Chapter 2

Helen Miller stood by the iron gates of her mansion, holding a massive strip of firecrackers, her face wrinkled with a nasty, mocking grin.

She flicked her lighter and spat on the ground right in front of me and Mason Cole, who was gently holding my daughter.

"Good riddance, you trashy leech! Today is New Year's Day. Blasting you two freeloaders away will bring fortune and blessings back to my son!"

The firecrackers exploded with deafening bangs. Red paper debris rained down, some landing in my daughter Lily’s hair.

I quickly covered Lily's ears, my fingers tightening around the hot, freshly stamped divorce certificate in my hand.

Mason's mud-splattered Jeep sat idling by the curb, its hood vibrating in sync with the explosions.

The neighbors gathered around, pointing and whispering behind their hands.

"Look at that guy's car. It’s dirtier than a garbage truck. Avery must be truly desperate."

"The Miller family is worth billions. Now that she's divorced Carter, she’ll probably end up begging on the streets with that baggage of a kid."

Carter’s luxury sports car pulled up, the window rolling down halfway.

He held a thick cigar, blowing a cloud of suffocating smoke directly into my face, making Lily cough violently.

"Avery, a trash collector’s ride is exactly what you deserve. Just do me a favor and beg in another city. Don't embarrass the Miller name."

Lily stared quietly at the shiny, spinning rims of Carter’s car.

She reached out her tiny hand, pointing directly at his brand-new front tire.

"Pop."

Carter’s face darkened instantly. He threw his cigar butt right at our feet.

"You little brat, you dare curse me again? Mom! Go buy more firecrackers! I need to blast this evil energy away!"

He slammed on the gas. The engine roared, and the sports car shot forward like a bullet.

Helen was just about to run and buy more firecrackers, cursing us under her breath.

But the moment Carter’s car crossed the intersection, his front-left wheel suddenly detached. It went rolling wildly into the bushes.

The car lost balance. The chassis slammed against the asphalt, sending sparks flying everywhere before the vehicle screeched to a halt, black smoke billowing from under the hood.

The crowd went dead silent, followed by a wave of gasps.

The lighter slipped from Helen’s hand, her eyes nearly popping out of her skull.

Lily turned around, reaching into the backseat of the Jeep, and flashed a sweet smile at the rugged, bearded man.

"Gold."

Mason’s hand froze on the steering wheel. He looked down at Lily, a rare warmth softening his stern eyes.

He fumbled around and pulled out a warm, foil-wrapped pulled pork slider.

"Eat up while it's hot. Double meat, no cilantro, just the way you like it. I saved it especially for you."

Lily took a big bite, sweet BBQ sauce smudging the corner of her mouth.

Carter dragged himself out of the smoking wreck, his forehead bleeding. He pointed a shaking finger at us and screamed.

"Avery! It’s you! You made your freaky daughter do this! I’m going to ruin you!"

I pulled open the passenger door and climbed in, not giving him a single glance.

Mason got in, shifted gears, and stepped on the gas with practiced ease.

As we started to pull away, someone threw an empty soda can at our windshield.

The Jeep hit a bump at that exact second.

The can missed our roof entirely, bouncing back and hitting Helen squarely on her forehead.

"Ow! What idiot threw that! My head! I’m bleeding! I’m bleeding!"

In the rearview mirror, Helen was rolling on the grass clutching her head, while Carter screamed in useless, impotent rage.

Mason kept his eyes on the road, his grip firm on the steering wheel. His voice was deep and steady.

"Don't worry. As long as I'm here, nobody will ever lay a finger on you or Lily again."