Tyson holds up his blue fan. “I’ve got the fan on, Jimmy. Relax.”

“We need some privacy. Father-daughter talk.” Dad’s tone is icy.

Tyson stubs out the cigarette on the bottom of his work boot and shuts the door as he leaves.

I’ve never seen Dad so angry. He turns on me the second Tyson closes the door. “I told you not to see Marco Leone again, didn’t I? Or did you think that was a request?”

“I’m sorry, Dad. But you can’t charge him. Please.” My voice shakes.

“Do you think I brought him here for a tour? We busted him sitting behind the wheel of a stolen car.” Dad stands and presses his palms against the table in front of him. “Let me repeat that part in case you missed it the first time. He was sitting in a stolen car with the key in the ignition.”

“You don’t know the whole story. Marco’s dad stole cars for someone else before he was arrested. After his father went to jail, the guy he worked for came after Marco. The guy told Marco that he had to pay off his father’s debt.” I’m talking too fast, but if I slow down, Dad might cut me off before I finish. “He knew Marco and his sister were living alone, and he threatened to report them to Child Services if Marco didn’t pay him.”

“Marco should’ve gone to the police.”

I’m not getting through to my dad. “He couldn’t, not without losing his sister. Marco didn’t want to steal cars. His dad’s boss forced—”

“Forced him to do it?” Dad shouts over me. “Is that what you want me to believe? When Tyson and I followed him, Marco drove straight from the Heights to that car. No one was forcing him. I could’ve waited until he drove it to the dockyard and arrested him for felony theft.”

My head spins, caught on something Dad said.

When Tyson and I followed him, he drove straight from the Heights …

I jump out of the chair. It tips over and falls backward, crashing against the floor.

“You used me!” I shout.

Dad leans toward me, his hands still planted on the desk. “No. You lied to me, and I found out.”

“I’m in love with him, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” My voice cracks, and I can’t hold back the tears. “I’ll be eighteen in four months.”

“He’ll be in jail by then.”

“They have visiting hours.” I swipe at my face, brushing away the tears. “So do whatever you want, Dad. You can’t stop me from loving him. It’s the one thing you can’t control.”

His expression is unreadable. “Are you really in love with this boy, Frankie? Do you even know what that means?”

“Of course I do.”

“What are you willing to do to protect him?” Dad asks.

“Anything.” I look my father in the eye.

He nods slowly and paces the length of the room. “I’ll make you a deal. Give me your word that you’ll end things with Marco, and I’ll let him walk.”

“What?” I must have misunderstood. Dad would never bend the rules—let alone the law. Not even for me.

“You heard me.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “You’d never let someone break the law and walk.”

“I would if it helps me catch his boss. If you’re right and Marco is stealing these cars for someone else, that person is the one we want.”

“Marco probably won’t tell you.” Not after the way he reacted when I suggested it.

“Maybe he won’t have to. Let me worry about how to do my job.” Dad crosses his arms. “No games this time. If you start seeing Marco Leone again, we’ll charge him for his felony stunt tonight and let a court decide if he’s guilty and I will make it my personal mission to dig up every bit of dirt under that boy’s fingernails. And if he steals another car or commits a crime of any kind, the deal is off.”

“Why are you doing this?” I stare at my father, the man who is supposed to protect me. The man hurting me more than anyone ever has.

“I’m saving you from ruining the rest of your life.”

“I don’t need anyone to save me!” I yell so loud that my throat feels raw.

Dad doesn’t flinch. “So what’s it going to be, Frankie? Do you love this boy enough to give him up?”

CHAPTER 33

THE SPEED OF SORROW

I don’t remember leaving the barracks. Everything feels like a blur after Dad’s deal—that’s what he’s calling the choice he gave me. Destroying your daughter’s life doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.

Outside, I stumble down the steps and miss the last one, cracking my knee on the sidewalk. The odors of gasoline, stale cigarette smoke, and vending-machine coffee mingle in the air. Cruz gets out of the car the moment she sees me.

What do I tell her?

“Frankie?” She frowns.

Around me, sirens wail and red and blue lights flash as police cars fly out of the parking lot. It reminds me of the night Noah died.

“What happened in there? You look like someone beat the crap out of you.”

Someone did.

We’re only a few parking spaces away from Cruz’s car. Ava watches us from the driver’s-side window.

“Wait.” I stop walking. “I need to tell you something, but not in front of your sister. Can we drop her off?”

“Yeah, but we can’t hang out at my house. My dad doesn’t let us have anyone over.”

“We’ll drop Ava off and go somewhere else.”

“I still can’t drive.” Cruz lifts her sling away from her chest.

“I can.”

“Your license is suspended.”

“Ask me if I care.” My voice cracks, and I close my eyes.

“Now you’re freaking me out.” She grabs my arm and drags me to the car.

As Ava drives, I stare out the window from the backseat. Cruz turns around to check on me, but she doesn’t ask any questions. The ride isn’t long enough, and I still haven’t figured out how to tell her that my dad is the cop who arrested Marco.

But I am going to tell her.

Cruz trusted me with the truth about her abusive father—a secret that could land Cruz and her sisters in foster care if the wrong person found out.

We drop Ava off, and I slide into the driver’s seat. I hit the gas, the GT-R flies backward out of the parking space. A quick jerk on the wheel, and the car fishtails and ends up facing in the direction I want to go.