I forced my feet into action, carrying me up the steps and towards the front door. My hand stilled on the knob a few beats before I twisted it open.
“Anyone home?” I called as I stepped inside.
“In here,” my dad answered.
I steeled myself as I headed towards the living room and his voice. Normally, he’d be out with the cattle or horses at this time of day. But he wasn’t working alongside the ranch hands. He was home. Waiting for me.
As I stepped into the open living and dining space, I took in my parents. They looked older, lines of strain around their eyes and mouths, and I knew I’d been the one to put them there.
I tried my best to get my mouth to curve into a smile but knew it came off as more of an awkward grimace. “Hey.”
My dad scanned my face, zeroing in on the deepening bruise around my eye. He stood, making his way to me, but stopped just a foot short. “Shy.”
I felt the need in him to touch me, to make sure I was okay, but he held himself back. For me. I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around his waist and squeezing hard. “I’m okay. Really.”
His arms were tentative at first, encircling me lightly as if I were made of glass. “I’m sorry this happened.”
“It’s over. And I’m fine.” Except it wasn’t over. Not really.
I stepped out of my dad’s hold. His eyes shone with unshed tears. My mom looked on with shock and awe filling her expression. I crossed to her on the couch and leaned down. I gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, then quickly squeezed her hand before I took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs.
My heart hammered in my chest. I’d been waiting for that sensation to come, the one that grated against my skin with touch. But it didn’t come.
My mom blinked a few times. “You’re okay?”
I nodded. Better than I’d been since before the kidnapping, even though things were messier than ever. Even with the threats and the attack and having to spill the truth to my family, I was better than okay. I wasgood.Happy. It felt like I was truly living for the first time in years.
“I’m good. And I’m not just saying that.”
My mom dabbed at her eyes. “I can see that.”
Dad cleared his throat as he sat next to Mom, taking her hand. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
I heard the hurt lacing his words. Not being able to protect his family killed something in a man like my father. And my kidnapping had been the worst kind of blow. Knowing that someone had been taunting and terrorizing me years later was almost too much for him to bear.
My fingers tightened around the chair’s cushion, digging in deep. “I wanted to deal with it myself. I didn’t want to lose what little freedom I had. And if I’d told you…”
“We would’ve locked everything down again,” my mom finished for me. She shook her head, her gaze traveling to the back windows to stare out at the ranch. After a moment, she turned back to me. “I’m so sorry. I know I didn’t handle any of this well. I’ve had a few sessions with my therapist, trying to unpack it all. I could explain my reasons but—”
“I get it. I promise. I know all of this is hard. I should’ve told you so many things. But I couldn’t find the words.”
Dad’s throat worked as he swallowed. “Did Howard Kemper—did he—?”
“No. I swear on my life, nothing like that happened. He just…he told me he was going to marry me off to his son.” I searched for what I wanted to say next—what I had realized through my conversations about it with Ramsey. “I think that messed with my head more than I realized. Made me scared of relationships.”
My mom sat up straighter. “Of course, it did. You may not have known everything marriage entailed at ten, but some part of you knew that what he was saying was wrong. And as you got older, you put more of those pieces together.” She squeezed my dad’s hand tighter. “We should’ve seen it. Realized there was more to what happened.”
“This isn’t your fault.”
“It’s none of our faults,” Dad said as he let out a long breath. “All we can do now is be honest with one another going forward. No more secrets, no more locking you away for your protection.”
Mom nodded and searched my face. “What do you need, Shy? From us, I mean. I want to help, but I don’t want to hurt you in the process of trying to do that.”
My eyes and throat burned. She’d never asked that before. She’d always just done what she needed to make herself feel better. Safer. I didn’t blame her for it. Losing a child, even just for a few days, changed a person.
I dug my fingers deeper into the chair. “I need you to trust me and my judgment. I need you to let me live.”
Tears filled my mom’s eyes, but she nodded. “I trust you. It was never about that. I let my fear get the best of me.”