It didn’t mean I wasn’t still terrified.

It was dark but I’d left the outside lights on and I saw his truck. He was in the shadows but I still saw him at the tail in the exact same position he’d been in three days earlier.

I parked where I’d parked three days ago. But this time, I didn’t open my door, jump out of my truck and round the hood to find Jacob at the steps waiting for me.

I opened my door and jumped out of my truck to find Jacob standing in my door.

“Honey, I’m glad—” I started.

“Get in the house, Emme,” he clipped, and my head jerked at his tone.

Okay. Apparently he was fuming.

“I—”

He leaned into me so suddenly and so deeply, I had to lean back into the cab of the Bronco.

“Get in the goddamned, motherfucking house, Emme.”

I felt my eyes round.

He’d never spoken that way to me. In fact, I’d never heard him speak that way to anybody.

I stared at his face.

He was angry.

No. That wasn’t right.

He was enraged.

“What’s happening?” I asked carefully.

“Get in. The goddamned. House,” Jacob repeated.

What was going on?

Although I wanted to know (or perhaps I didn’t), I didn’t think it was my best play to ask him right then.

So I said softly, “I will, honey, if you’ll get out of my way.”

He immediately moved out of my way.

I immediately moved to the front door, nervous, freaked, confused and still very scared, but now for a different reason.

I let us in. Jacob slammed the heavy door and the way it thudded in its frame seemed to rock the house.

Have mercy.

“Library,” Jacob ordered.

I turned to look at him. “Can we—?”

His voice dipped to a sinister whisper. “Ass to the library, Emme.”

I didn’t get this. I didn’t like this. I wanted to tell him that but I also didn’t think that was my best play at the moment. So I swallowed, nodded and moved to the library.

Jacob followed.

When we got there, he didn’t delay.

“You’re seein’ him,” he announced bizarrely the instant I turned to face him.

My head jerked. “I… what?”

“You’re seein’ him,” he repeated.

Okay, now I was really confused.

Did he think I’d been out with another man?

“Seeing who?” I asked and that was when he lost it.

Leaning in, he roared, “Harvey!”

Oh no.

He knew.

How did he know?

I looked at his face and didn’t ask. Instead, I took a step back.

Jacob kept speaking.

“Have you lost your mind?”

I lifted a hand his way. “Let me explain.”

“He snatched you from a playground.”

“I know it sounds weird, but please, let me explain.”

“Your father and mother didn’t know where you were for three days.”

Reflexively, my head shook and it did it hard, my hair flying with it, like this action could deflect his words and my ears wouldn’t absorb them. A defensive response I didn’t get and Jacob didn’t catch.

He started stalking toward me.

“Not knowin’ if you were eating.”

I retreated.

“Not knowin’ if you were bein’ touched.”

Another shake of my head, both my hands up now.

Not imploring.

Protecting.

“Not knowin’ if you were dead in a ditch.”

“Stop talking,” I whispered.

“No way they know you’re seein’ him. Your dad talked to me about what happened to you. How he’s not over it. How he wakes up every day with the taste of bein’ out of his goddamned mind worried about you in his mouth and it’s been f**kin’ twenty-two f**kin’ years.”

I couldn’t hear this. I didn’t want to know this.

I had to stop it.

“Stop talking,” I repeated.

“And you’re seein’ him.”

“Please stop talking.”

“Why are you seeing him, Emme?”

I shook my head.

“Why, in God’s name, would you be seein’ that… fuckin’… man?”

You scream, you’ll never see your mother and father again.

The words violated my brain. Words I refused to remember for twenty-two years.

I tripped over something, righted myself and kept moving backward.

You scream…

“No,” I whispered.

You’ll never…

I shook my head hard, hit wall and slid across it.

“Emme?”

See your mother and father again.

“No,” I begged.

Strong hands on my arms.

“Emme!”

Emme!

My head turned and instead of a bookshelf, I saw them there.

Emme!

Their faces.

I couldn’t bear the faces.

I closed my eyes.

The hands left my arms, slid up and curled around my neck. “Baby, what’s happening?”

Emme!

I saw their faces behind my closed eyelids. Burned there. Burned there for eternity.

You scream, you’ll never see your mother and father again.

“Please, Emme, baby, talk to me.”

“No,” I forced out on a tortured whisper.

“Where are you, honey?” The hands at my neck gave me careful squeeze. “Jesus, Emme, come back to me.”

Emme!

Those faces.

“No,” I pleaded.

Emme!

“No!” I shrieked.

Yanking my neck from the hands, I tried to escape.

Arms caught me.

I fought, vicious, kicking, snarling, scratching, bucking.

Remembering.

I was standing behind the kissing tree at recess waiting for my kind-of boyfriend to meet me there.

The tree was in the corner of the far end of the playground. Perfect spot to hide from the teachers and try out kissing. It was also where the chain link fence had been pried away from the post so the bad kids could go out and smoke cigarettes, or whatever they did.

I had my back to the fence, my hands to the rough bark, my body tipped to the side so I could look around the tree to see if my boyfriend was coming.

Suddenly, a hand came over my mouth.

I froze.

I jerked.

A mouth came to my ear.

“You scream, you’ll never see your mother and father again.”

In the library in my home, I screamed.

Back then, I didn’t scream.

I didn’t… fucking… scream.

“It’s me, baby, f**k, shit. Fuckin’ hell, Emme. It’s me.”