Page 121 of Love Takes Home

“What did you do for her?” Davis asks, calmer now.

“I helped her legally change her name and get a new ID.”

“Legally?”

“Everything I do is legal, son. But I know the right people to make the information incredibly hard to find if someone goes looking.”

“Like an abusive father or spouse.”

Mr. Mills nods. “I got her in touch with someone in her family that had been cut off from her and helped them work out the next steps to get temporary custody. Then I took her to the store and got her some clothes and a new backpack, purchased her a plane ticket, and took her to the airport.”

“I didn’t know,” Davis quietly admits.

“You jumped to the worse conclusion. You accused me of being a monster.”

“Why did you hide it from me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to jump to the conclusions you jumped to when I tried to tell you the first time. It was easier to stay away from you and still be in your life than risk losing you completely.”

Davis looks devastated, and I can tell he’s rethinking everything he thinks he knows about his life.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Ginny asks him. “Do you think Dad would have let you join the fucking FBI if he were doing something illegal? I cannot believe you thought he would do something. God, Davis, sometimes you’re really stupid.”

“Why are you in such a good mood?” Davis asks her, rolling his eyes.

“I’m tired.”

Both her dad and Davis look closely at her. I can tell the minute they register what I’ve noticed every day this week. The dark circles under her eyes, the paleness of her skin, how her hair is limper than normal, even with daily showers. Her cheeks are a little sunken, even though she’s been eating.

“Why are you so tired? You’re not getting up for work, right?” Davis finally asks.

She looks at me. “Tell them, or I will. They need to know, and you need to let them in.”

She flips me off, but there’s no umph behind the finger. “I’ve been having nightmares.”

Her father tenses and his face loses some of its color. Davis looks like he might be sick. Obviously they both know what this means.

“Again?” her dad finally asks.

She nods, avoiding eye contact.

“You’ve been having nightmares. Or more like night terrors. Screaming that doesn’t stop and you can’t be woken up?”

“Yeah.”

“Like after New York,” Davis clarifies. “Have you had them since then?”

“Yes, and no. The ones I had after New York went away. I started having them again after everything happened at your house.”

I remember her telling me about the nightmares she has now. She let me in and kept them out. Why?

“That was more than two years ago, Virginia!” Davis says, his voice rising.

“You need to calm down,” I growl at him. “Or I’m going to make you leave.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” her dad asks quietly.

“For the same reason I kept things from everyone. I didn’t want the judgement or pity. The obsession over my protection. I didn’t want you to think you had to keep treating me like a baby, that I couldn’t take care of myself. I wanted to handle it on my own.”

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