest getting in touch with your lawyer to straighten this out,” the officer advised.
“You better believe she will,” Micah retorted.
Dad ran a hand through his hair roughly, his features solemn. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I’ll get to the bottom of this as soon as I can.”
I almost told him not to bother. What was the point? Steven Patterson’s team of lawyers battling it out with my dad’s small-town guy. My only hope was Brock, but I didn’t want to tell that to my father.
I had only wanted one week with my dad before my entire life blew up. Angie stole it from me. This was probably the last time we’d be together like this, as father and daughter. The next time I saw him, he’d be looking at the stolen girl who wasn’t biologically his.
My gaze lingered over the only dad I had known for just a bit longer. A part of me wanted to fight or make a mad dash. Instead, my shoulders slumped, and I gave my dad a long hug before following the officers down the driveway.
Micah trailed after us. “Can I ride with her?” he asked.
The officer’s boots clattered over the driveway as we made our way toward the squad car. “Sorry, we can’t allow anyone else to accompany her.”
“But you can’t stop me from following you,” Micah speculated.
“No, we can’t,” an officer responded on a huff like he was having a long, shitty day. Couldn’t be worse than mine.
I took one last glance out the back of the cop car at the house I grew up in. Dad stood on the front porch watching me with a forlorn expression. He might not be my biological father, but he was the only dad I knew. He loved me, and this was breaking his heart.
Angie couldn’t be more of a bitch in my eyes.
* * *
I said not a single word as I rode in the back of the police car. My first ride in a cop car. A metal gate separated me from the officers, making me feel criminal. They didn’t handcuff me, but they might as well have.
Micah’s Hummer rolled behind us, offering a thin ribbon of comfort. It wasn’t enough to overpower the anxiety that crashed inside me like a raging storm.
The Patterson mansion came into view. I rested my forehead against the window, my stomach tied in one giant knot. It had been almost a month since I lived under the Pattersons’ roof or with Angie. Just the thought of seeing my insufferable mother made my skin crawl.
I refused to call that place home. It was sure as hell wasn’t mine.
The officers announced themselves at the gate, waiting for it to swing open. How could I live here and pretend everything was normal? I didn’t know how long I could do it, stay under the same roof as Angie and Carter. If I left, how many times would Angie threaten those who helped with harboring a runaway?
Micah parked his Hummer at the end of the driveway behind the iron fence, keeping an eye on me as I was let out of the police car. It was his way of letting me know I wasn’t alone. They hadn’t abandoned me. He had no idea what his presence meant to me. It gave me the strength to walk up to the front door, flanked by both officers as if they were afraid I might try something stupid. Good call, because that was exactly what rolled through my head. Each step closer I took, the louder the panic grew to bolt, to save myself.
Angie opened the door before we got to the porch landing. Her hand flew to her chest in a gesture of relief. There were fake tears in her glittering eyes. “Oh, thank God,” she proclaimed.
She reached out for me, taking me into her arms for a hug. I stood limply frozen in place, not returning her embrace. It took everything inside me not to shove her away, and I bit my tongue. I thought about creating a scene but coming here had sucked all the energy out of me.
“Look at you,” she said like a concerned parent, surveying my face. Her tongue tsked. “What did you do to your face?” The keyword in that sentence wasyou. Somehow getting the crap beat out of me became my fault, as if I’d somehow caused it or initiated the fight.
My nostrils flared.
“Nothing a little cover-up won’t fix right up,” she said, tweaking the end of my chin with a smile. She then turned those deep red lips to the policeman standing behind me.