Page 142 of Edge of Unbroken

“Of course it fucking worked.”

“Of course it did. You do sound a lot like your dad.”

“Yeah?” No one has ever told me I resemble my dad in any way. Most everyone comments on how much I look like my mom. Needless to say, it irks me. Steve was the one who inherited my dad’s most dominant features—the dark hair and eyes. I’m lighter than them; my eyes are the exact same shade of green as my mother’s, and when I was really little my hair was the blondest damn blond—just like my mom’s. It’s darkened as I got older, but it’s still not dark enough if you ask me. And I hate it.

“Yeah. Man, your dad picked up some takeout from Murphy’s one night while you were gone and when I heard him talk to Jack, I thought for a second it was you. But it’s not just your voice; you look a lot like him, too. You have the same jawline.”

I smile. The thought that I don’t take after my mother entirely is comforting. And then I chuckle. “Speaking of my dad”—I shake my head— “I accidentally walked in on him and Penny today.”

Shane’s mouth drops open. “Like,walked inwalked in?”

I nod. “When I got back from the gym. In my defense, I wasn’t expecting them to be getting it on in the damn kitchen. At eleven o’clock in the morning.”

“Oh shit.” Shane laughs so loudly, I feel it reverberating in my chest. “Did they notice you?”

“No. The second I realized what the fuck I had just witnessed, I walked back out. I suddenly needed to get some groceries really badly,” I say and join in his laughter.

It was such an awkward moment. I obviously knew being back home and having Penny live with us would take some getting used to, but this sure as hell wasn’t something I ever anticipated. I’d never witnessed my dad be super affectionate with my mother. They’d hug, sure, give each other the occasional kiss when Steve and I were around, but it was never anything like my dad acts around Penny, and definitely not… kitchen sex in the middle of the damn day.

“Man, your poor dad,” Shane says, struggling to compose himself. The image in his head of me catching my dad quite literally with his pants down is apparently pretty fucking funny.

“My poor dad?” I ask him incredulously. “I was the one who wanted to jam a screwdriver into my eye sockets after that, whereas my dad is, like, blissfully unaware.”

“Yeah but think about it. He’s probably about as used to you and Stevie being around all the damn time as you are to having your dad home. He has so much less privacy now. He and Penny probably had sex wherever whenever when he lived in Virginia.”

He has a point, I guess. “Man, let’s just hope he gets used to less privacy quickly, because I’m not sure I’m up for walking in on something like that again,” I groan.

“I mean, maybe he doesn’t have to,” Shane says with a slight shrug.

“Why?”

“Well, Stevie’s for sure moving up to Boston soon, right? Now that you’re back.”

“Uh, yeah, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be at Columbia.”

“Yeah, so… you know, I still have that extra room available at my apartment…” He trails off without looking at me.

“Want me to send my dad and Penny to come live with you?” I ask with a shit-eating grin that Shane readily returns.

“That’sexactlywhat I was getting at,” he says and chuckles. “But seriously, you know my search for a roomie was totally fake, right?” He slows the Jeep across the street from the softball field, looking for a place to park.

I snort a laugh. “You don’t say. Did you really think I wasn’t picking up on what you were putting down?” Of course I knew Shane was hoping I’d eventually be his roomie—he’s dropped enough hints, after all—but even if I had wanted to, moving in with him obviously wasn’t really an option.

“I thought I was being pretty fucking sly about the whole thing,” Shane says.

He continues talking, but his words no longer register. I see movement all the way on the other side of the street and across the perfectly manicured lawn leading to the softball field. It takes me only a fraction of a second to realize what it is I’m looking at.

I spot Vada on the ground and an imposing figure standing right in front of Cat, whose face has drained of all color. I only see the guy from the back, but I instinctively know who it is. My blood runs cold.Fuck, baby, why aren’t you running? RUN!

The rush of adrenaline shuts down all rational thought. My left hand unbuckles my seatbelt while the right is already shoving the passenger door open.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Shane shouts, grabbing at my sweater when I make to step out of his still-moving car.

I yank my arm out of Shane’s hold and only manage to growl a single word: “Adam!” Then I jump out of the Jeep.

Cat

I knew this moment would come. I knew I’d see Adam again, that I wasn’t rid of him. I had known for a long time. And I’ve tried to prepare myself emotionally so that when this moment came, I wouldn’t do what I had always done whenever Adam became violent or threatened me: freeze. Soldiers train for these kinds of scenarios, as do police officers and other first responders. They practice for situations that are guaranteed to activate their fight-or-flight response—or in my case, the freeze response—so they’ll be able to think rationally and do what they’re required to do.

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