His words send steel shooting down my spine. This family has come together to save and protect me. That means I need to step up and do my part to do the same for them. I give Spencer a small nod of understanding and then spill every last horrid detail, skating over parts where Callum is my lover, not Dempsey. By the time I’m finished, I’m crying.

“I’m going to get you some water,” the officer says, her features soft with concern. “Will you be okay here with your friend until then?”

I nod quickly and rest my head on Spencer’s shoulder. If he weren’t here to help me through all of this, I’d probably shut down completely. As soon as she leaves us alone in my living room to go to the kitchen where another officer is standing, Spencer kisses the top of my head.

“You almost had me convinced,” he murmurs low enough for only me to hear.

“About?”

“Dempsey being your boyfriend.”

I stiffen. My first urge is to deny knowing what he’s talking about, but the jig is up. He and Dempsey both witnessed Callum’s rage on my behalf. A man doesn’t turn so feral to protect a woman like that unless he’s madly in love with her.

“It just sort of happened,” I whisper. “I love him.”

We both know I’m not talking about Dempsey.

“You’re eighteen, though, right?” Spencer asks. “I don’t get all the secrecy.”

“His position,” I say with a sigh. “It could be twisted to make him seem like a predator.”

“He’s a Park. We’re all predators.”

I crack a smile, but it quickly falls. “I don’t want him to lose his job, or worse yet, go to jail.”

“Hmph.”

“We were just trying to wait until I graduated,” I explain. “Then…”

“Then what?”

“Then, I guess, we were going to see each other proudly and unafraid of what others would think.”

He starts to speak again, but the front door opens. I jolt at the abrupt intrusion, ready to run if it’s Levi, and then relax at seeing my mother.

“My baby,” Mom cries out, rushing over to me. “Oh my God.”

She drops to the sofa beside me, prying me from Spencer’s grip to pull me into her loving arms. For a moment, I’m six years old and letting my mom comfort me after a nightmare. I cling to her shirt and sob against her neck. She whispers assurances, stroking my hair.

It’s like old times.

“Where is my son?”

The warmth flooding through me is snuffed out as the chill of Darren’s voice sweeps over me. I’m reminded Mom chose Darren over me. She married a man I knew she never really loved and let me fend for myself for years, alone and terrified.