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building tension inside the walls. Once we are out of the driveway, I put my phone on the console between us.

I tap a button on the steering wheel, waiting for the prompt to speak my request. Beep.

“Call Marek’s cell,” I say, glancing at Delaney. She’s picking at her chipped nail polish.

The phone rings five times, and he answers it on the sixth.

“What’s up, Break?” Marek says. In the background, Palmer is demanding to have the phone. “Will you chill out, woman?”

“I need you to call the gauntlet,” I explain. “Tomorrow night at eleven. I can’t do it myself because I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Where at?”

“Hollow Hills football field,” I answer, hating that I’m stooping to this level.

“You sure about this?”

“Tell Madison.” I hang up before he can try to convince me otherwise.

I’m not sure what the connection is between Delaney’s family and mine, but I am certain the DuPonts are heavily involved in some way. Since I can’t control ours, there is one thing I can do. Tripp DuPont. If Delaney’s father hadn’t been so insistent on her dating Tripp, I wouldn’t think anything of it. But one reason a man would force a relationship on his daughter is connections with money.

“Where are we going?” Delaney asks.

“I need to go see my sisters,” I answer, numbly driving the roads like it’s a routine until we are out of the city limits.

The trees pass by in a blur.

“What happened?” I give her more silence than she likes. I can practically feel her seething. “Barrett Davenport, you need to tell me now, because your driving is kind of scaring me.” She smacks my hand. “When it comes to you, silence isn’t a good sign, so I’m going to need an explanation.”

“Did you find anything?” I blatantly ignore her question, which pisses her off more.

“I did, but let’s talk about what went down before we move onto it, shall we?” I glance over and see her arms crossed over her chest. She has one knee tucked on the seat, and she’s staring at me with expectant, trusting eyes.

“I haven’t told you much about my father, have I?” I start off. Easing into this subject is the safest way to do this without letting my anger explode on the wrong person.

“All I know is he treated your mom pretty poorly.”

“Poorly is an understatement. It’s been years since I’ve seen him. He’s all but given my aunt custody of my sisters, but he’s asking to see them again.”

“Why, after all this time?”

“I’m not sure, but as I get closer to graduating, I have a lot of decisions to make about my mom’s foundation.”

“What’s her foundation?”

“The Davenport Foundation,” I say, remembering the excitement and pride she had for the work she did. “The public has no idea that the woman who fought so hard for women and children in dire situations, was living her own.”

“She helped domestic violence victims?”

“That, and any young girl who found herself in a peculiar situation.” I nod, remembering the blood, sweat, and tears she’d put into her work. “We had a revolving door of young women who needed a safety net. It was never a big surprise to sit across from a stranger during the holidays because Mom couldn’t help herself. She had a giving heart.”

“My guess is your father didn’t like it?” Delaney grabs my hand. I look down at her small fingers mingled with mine. There’s so much faith that I won’t hurt her in that small move.

“He hated it, resented her for it.”

“Is that why the abuse started?”

“No, that was his excuse, a reason to justify it in his own head, by placing the blame on my mom for laying more stress on his plate.”

“So, what does your father have to do with what happened in my father’s office?” Delaney asks.

There’s the big question, the one I’ve had since I heard his name trickle from Mr. Chambers’ mouth. I slow to a stop at the fork in the road and slide the gear shift into park. Leaning my head against the headrest, I stare out the windshield. The road is dark. Light shines down through the sky-high trees, exposing the moon’s presence.

My eyes close. I hope I’m wrong but know damn well I’m not. My neck rolls, and once I’m facing her, I slowly open them, exposing me to the hurt on her face.

“Our fathers are in business together,” I say. “Whatever the game is, my mom’s foundation is mixed up in it.”

“Tell me that’s not true,” she says, assuming my own worries.

“Your dad said his name. He was talking on the phone, Delaney. He threatened my sisters.”

“My father?” She clutches at her shirt, discomfort invading her body. “He threatened your sisters?”

“In fewer words, but yes. He told me to worry about my own blood and a little less about you.”

“What does that mean?” Delaney’s eyebrows scrunch together.

“My father’s after the foundation. My Aunt Emily told me at my last visit. I’m not so sure as to why. It doesn’t bring in much money, but I assumed it was because of me. I’m next in line to take over. When my mother passed, the board voted for someone to take over until I was ready, if I ever wanted to be ready. My aunt’s been running it, but it’s not hers, or at least she doesn’t feel like it is.”

“Are you going to?” Delaney asks. “Take over?”

“There’s one thing I need to happen, and that’s for the foundation to run smoothly until my sisters are older. It’s theirs, their rightful place, and I’ll protect that, even if it means I need to step in until they’re ready.”

“Does your dad have the ability to steal it out from under you?”

“I’m sure he believes he does.” I grip the gear shift, slide it down to drive, and press on the gas pedal to finish the drive to my aunt’s house.

When the house comes into view, Delaney’s eyes widen. “This is where you grew up?”

“We all grew up like

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