Bitter Sweet Heart (Lies, Hearts & Truths #2)(115)

My dad is sitting in one of the too-small-for-his-frame chairs when we step out of the exam room. He pushes out of his seat. His hair is a mess, like his hand has been in it a bunch. “Are you two okay?” His gaze shifts from me to Clover and back.

“It’s all surface wounds.” I repeat the words Clover keeps giving me, as if they’re somehow going to dampen the fears that continue to claw their way up from the box of memories I don’t want anymore.

He looks at Clover. “Kody and BJ told me what happened. If it’s all right, it’d make me feel a lot better if the two of you came home with me.”

“That would be great.” She squeezes my hand.

The twenty-five-minute ride from the clinic to my parents’ place in Lake Geneva is quiet. I sit in the back with Clover. The adrenaline has likely long worn off, but I can feel the nervous energy seeping out of her.

I press my lips to her temple. “It’s okay. My dad is on our side, and my mom is in New York with my sister.” I know she’s the one Clover is most worried about, and the last thing she needs is more stress after what happened tonight. My phone is blowing up with messages in my group chat with Kody and BJ. I fire one off to let them know we’re fine and we’re going back to my parents’ place. I wish Kody luck tomorrow and thank them both for having my back.

We pull into the driveway, and I help Clover out of the truck. The stiffness and aches are starting to set in, based on the tentative way she moves. Once we’re inside, I offer to make her a cup of tea.

Clover gives me a tremulous smile. “That would be good, I think.”

“Do you want to sit in the living room while I make it, or do you want to stay in the kitchen with me?”

“I’d like to stay with you, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah. Of course.” I guide her to one of the bar stools at the kitchen island and help her up, then grab a thin blanket from the living room and drape it over her shoulders. Her cardigan went into the trash at the clinic. Most of her right forearm is covered in gauze and bandages.

My dad goes to the cupboard and retrieves two mugs. He squeezes my shoulder. “Sit down, son. I’ve got this.”

I don’t argue. I don’t feel particularly steady on my feet—more like I’m going through the motions, trying to keep my head in the present. I take the seat to the left of Clover and thread my fingers with hers.

Dad sets the kettle to boil and pulls out the box of Bengal Spice tea. It’s become a staple at my parents’ place since I introduced them to it during the holidays. He drops a bag in both cups.

“Are either of you hungry?” he asks. “Sometimes trauma does that. Makes us hungry. Or not. I’ll put out one of the board things your mom loves to make with all the crackers and stuff on it, yeah?”

I don’t stop him. I know he’s doing his best to be helpful. He starts pulling out boxes of crackers and cookies. He finds two blocks of random cheese in the fridge, breaks up a couple of chocolate bars, fills a bowl with nuts and another with pretzels, and sets it on the counter in front of us.

Clover picks up a cracker and nibbles on it.

“The police said they’re going to stop by in the morning again to get any additional details they need from the two of you about what happened. Gabriel has been officially charged with violating the order of protection you filed.” My dad raps on the counter. “If you need any help with legal advice, I can give you my lawyer’s number.”

Clover nods. “I have a divorce lawyer I’ve been working with.”

My dad bites the inside of his cheek. “No offense, Clover, but since you’re still fighting to get that divorce you so clearly want, it might be time to switch things up. Not saying you need to decide that right now after the night you’ve had, but, uh, I have someone on retainer who could probably help expedite things for you.”

“Maybe we could talk about that later, Dad?” I suggest.

“Yeah. Of course. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I just . . . I know how important you are to Maverick, and I want to keep you both safe.”

A buzz sounds, and Dad pulls his phone from his back pocket. “That’s your mom.”

“You haven’t told her about this, have you?” I ask, suddenly on high alert.

He gives me a look. “Not a chance in hell. The only thing your mother knows is that you’ve been offered a spot at training camp and we’re in discussions. She’s got enough to deal with keeping your sister calm while Kody’s here. The less she knows right now, the better. Kody and BJ know not to say anything, and I’ve already talked to Rook and Lainey and your aunt and uncle, so they’ll keep an eye on those boys. The police aren’t offering information to local outlets for twenty-four hours. The important part is that everyone is safe. I’m just going to take this.” He clears his throat and brings the phone to his ear. “How’s my beautiful wife? You and the kids having a good time?”

He squeezes my shoulder and heads down the hall toward his office.

I turn and press a kiss to Clover’s temple. “How you hanging in there?”

“Nashville called you up.”

I can’t read her tone or her expression. “Yeah. But I’m not making any decisions about that right now. And we can talk about it later, okay? You and your well-being are the top priority.”