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“I did not, absolutely not, have any kind of personal relationship with you at your father’s behest.” He hadn’t been asked to speak yet, but there was no keeping that one down.

With an eyebrow raised, Chantel glanced at him. The retribution he expected for his outburst didn’t come, though. She looked back at Miranda without saying a word.

Miranda did, though. Glaring at him, she asked, “Did he let you know that it would be okay with him if you did?”

His answer was his silence. And with sickness spreading through him, he thought of all the information he’d fed the man over the months he’d been in town. All the little tidbits that would reveal his daughter’s current state.

“My father knew I’d fall for Tad,” she said, turning back to Chantel. “The plan would be to let me fall in love, to think I’d finally found happiness, only to let me know that it was all his idea, his plan. That he’d been the one to pick my man for me. To show me that he’s in control of my life even now.”

Tad wanted to blurt out a denia

l. To prove she was wrong.

He couldn’t do that when his instincts were telling him she was right. He’d been played. Thoroughly and completely played.

“Girls usually go for men like their daddies. They don’t mean to, don’t necessarily even want to, but it’s human nature. And human nature is his biggest tool. He knows when and how to cash in on it. Probably helps him save lives.”

Because every side had its opposite. Good versus bad. And bad versus good, as well.

“He wants me to know I can’t run. I can’t hide. And if I’m ever going to be really happy, I need him to watch out for me. His end goal is that I’ll feel I have to come home, so I’ll bring my son to him. That’s who he really wants. Ethan.”

She shuddered, and Tad could only imagine what she was remembering. But he was fully confident that whatever it was had to do with the reason she’d run. Whatever final catalyst had prompted her to never let her father near Ethan.

“He truly believes in his own power over others and in his ability to control the world,” she said. “In North Carolina, he pretty much is that powerful. He’s revered, and it sticks because he’s earned the reverence. Everything his admirers know him to be is true. But it’s created a man who thinks he’s invincible. And that’s your biggest challenge. He’ll do things you wouldn’t expect anyone to try. And he’ll succeed.”

“Not this time,” Tad said. He was going to see the man stopped if he had to give his own life up to do it. If that meant shooting him in cold blood and spending the rest of his life in prison, so be it.

* * *

Miranda couldn’t remember when she’d ever felt so tired. Bone-deep, just “lie down and go to sleep” exhausted. Being unconscious for an indeterminate amount of time sounded good.

But she knew she wasn’t going to be sleeping anytime soon.

The minute they got Ethan to her, she’d look for her chance to get away. She’d find a “vacation” spot for them until she could figure out the next move. She just needed him to arrive safely.

Talking about her father had reminded her all over again that Chantel, the High Risk Team, Santa Raquel—they couldn’t save her from him. Legally, he’d done nothing wrong. Finding her—there was nothing preventing him from doing so. No restraining order. No charges to file. There’d never been a single police report. The broken bones over the years had all been readily explained away as accidents. A lot of kids had bumps and bruises along the way. For the most part, the chief had made certain that hers didn’t show.

Except the summer she’d kissed a boy on her father’s front porch. Then, he’d just suggested she stay inside until she healed. And she had.

Even if he was in town now, had been watching her, which she was certain of now that she knew Tad had turned him on to her, they couldn’t arrest him. He’d broken no laws.

He was simply letting her know that she belonged to him. That he could always get to her. That he wanted her back, out of possessiveness, control, vindictiveness. But mostly because he wanted Ethan. The son he’d never had. The son she should have been. The wonder was that it had taken six years...

Because he wanted her to think he’d changed? Had given her a cooling-off time? She might never know the reason, but she was certain he had one. And that it had to do with her doing what he wanted.

The whole thing made her sick to her stomach. Ethan should be there any minute. She’d rest better with her hands on his bony little shoulders.

“How certain are you that O’Connor’s in town?” Chantel asked Tad.

“I’m not. I’ve had a colleague of mine, my partner, Gail Winton, checking up on him.” Tad’s words brought her gaze to him. He’d had doubts?

And how close was he to this Gail?

Were they lovers?

She wanted to ask, to distract herself, but knew she’d come across sounding like a crazy woman.

And it didn’t matter, she told herself firmly. Tad Newberry wasn’t who she’d thought he was. He’d used her...

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