“Well, I’m not just leaving you here to deal with—”

“I have you,” Knox said, having heard everything.

Dad stopped. “Who was that?”

I swallowed thickly. I didn’t want to have to explain this over the phone, but I also would never be ashamed of the man standing in front of me. “It’s Knox, Dad. Knox Alexander.”

“Why would—is this his phone you called from?”

“Yes.”

“You’re going to explain yourself,” he said suddenly. “You’re going to have a lot to explain.”

“I understand, but right now I just need you to believe me, and do what I said.”

“Your mom is already on it. How do we get ahold of you if we need you?”

“My phone,” Knox answered.

Another pause, then my dad said, “I’m going to have a talk with that man. For now, tell him to keep you safe.”

“He will, Dad. I love you, and I’m so sorry.”

“If what you’re saying is true . . . well, I think we’re the ones who have to apologize for not seeing it. Love you, too, baby girl.”

A sharp sob burst from my chest when I ended the call, and I fell into Knox’s waiting arms.

“They’re going to be fine,” he assured me, but he couldn’t know.

Collin might not have been in the hospital room, but none of us knew where he was right now. I just nodded and let Knox lead me over to the bed. I crawled in when he pulled back the covers, and let my eyes follow him as he walked around the room to put on a pair of boxer briefs and toss our old clothes into a hamper. Once he was done, he flipped off the light and climbed in beside me. As gently as possible, he wrapped me in his arms, and I rested my head on his bicep when he pressed his body against mine.

“I’ve got you, Low. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

“To the stars,” I vowed, and let my heavy eyelids close.

Chapter 19

Knox

Present Day—Thatch

“SEATTLE?” I ASKED, and suppressed a groan as I glanced over my shoulder to where Harlow had been sleeping for the last few hours. Seattle was more than three hours from Richland. “Couldn’t you go to the airport in Walla Walla? It’s barely an hour from the hospital.”

Harlow’s dad sighed, and the sound let me know exactly how much this day had been weighing on him. I knew how he felt. “We couldn’t get out on a flight until six tomorrow morning. There are flights that leave Seattle tonight just after ten P.M., and another just before eleven P.M. if we don’t make that one.” He paused for a moment, then said, “If what Harlow told us is true—”

“It is,” I growled, my anger with their whole family apparent in those two words. I’d known within seconds of seeing Harlow that something was gravely wrong with her. I’d noticed Collin’s fascination with pressure points within minutes of seeing them together . . . and her family had been blind to all of it. If they hadn’t, Harlow wouldn’t have always been worried about their safety, and she could’ve worried about her own long before it had gotten to this point. “I’ve seen it happen,” I added, and heard him choke back a cry.

“Then . . . then Seattle was the right move. I need to get my family out of here tonight. I couldn’t risk waiting until tomorrow.”

“You’re right,” I murmured, but didn’t add that Seattle might be the place Collin expected them to go back to. I didn’t need to add any more fear. “What time will you be landing?”

“If we make the first flight, just after nine A.M. If we don’t, then not until sometime after noon.”

“All right. Call me as soon as you land, or if anything happens before.”

He didn’t respond, but I knew he was still there. Just when I was about to ask if he’d heard me, he whispered, “Why is my daughter with you?”

“Should I assume you mean physically, right now?”

Harlow’s dad cleared his throat. “Right this moment, that is what I mean. After you answer that, we might get into the rest.”

“She’s here because it’s where she should be—where she always should have been—and because I’m the one who’s going to make sure Collin never touches her again.”

When her dad spoke again, I instantly recognized the I’m-the-father-she’s-my-baby-girl tone he was giving me—it was the same one I’d gotten when I’d asked him if I could marry Harlow years ago—but there was a hint of respect in his voice as well. “Now just how long has this been going on between the two of you?”

“Seven years,” I said immediately, and without hesitation.

“Seven years?” he yelled, the respect now gone. “Young man, you have a hell of a lot to—”

“Mr. Evans,” I began, cutting him off. “I ran into Harlow just over two weeks ago. That was the first I’d seen or heard from her in over four and a half years. But I never once stopped loving her or thinking about her in all that time. These past two weeks have consisted of her trying to hide what her husband has been doing to her, and me doing everything to help her—even though the idea of anyone helping her has terrified her. Please understand that I say this with as much respect as I still hold for you—which right now isn’t much because I hate that you never noticed what was happening to your own daughter,” I seethed. “Not that I will ever talk to you about our romantic relationship, but neither Harlow nor I have anything to answer for when it comes to us. Having said that, we’ve always meant something to each other throughout the past seven years.”

Silence stretched on for long minutes, but given how I’d just laid everything out, I expected him to be even more upset with me than he already was, so I let him have his time with his thoughts. He sounded worn out again when he finally spoke. “If you weren’t right, I wouldn’t let you speak to me that way.” He exhaled heavily and began speaking before he was done. “I always wondered what happened to you. My wife and I—well, we always thought it would be you.”

“Me?” I asked incredulously. “You were the one who made me promise to push her into enjoying a life away from me when she left for college. If you hadn’t, we probably wouldn’t have spent years without each other. She wouldn’t—” I cut myself off before I could say any more, but it was clear where I’d been going with that. If I hadn’t agreed to his conditions, Harlow probably would have never had to feel the pain Collin had inflicted.