But I was beginning to understand that having a backbone wasn’t about being brave and stupid, jumping in with both feet, rushing to meet the horizon, so as the sun peaked it burned you blind.

It was about being scared shitless, knowing the source of your fears, understanding them, outsmarting them, and going forth to conquer them anyway.

I didn’t know what his plan would be.

I just knew whatever it was, I had to find the strength to be with him all the way so I’d feel worthy of being with him the rest of the way.

“I’ll be in and out,” I assured him. “Georgia’s got all sorts of stuff on. She’s never been overly interested in this kind of thing anyway. I’ll probably be back in my car on the way to my office in half an hour.”

“I want you texting me when you’re out of there,” he ordered.

Patiently, I reminded him, “I don’t text and drive, Nick.”

“Then pull over, Olivia, and text me, or just call me and talk to me on your fuckin’ Bluetooth like you’re doin’ now.”

At that curt demand, and the open disquiet behind it, I felt a chill slide over my scalp.

Even so, I assured Nick again. “I’m just meeting Georgie, sweetheart.”

“Just contact me one way or another when you’re out of there, babe. Yeah?”

“Yeah, Nick.”

“My man will be waiting. He’ll pick you up again when you leave. I still want to hear direct from you you’re okay.”

“All right, honey.”

“Right, Liv. Later, baby.”

“Later.”

He hung up.

I stared at the grungy outside of the warehouse through my windshield, took a breath and shook off the weird feeling Nick’s call left me. That done, I threw open my door.

I was walking up the stairs inside the warehouse that led to the hall of offices when a text sounded on my phone.

I kept moving as I grabbed it and read it.

It was Georgia, See you pulled up. Meet me in Dad’s office.

Along with the lingering weirdness I felt from Nick’s call, I didn’t feel happy thoughts about that text.

But this was my sister. This was Georgie. Even if Dad was in a snit about something, she looked out for me.

And Dad was leaving me be. In fact, it seemed after I sorted the David stuff and moved on from Tommy, he was coming to terms with the daughter that was me. He wasn’t asking me over for cookouts, but he wasn’t in my space or my life hardly at all. This, to my way of thinking, was the best gift he could give me.