Page 78 of Into the Woods

Until my mom stepped in after King’s death. Her father had been an attorney, like her, and had crafted an iron-clad prenup for my parents. Mom threatened to expose Dad’s cheating and enact the prenup, which would’ve left him with absolutely nothing.

He countered that she’d been just as unfaithful, to which Mom reminded him she had plenty of money, for her and I to live on, in accounts in the Caymans, plus I would come into parts of my massive trust fund when I hit certain age milestones—sixteen, eighteen, and twenty-one. It was enough money that my great-grandkids were set for life.

But of course Dad would wait for Mom to be gone to make me go. I should’ve known something was up when Dad suggested Mom and Mrs. Whittier should go on a weekend trip because Mrs. Whittier needed a break. I’d even told her that I’d make sure to check on Becca while she was gone.

“I can’t,” I told him, my stubbornness and fear mixing together into something that felt a lot like denial. This wasn’t happening, and maybe if I ignored him, he would forget.

“Court.”

Something in his tone made me stop. It was almost like he was… happy?

Frowning, I looked back and, yeah, he was fucking smiling.

An uneasy feeling twisted in my gut. It was the smile he wore when he was about to beat me at chess. The smile he wore when he had someone backed into a corner and knew he was about to win.

“Come down here, son,” he beckoned, waving a hand.

“Dad—”

“I promise you’ll want to see this,” he vowed, still grinning. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

I took a step forward and stopped, narrowing my eyes. “I’m not playing your games.”

“Aren’t you?” He lifted a quizzical brow. “I tell you what—I bet that you’ll be on your way to the airstrip in the next ten minutes.”

I frowned. “I’m not going, Dad. Mom said, remember? You can’t make me.”

“And you, son, are entirely too predictable,” he mused, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. His eyes glittered as they looked up at me. “What’s rule number one, Court?”

My dad had a lot of rules that he’d drilled into my head, but I knew instantly which one he was talking about.

The more you have to love, the more you have to lose.

His smile widened. “Nine minutes.”

“Who?” I breathed the question, fear spiking in me. Was it one of my brothers? Mom? Linc, Ryan or Ash?

“Come and see,” he entreated, holding the phone out to me.

I wanted to be strong, to tell him to fuck off, but I wasn’t the monster he was. I cared about people. Loved people. And if he hurt one of them because of me?

I thundered down the steps and swiped the phone, expecting to see my mom or one of my best friends tied up.

My heart stopped beating at the tiny form in the middle of a cabin. Tears streaked her cheeks, her big hazel eyes wide as they looked around the small room in desperation and terror.

“Becca?” I croaked.

“Well, since your mother and Mrs. Whittier decided to take a break, I told Mr. Whittier that you and I would take Becca camping to our cabin this weekend so she can have a little vacation, too.”

All I could do was gape at him and then stare back at Becca. My Becca. She was so scared and all alone.

Dad’s hand came down heavy on my shoulder, drawing me closer. “There’s one small complication,” he said, almost sadly.

I looked up at him, my vision blurring from rage. I’d never hated him more than I did in this moment.

Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out an orange bottle of pills. He gave a soft sigh. “It seems we forgot her meds.”

Horror curdled in my stomach as my vision tunneled. No, no. Becca needed those meds. It was the only thing giving her a fighting shot against the cancer that was ravaging her tiny body.

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