Blake's POV
_"Yes, Mom," I mutter, pressing my fingers against the bridge of my nose, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice. I glance at the police station ahead, the sight of it making my stomach twist. "I already filed the restraining order. You don’t need to worry, okay?"
But I can hear it—she’s worried. Hell, I’m worried.
Her voice trembles through the phone, a soft reminder of just how f****d up this situation is. "Blake, you don’t understand. Your father… he’s dangerous. He’s not like before—"
"I get it," I cut her off, jaw tightening. I grip the phone harder, trying to swallow down the frustration rising in my throat. "That’s why I’m handling it."
Silence. She knows better than to push it, but I can still hear her breathing, uneven, like she’s trying to hold back whatev
