Harper shoves her door open, practically leaping out to meet her angry bull of a father. I follow immediately, not willing to let her face anything alone, even Silas.
The night air is cool against my skin after hours in thecar. I can smell Mom’s roses from the front garden, and crickets are singing their endless song in the background. Everything is sonormaland suburban.
“Where the hell have you been?” Silas barks, and his voice echoes off the neighboring houses.
Harper holds her hand out, shushing him. “God, Dad, do you want to wake the whole neighborhood?”
“I want to know where the hell my daughter has been.”
Harper immediately props her hands on her hips—that defensive stance I know so well. “Did you forget what day it is? I’m eighteen. You don’t have a say over me anymore.”
Wrong thing to start with. I can see it in the way Silas’s jaw tightens. The way his hands curl into fists.
“Do you know how worried Helen and I have been all day?”
“Why were you worried?” Harper looks genuinely surprised, like the concept of someone worrying about her is foreign. “Boy Scout over here”—she jerks a thumb in my direction, and I try not to wince at the moniker—“told you we were going to the lake.”
Silas folds his arms across his large, barrel chest. Even in pajamas, he’s intimidating. “You think I’m that dumb? It’s your birthday. I know you turned eighteen today.”
“Oh, so you remembered for once,” Harper sneers, and I hear twelve years of abandonment in those words.
“Get in the house.” Silas jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “We’ll discuss this in the morning. Helen’s been worried sick all day.”
Guilt knifes through my chest. Worrying Mom is thelast thing I ever want to do. I hate that she’ll know I lied to her, but I can face the consequences of my actions.
I step up beside Harper. Close enough that our arms brush.
“About that,” I say. “We didn’t go to the lake.”
“No shit.” Silas’s voice is flat. Disappointed.
The disappointment hurts worse than anger would. I’ve spent years earning his respect and trust. And I just torched it in one night. Broke all the rules. His and mine.
“We went to get an old friend.” I force myself to meet his eyes. “I pushed for it. He was in need.”
“Need?” Silas’s eyes narrow, pinging back and forth between Harper and me like he’s trying to solve an equation.
Harper just turns on her heels and walks back to the Mustang, yanking open her door and pulling the lever that drops her seat forward, exposing Z.
I position myself between Silas and the car. Not blocking. Just... present.
Check the arrangement: Me here. Harper there. Z emerging. Silas watching.
Four people. Even number.
Except everything feels unbalanced.
Z unfolds himself out of the backseat, stepping out onto the driveway. Under the porch light, his bruises are more visible. The split lip, the way he’s favoring his left side.
“I’ll continue to stay here, old man,” Harper says, and there’s challenge in her voice. Defiance. “Which I’m only considering to be nice to Helen—because I like her, and she’s made me feel welcome. But only if Z canstay in the basement until I finish high school and graduate.”
It’s hard to see in the dim light, but I’m pretty sure Silas’s face goes red with absolute fury. The color starts at his neck and rises like a tide.
“No way in hell,” Silas says slowly, deliberately, “am I letting your boyfriend move into the basement.”
“I’m not her boyfriend,” Z says, voice hard as concrete. “Believe me, she’s made that more than clear.”
For once, his bad disposition is helpful.