Chapter 1 - The Morning Her Father Came Through the Door
Damon had a fist twisted into Blythe’s braid when Ellis Mercer pushed open the bedroom door.
Three days after giving birth, Blythe was still wearing the faded lavender hospital shirt she had slept in. Her wristband remained around one narrow wrist because she had been too exhausted to cut it off.
Damon dragged her backward across the carpet.
“Damon, stop—”
Her shoulder struck the bedroom doorframe.
She dropped to one knee.
Arlo’s cry rose from the bassinet beside the bed.
Damon turned toward the sound with a look Blythe had never seen before.
“I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since you brought that kid home!”
He reached for the swaddled newborn.
Blythe moved before her body could remind her what childbirth had done to it.
She caught Damon’s arm as he jerked Arlo downward.
“STOP! He’s only three days old!”
Damon shoved her.
The side of Blythe’s head struck the carpeted floor.
Arlo remained wrapped against her chest as she curled around him.
Then the bedroom door slammed against the wall.
Ellis stood there holding a small baby gift bag.
It fell from his hand.
“GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER.”
Damon turned.
Ellis crossed the room.
The first punch landed high on Damon’s torso.
The second drove him sideways.
The third caught his shoulder as he tried to regain balance.
The fourth struck his jaw.
The fifth knocked him backward against the padded edge of the bed.
Ellis stopped.
Immediately.
He turned away from Damon and crouched beside Blythe.
“Can you stand?”
She nodded, although she wasn’t sure.
Ellis helped her rise while she held Arlo against her chest.
Behind them, Damon pushed himself upright.
Ellis looked over his shoulder.
His voice became frighteningly calm.
“Your own mother reported your abuse. Wait for the police.”
Damon’s face lost its rage.
Not gradually.
Instantly.
Blythe noticed.
So did Ellis.
Damon looked toward the hallway as though calculating whether he could reach the stairs before anyone stopped him.
Blythe tightened her arms around Arlo.
“His mother?”
Damon said nothing.
Blythe’s pulse pounded.
Damon’s mother, Loretta, had barely spoken to her throughout the pregnancy.
She had declined the baby shower.
She had not visited the hospital.
She had sent one text after Arlo was born:
Take care of yourself.
Blythe had assumed Loretta disliked her.
Now her father was telling her Loretta had reported Damon.
Ellis stepped between Damon and the doorway.
From downstairs came the distant sound of approaching sirens.
Blythe looked at her husband.
For the first time, Damon was not watching her.
He was staring at the hospital wristband around her arm.
May you like
And the terror on his face made Blythe understand something worse than the attack itself.
There was a reason he had not wanted anyone to know she was home.
