“I hope to see a lot more of you, Sven,” she says quietly before disappearing inside.

Monroe’s eyes go from the closed door to me and he nods toward the desert as he takes the steps down the porch. Maggie told me her parents were hippies, but I’m not getting the peace, love, and happiness vibe from her father. In fact, he looks ready to commit murder.

I follow him into the sand and dirt off the side of the house, where he stops and places his fists on his hips. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to bring Maggie home,” I tell him honestly. There is no sense in lying about what’s gonna happen, and whether he likes it or not, his daughter is going home with me.

“You know about what’s happening with her sister?” he asks, and guilt assaults me when I answer.

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re the man my baby girl’s been living with?” he asks, locking his eyes on me.

“Yes.” I nod, shoving my hands in the pockets of my slacks.

“Figured,” he mutters, looking me over, and for once in my life, I feel unsure and on edge. I’ve never sought approval from anyone, never given a fuck what anyone thought of me, but standing outside of Maggie’s parents’ house with her father’s eyes on me, I hope he sees something worthy of his girl. “She’s upstairs. Tomorrow, her sister’s going into rehab, so I ask that you both stay here until she’s there.”

“I’ll do that,” I agree, and his eyes move over me again.

“Are you a model like my girl?” he asks, and I smile for the first time in hours.

“No, sir, I own a club and have a few other businesses around Vegas.”

“Good,” he murmurs then walks off, leaving me standing while he heads toward the house. “You coming, or you gonna stand out here all night?” Without a word, I follow him into the house. “She’s upstairs, second door on the left.” He dips his head toward the stairs.

“Thanks,” I tell him, seeing his wife come to his side, wrapping her arm around his waist.

Heading up the stairs, I stop outside the door then push my way through. The room is dark, but I can still make out Maggie’s outline on the bed. Taking off my suit jacket, I place it on the chair then kick off my shoes and socks, strip off my shirt and pants, and then go to the bed. I pull back the blanket and settle myself in, pulling her against me and feeling her wet cheek hit my chest.

“Wha—” she whispers sleepily.

Rolling her to her back, I cover her mouth with mine and her arms wrap tightly around me for a moment before moving to push me off. Pulling her arms above her head, I hold them there and whisper, “I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” against her lips. “I was a fucking dick, and you didn’t deserve that.”

Turning her face from me, she sobs, and that sound cuts me. Placing my mouth near her ear, I tell her softly, “I love you, Maggie, so fucking much. The idea of something happening to you kills me. I’m a selfish fucking bastard when it comes to you, baby.”

“Shut up,” she whispers through her tears.

“So fucking sorry,” I repeat, dropping my forehead to the side of her head.

“You—”

“I know,” I agree without knowing what she’s going to say. Crying harder, her fingers wrap around mine and I kiss her forehead, cheek, and neck then let her hands go and roll to my back, pulling her up my body. Her face presses into my neck and tears wet my skin as she cries.

“You let me down when I needed you,” she breathes when her body has stopped shaking and the tears have died down.

Fuck.

“I know,” I agree, and her arm moves from where it was tucked between us to slide over my waist. Feeling her settle into me, my body relaxes. We lay there for a long time in silence before I finally ask, “Why’d you lie?” Her body tightens, and she goes to pull her arm back, but I grab her wrist and hold it in place against my abs. “I won’t be pissed. I just need to know so it doesn’t happen again,” I tell her gently, using my free hand to run my fingers through her hair.

“You hate my sister,” she whispers, and my muscles lock.

“I don’t hate—”

“Every time I mention her, you get a look on your face.” Her cheek moves against my chest and her hair slides over my skin. “It’s not a nice look.”

“I don’t hate her, Mags. I worry about you and what will happen if you let her in again. There is a difference.”

Her head lifts and she looks down at me. “Because of your mom?”

“Yeah.” I nod, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck under her hair.

“Our stories are not the same, honey,” she whispers with concern in her tone. Lifting her hand, she places it against my jaw, and her fingers trail toward my chin. “I hate what happened to you. I hate it and I’m so sorry.”

Closing my eyes, I let her words settle through me and her touch heal a wound I didn’t even know was still wide open. Only she could do that; only she could heal me with a touch and a few soft words.

“I love you, Sven. I know I shouldn’t have lied about meeting up with Morgan. I don’t know that she’ll get better, but I know I love her enough to want her to have the chance to get help.”

“Family,” I whisper, and her face goes soft. She’s right; family does that kind of shit and our stories aren’t the same. My dad fucked up, even after he was released from the hospital. He tried to plea for my mom’s return home. Thankfully, the judge sent her away to a place where she wouldn’t be able to hurt anyone else. On weekends, my dad would go stay near the facility to spend time with her, and when I graduated high school, he moved to be closer to her. Every time my father left me to be with her, my resentment grew a little more.

If I was honest, I felt abandoned. To this day, we talk rarely. He checks in sporadically, and I do the same. Our phone conversations are never long, neither of us willing to talk about the shit that’s bothering us.

If it weren’t for Asher’s family, I wouldn’t understand the way family worked. I wouldn’t know that parents, real ones, never turned their backs on you. They didn’t push you aside to get what they wanted or needed. I wouldn’t know that family stuck by you. No matter what, they didn’t abandon you; then again, I knew how badly I fucked up with Maggie when I asked her to choose me, testing her loyalty instead of doing what she needed me to do.

“I should never have asked you to choose.”

“You shouldn’t have. I understand why you did, and that killed me, but even knowing it’s just a hope that Morgan will get help, that hope is enough for me to want to help her.”

“You should feel that way. She’s your sister,” I tell her, and she presses a kiss to my chest then lays her head back down.

“How did you know I was here?” she asks after a long moment.

“A friend of mine followed you.”

“Seriously?” she asks, lifting her head once more.

“Yeah, I was gonna, but didn’t want you to spot me and do something stupid that would cause you to end up getting in a wreck in that death trap.”

“I’m a good driver.”

“Baby, you almost ran me over then pulled out on the road without even touching the brakes.”