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No. Won’t happen. No father could kill his own child.

Except…

The blood in my veins turns to ice.

Maybe my father already did kill his child.

Maybe he’s responsible for Joey’s death.

And if so?

I can kiss my dreams—my life—goodbye.

27

MILES

Thank fuck.

Sadie’s car is in her father’s driveway.

Surely there’s an explanation for the text—the unfinished one—she sent.

A patrol car is parked in front of the house from the frantic 911 call I made on the road. Two officers are seated inside.

I exit my vehicle and walk to the patrol car. “I’m Miles Bridger, the guy who called. Did you find anything, Officer?”

The blue in the driver’s seat shakes his head. “The only one home is a woman named Lorraine Thompson. She says nothing’s out of the ordinary.”

“My girlfriend was here earlier. This is her father’s place.”

“Yes, Ms. Thompson said your girlfriend was here and took her to lunch earlier. But she left.”

I point to the driveway. “But that’s her car. Her VW Beetle.”

“Right. Ms. Thompson said Ms. Hopkins’s car wouldn’t start, so she called an Uber to take her home and said she’d arrange for the car to be towed later.”

I rake my fingers through my hair. “And you believe all this crap?”

“Not really, sir, but we can’t go into the house without probable cause.”

“I can.” I stalk toward the door.

“Sir? You can be arrested for trespassing.”

“Do I look like I care? My woman’s inside that house somewhere. And I’m going to find her. By the way, the woman I’m looking for is one of your own. A cop.”

I stomp through the front door, not even attempting to knock. “Rainey? Where the fuck are you?”

Rainey emerges from the kitchen in a cloud of smoke, a cigarette dangling between her fingers. “Hey there, stud.”

I stop a few feet away from her, setting my hands on my hips. “Don’t give me that shit. Where’s Sadie?”

“I already explained everything to the cops.”

“Yeah, and it’s all a bald-faced lie. Where is she?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? She’s not—”