Page 48 of Breaking Point

I drop my fork, frustrated because it’s clear that if things go his way, we won’t talk at all. “Dad, are we going to talk about what happened?”

He shrugs, adjusting his glasses as he leans back to look at me. “Let’s talk.”

“Someone broke in and almost killed my cat.”

“You didn’t tell me someone was leaving you letters.”

“I thought they were harmless,” I defend, but I shake my head as I center myself. “Someone attacks you at the train station and now someone’s leaving letters and breaking into my place. You really think that’s just a coincidence?”

“Well, you are my daughter,” he guffaws, louder this time. “I told you before I hired Warden that people are crazy! They’ll do whatever it takes to have we have have-“

“They didn’ttakeanything though, did they, Dad?”

“Olivia!” he shouts, and I flinch. It’s the only time he’s ever raised his voice at me. He sighs, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose. He continues, softer, “I don’t mean to yell. I just… You are so important to me. I don’t…” he shakes his head sadly, and a pang of guilt hits me. “I don’t know why it happened. But I promise… I’m doing everything I can to fix this.”

None of it makes any sense, but through my confusion I know a few things: I know I want to believe my dad. I want to trust him. I want to feel safe. Because I just don’t understand why he’d feel the need to lie.

Despite my push-back, he’s doing everything he can. My own stubbornness, my own pride, has only made that harder. Iwas the one who didn’t move in. I was the one who didn’t want the bodyguards.

“I love you, you know that?” he mutters, and with the wet sheen to his eyes, I can’t help but wonder if since Mom passed, keeping my distance has made things worse. “Everything I’ve done… I’ve done to keep you safe.”

I don’t stop myself from standing and rounding the island to wrap my arms around him. I hug him tight, and when I feel him sniffle against my hair, I only squeeze tighter, pouring everything I can’t say into him. “I love you too.”

When he draws back and wipes a single tear away, he smiles as he adjusts his glasses. “Let’s just… Let’s finish dinner. Okay?”

“Okay,” I agree, and despite the fact that Crew can probably hear our conversation through the paper thin walls, I do my best to put on a brave face.

I’ll deal with everything else as it comes.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Crew

Skar’s distracted today. He circles me in the ring, hair slick with sweat as he searches for a way to take me down. He aims for my legs, nearly knocking me back, but I see the attack and easily use the momentum to knock him over, pinning him to the mat.

Fighting has always felt natural to me. It doesn’t matter how many years I’ve spent learning to do otherwise- or how much I’ve tried to control my anger. Every time I’m back in the rink, it’s the same thrill as the first time.

He coughs at the impact, rolling onto his back and lifting a hand so I can yank him up. “I’m out,” he pants, and I smirk as I walk to the edge of the mat and tear a towel out of my bag.

I drag the material over my face. The rickety fan rattles as it swings above us, blowing small puffs of hot air every few swings. Just like every summer.

“You’re quiet today,” he comments, and my eyes find him as I reach for my water and swallow down a couple of pulls.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” I say, rolling my neck.

“Have you decided whether or not you’ll stay with the Hughes?”

I hate that the memory of Olivia last night is my first thought. I hate that the thought of our coffee and breakfast routine comes next.

It shouldn’t.

Sheshouldn’t.

Downing my water, I do my best to let the thoughts in my head eddy away. “No,” I say. “I still have to talk to Taylor.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “How is Josie?”

“She’s a shorter, more stubborn version of you,” he snorts with a laugh. “Viserion is safe without you. Quit worrying.”

He crosses the gym toward the mini fridge before tossing a chilled bottle of water my way. I catch it easily, pressing the cool surface to my face.

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