My hands were sweating. I hadn’t taken my pills yet because I’d woken up feeling calm for once, but now I desperately wished I had. Panic pressed up beneath my lungs, a slow-moving suffocation. I told myself I wasn’t afraid, but the closer I got to him, waiting there with a cigarette hanging from his lips, the farther I got from myself.

I was gone and what remained was a terrified child, small and alone. Looking for an exit, desperate for a place to hide, sitting with his back to his bedroom door with the hope that his own body could serve as a barricade.

I stopped about five yards away from him and the gate between us. Vincent and Jason came to a halt right behind me. They had my back; they’d fight for me without a second of hesitation.

Dad pulled the cigarette from his lips, the cherry flaring as he flicked it away and blew out a cloud of smoke. God, he’d aged. Years of alcohol abuse and smoking had forged deep lines across his face; his blotchy cheeks a few days past his last shave. Still, looking at him was like staring into a terrifyingly distorted mirror. Like those horror films where the protagonist sees their own reflection transform into something sinister.

Our resemblance was a curse, but it was also a warning. His path could have been mine, and I’d done everything in my power to ensure that it wasn’t.

“You’re not welcome here,” I said. My voice didn’t shake, but I kept it low and rough with the effort to steady it.

Dad chuckled, a slight wheeze coming out with it. “That’s the greeting I get? I come home to my boy telling me I’m not welcome? What kind of shit is that?”

That was all the greeting he deserved. No niceties, no small talk. He wasn’t fucking welcome, and I wanted there to be no doubt about it.

The sound of his voice felt like getting punched in the chest. My body flushed rapidly hot, then cold.

At least Jess was inside, out of his sight. Lucas was always the most eager for a fight, but I didn’t need that right now. I needed him to keep our girl safe, and I knew he would. I knew, but I still couldn’t stop the rising panic. But I kept it hidden. I masked it like I always had.

“This is my property,” I said. “And if I say you’re not welcome, then you’re not goddamn welcome.”