But then Reese had run into trouble. Her loser boyfriend at the time—another bastard, of course—had tried to kill her, and she’d needed a safe place to stay until everything blew over and he was put behind bars for good.
I had snorted when I’d heard that one. Safe place? Here? Whatever. But my mother had already made plans with her sister—Reese’s mom—and Reese came to the Mercer home to stay with us whether I approved or not.
Well, I didn’t approve. I didn’t want sweet, innocent, fun-loving Reese anywhere near my father. I somehow talked Mom into making her stay in the loft above the garage, so at least she wouldn’t be sleeping under the same roof as him. And then I delayed my plans to leave. I was probably the worst kind of safeguard between her and Bradshaw Mercer ever, but I wasn’t le
