“Tyler?” I asked, my voice dangerously flat.
Emma flinched at his name. That was answer enough.
I wrapped my arms around her trembling shoulders, preparing to pull her inside and lock the world away. But before I could pull her across the threshold, the blinding glare of halogen headlights cut through the darkness.
A massive black SUV roared down my quiet suburban street, its tires screeching as it violently jumped the curb and slammed into park right on my front lawn.
My blood turned to ice, but my training ignited like dry kindling.
The driver’s side door flew open. Tyler stepped into the rain. He wore a tailored suit that cost more than my first car, his tie perfectly knotted, his jaw clenched with an arrogant, untouchable rage. He didn’t look like a man who had just beaten his wife. He looked like a CEO inconvenienced by a malfunctioning asset.
“Emma,” Tyler commanded, his voice cutting through the thunder. “Get in the car. You’re having an episode. We are going home.”
Emma whimpered, burying her face into my shoulder, her fingers digging into my back like claws.
