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By the time she reached the front door, her hand was shaking. As she pulled it open, she found a guy with a bicycle helmet on smiling at her.
“Violet Douglas?”
“Yes, can I help you?”
“Here you go.” The guy held out an envelope to her, and she took it.
“What is this?”
“You’ve been served. Have a good day.”
Served? Like court papers served?
In a panic, Violet ripped into the envelope and pulled out the folded papers. Her knees threatened to collapse under her weight as her eyes scanned the court document.
She didn’t even hear Dean come up beside her. “What is it?”
Her chest was so tight she could hardly breathe, let alone speak. For the first time in years she had been happy, had pushed everything to the back of her mind as she’d gotten caught up in Dean.
Just like the first time they’d met.
Now, here they were again: Violet’s world crumbling around her because she’d ignored a problem, and Dean standing next to her, witnessing it.
“My . . . my father. He wants his parental rights reinstated.”
“I didn’t know he was back.”
Violet’s gaze shot up. “I didn’t know I had to tell you.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I’m just a little surprised you didn’t, especially if you were worried about this. Did you have his rights terminated?”
“When I petitioned to be their guardian, I had to prove him unfit. Between the three of us, and his criminal record, the judge ruled in my favor, but . . . ”
“But what, Violet?”
Her father was taking her to court. He was trying to take Casey from her.
Her breathing shallow and fast, she started to sway.
Dean scooped her up and closed the door with his foot. He carried her to the couch and sat down with her in his lap, stroking her hair and murmuring. Violet buried her face in his neck, soaking up the comfort he offered.
“It’s going to be okay. You’ll see. You have done a fantastic job with Casey—”
Violet jerked back with a laugh. “You mean letting him get arrested?”
“Every kid has issues, even those with two parents.”
“But we’re not talking about them. Who knows what he’ll tell them about—” Violet snapped her mouth shut.
“About what?”
Violet had only ever told Tracy the truth about the night her father had attacked Casey, as she was afraid of the memories. Of the fear and the rage that had coursed through her body, of wondering if she’d had one more bullet, if he hadn’t stopped hurting Casey . . . would she have killed her own father?
He opened up to you. If he loves you, he’ll understand.
“I know you’ve read Casey’s file, so you know what my mother did and that I found her.” Just talking about it conjured up the image, and she winced. “And that I raised Daisy and Casey while my dad got high all the time.” Dean nodded encouragingly, and Violet took a deep breath. “But we lied when we told the courts that he just took off. I . . . I threatened him.”
“What do you mean?” Dean asked.
