Watching her now, I knew I’d been wrong. Even when Nate’s sisters were angry enough to murder each other, I’d never seen either of them shake in fear. There was something else going on here.

“Come on, babe, talk to me.” I forced my voice to be soft, comforting. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Blue eyes filled with tears. Shit. I could handle anything but tears. When one slipped out, racing down her cheek, I caught it with my thumb. Before I could lean in and kiss her, she closed her eyes. Inhaling a long, deep breath, she stood still for a second.

She opened them as she exhaled, a determined look taking over her features. “It’s fine.” She reached up and squeezed my wrist. “They’re probably watching us. And waiting out here won’t make her go away, it’ll only delay the inevitable. We need to go in.”

Work mode took over. I watched her for a moment, trying to read her. Above all else, it was my job to keep her from unsafe situations. This didn’t feel right, and it hadn’t since I’d seen the truck. I had no problem picking her up, locking her ass in the Suburban, and marching into the house to grab our shit. I would do whatever I needed to. But this was her family and I didn’t want to take her away from a situation she could handle.

“You good?”

She nodded, taking another deep breath and giving me the fakest smile I’d ever seen on her lips. “I will be.”

I nodded, turning back around, and grabbed her wet shirt from her hands. “I’ve got your back, kid.”

“You always do.”

To my surprise, there wasn’t anyone waiting for us on the porch. There were voices coming from the kitchen, but when they heard the door close, it became eerily silent. A chair scraped against the floor, and then a teenager came barreling into the hall.

“Auntie?”

For the first time since she’d seen the truck, Molly relaxed beside me, stopping and opening her arms. “Ruthie?” She sounded surprised. “Mom’s sent me pictures, but oh, wow!” She laughed as the girl threw her arms around her and they hugged each other tight. This was not the welcoming that I had envisioned, and I leaned against the wall, relaxing a bit. “You grew up!”

Ruthie leaned back, beaming down at Molly. “It’s been a long time. I missed you, Aunt Molly.”

“That’s not her name!” The harsh tone of the woman standing in the kitchen door was such a contrast to the happy reunion in front of me that I stood, putting myself between Molly and the intruder. “Ruth Anne, come back here.”

“Mom! I—”

Mols cut the teen off, laying a hand on her arm. “It’s okay. We’ll catch up later.” Stepping next to me, she nodded at the woman glaring in our direction. “Hello, Roxy.”

“Roxanne,” the woman corrected, ice in her tone. There was no smile from this woman, no welcome at all. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I came to see Mom.”

“Sure you did.” Roxanne laughed bitterly, stepping into the light of the hall window, allowing me to see her better. She didn’t resemble Molly at all. At least 5’11”, she was heavyset with plain features, her long dark brown hair streaked with gray. “You needed a place to hide, and our poor mother was the only person left you could take advantage of. You know you aren’t supposed to be here. It upsets her.”

“My relationship with our mother is none of your business.” Molly straightened, pulling herself up to her full height, all five and a half feet of it. “You should go. It’s getting late.”

“Actually, it is my business. Mom is old, in case you didn’t notice while you were off boozing your way around the country. I’m her power of attorney. You will not talk to my mother again without me being present.” Stepping closer, Roxanne only smiled. A sinister, evil smile. Pointing to the floor next to the hall table, she sneered. “But you’re right. It is late. Time for you to get your ass back on the road and disappear again. This time, don’t come back.”

I glanced sideways, noticing our bags for the first time. The fucking bitch was not kicking Molly out of her own house. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

“Get out of my house, Roxy.” The voice didn’t even sound like Molly.

“You gonna have your guard dog remove me?” Roxanne only laughed again as she pointed at me before narrowing her eyes at Mols. “This isn’t your house. It never was. It was, and still is, my father’s house. He would have disowned your spoiled ass if he’d been alive. Thank God he was in the grave long before he could witness what a whore his little girl turned out to be.”

“Mom!” Ruth gasped.

“I’m not doing this with you, Rox. You need to leave.” Molly’s voice had started to waiver.

“You really think that because you fucked your way to Nashville, and then convinced your sugar daddy to bail my mother out, that you own this house?” She shook her head, dark hair flying wildly. “That’s amusing, really. Let’s see the paperwork saying it’s yours. A title. A deed.” She paused, tapping her finger against her lips. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t have anything. Nothing here is yours. Nothing. Any money you gave her was what you already owed her, you ungrateful little bitch.”

Molly surprisingly remained calm, even though I could see her pulse beating wildly. She could stay calm because I was angry enough for the both of us. “You really want to do this in front of your daughter? You want to be that kind of mom?”

Roxanne stepped closer, her face hard, eyes sparkling with hatred, making me want to shove her away from my girl.

I stepped closer. “Back away from her, now.”

She waved me off, attention solely on the woman next to me. “Are you calling me a bad mother? You?” She spit when she talked, infuriating me even more. My fingers curled, needing to pick her up and set her out on her ass. This wasn’t my battle, but I sure as shit was going to make it mine if she didn’t shut the fuck up. And soon.

“Roxy.” The warning came from Mrs. Davis, who had finally made an appearance.

She didn’t listen. “I didn’t sell my son to the highest bidder so I could run off and chase my pathetic dreams.” Her words made Molly recoil as if she’d been slapped. “Do you even know where your child is, Georgeanne? Do you even know what he looks like? Or what he sounds like when he calls for you?”

“Stop, Mom!” Ruth pulled on her mother, tugging her back.

“Roxanne.” Mrs. Davis had come into the hall, invading my space as she tried to reach her daughters.

Roxanne didn’t listen, screaming over them, “You think the entire world owes you something, you always have. No one owes you a thing. You aren’t special. You are a whore who has to fuck married men”—she pointed at me—“or pay men to be with you, because no one else wants you. You’re a shitty mother who gave away her son so she could party and drink and become a mediocre singer. You’re a horrible daughter who constantly breaks her mother’s heart. You’re ugly and evil, and no matter how many times you stick your finger down your throat, how many pounds you lose, or how many tattoos you cover yourself with, you’re still going to be that fat fucking ugly loser who will never be anything but a disappointment to her family. This isn’t your home. This is a place where everyone wishes you’d never been born.”

When I saw the first tear drop down Molly’s cheek, I moved without thinking. Grabbing her sister by the arms, I half-lifted, half-dragged her to the door. She struggled, smacking my face, trying to head-butt me, nails digging into my arms, kicking out at Molly on her way by. I ignored it all. When we got to the stairs, I put her down rougher than I should have and gave her a shove, making her stumble into the driveway.

Yanking a cell phone out of her pocket, she screamed, “I’m calling the police. That’s assault. After the little stunt you two pulled last night, I’m sure the police would love to talk to you!” I shut the door, turning back into the house.