Mara
The banging starts at 11:47 p.m.
Not polite.
Three hard hits that make the picture frames shake.
I’m already moving before my brain catches up.
Lily sits up in bed down the hall.
“Mommy?”
“I’m here,” I call out, grabbing the baseball bat from behind my bedroom door because I’m not stupid.
Another bang.
“Open the damn door, Mara.”
Evan.
Rage replaces fear so fast it makes me dizzy.
I yank the door open without thinking.
“What the f**k is wrong with you,” I snap.
He smells like whiskey and ego.
“You think you can threaten me,” he slurs. “You think you can parade some biker in front of my kid.”
“I didn’t parade anyone.”
“You think I don’t know he’s been around.”
My grip tightens on the bat. “Leave.”
“You’re not keeping her from me,” he says, pushing a hand against the
