“Then where were you when I needed you!” It exploded out of me like I was a slow-burning stick of dynamite, much closer to detonating than I’d even realized. With the hurt and resentment came painful sobs I yelled through. “Where were you when my boyfriend assaulted me when I was fifteen? Where were you when Josh Horner broke my heart when I was twenty? Where were you when I graduated from the police academy? Where were you when I was shot three times in the chest? Where were you every time Mom gave me a hard time? Every time she made it clear I had to work my ass off to prove to her that I wasn’t you? Where were you every moment I felt unbearably alone!”

My father cried, silently, his hand covering his mouth as my pain swelled inside the room.

I breathed hard, shocked not only by my lack of control but by the force of my anger. It had been buried so long, I hadn’t even acknowledged how mammoth it was.

Like a dragon finally unleashed.

It was out there.

Breathing fire.

No taking it back.

“Mom never made me feel good enough. Don’t get me wrong, she’s told me she’s proud of me in the past. But it always comes with a ‘but.’ I can always do better. And you leaving me just proved her right. No matter how many times Seth or Regan tried to tell me different, tried to love me enough for the both of you, I’ve spent my whole life fighting the feeling of being not good enough, not lovable enough. Because of you. And because of her. But you were worse, Dad.” The tears fell anew. “Because she has always made me work hard for her love, but when I was little, you didn’t. I thought there was no one like you. You were my hero, and no kid could have loved you harder than I loved you.”

He moved. Quickly. Was at my side, pulling me into his arms.

We shook against each other, my soft sobs, his wrecked breathing, and I tried to let him take my hurt, my pain, but I was afraid it was so much a part of me, I’d never be rid of it.

* * *

The room was quiet. It was a different kind of silence from before. Less angry. But still tense.

Mac cried.

I’d never seen my dad cry before.

It was beyond disconcerting to see a big, tough guy like Mac weep.

I wanted to understand. I wanted to believe him when he said he loved me. More than I’d ever wanted to believe anyone who’d said it to me.

Worried about his injuries, I’d forced him to sit back in his armchair. I’d brought my chair closer to his, so it didn’t feel like we had a massive stretch of space between us. We studied each other. I was probably a mess. I didn’t care.

“Before I tell you this”—Mac broke the silence, making me a jolt a little—“you have to know that I take the blame too. I should have tried harder. I should have taken your mum to court and fought for my parental rights.”

I stiffened, wondering where this was going. Lachlan’s words about my mom flitted through my mind and made my pulse skitter.

Mac released a shaky exhale. “I was so sure that because of my job, I would never get joint custody. And I didn’t want to quit my job as a bodyguard because I made the kind of money that not only paid child support but it paid for your college education.”

I knew that. Mom hadn’t kept that from me. But I had an awful feeling she’d kept something else.

“However,” Mac said, leaning toward me, “I’m not going to lie to you, Robyn. You’ve had enough of that, and if I’d even thought for one second you felt the way you felt …” He shook his head, taking another shaky breath. He met my gaze directly. “I won’t tell you I wasn’t a scared-shitless kid when we had you. Or that I loved your mother. I didn’t. I’ve always been a big guy. Even as a kid, I was bigger than all the other kids, grew up in a tough part of Glasgow, and I looked and acted older because of it. I won’t go into the details, but I made a habit of going after older girls, older women. I was only fifteen when I met your mum.”

“And you lied about your age.”

He nodded. “I told her I was eighteen. She was nineteen. Not only did I lie to her about my age but I was an arrogant wee shit, and I admit, I assumed she felt how I felt. That it was just physical, and that she didn’t mean it when she said she loved me—it was just something people said …” Mac’s gaze intensified. “You have no idea how much you changed me. I had no one. My dad died of a heroin overdose when I was eight. I found him.”