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fighting to keep control of my emotions. I was good at that. Don’t think of that night, Paige. Think of something good. Something safe. Then he appeared. The face of the angel who saved me, wiping away every nasty, evil memory that hurt so much to think about.
    “I need you to cooperate with me here. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I at least need his name so the police can look for him.”
    My eyes grew wide as the fear of having to see Preston again made me nauseated. If the police were to get involved, there was a very good chance that I would have to face him, and I would do anything to keep that from happening. I needed last night to be in the past where it belonged. So I lied.
    “I don’t know who he is. I don’t know where he lives, and I can’t remember his name. I was drunk.” My voice grew louder the more irritated I became.
    “Can you at least give me a description? I need something here. That prick is not getting away with touching my daughter!”
    “Dad, please!” I begged as I looked down.
    My father moved from his chair and sat on my bed beside me, putting his hands on either side of my face as he forced me to look into his concerned, sad, brown eyes.
    “I’m sorry. We can talk about it later. Ever since the divorce, you’ve gone downhill…I think Tessa really drove you over the edge, though. I don’t know how to fix you. The therapist seemed to work for a while, but you went back to your old ways eventually. I thought sending you away would help you escape what happened, but now I know that it didn’t help at all. I had to keep you out of trouble, and that was the only way I knew how.”
    Maybe it was because of the lack of attention I got at home.
    “I don’t like talking about my past. Don’t bring it up,” I said with an edge to my voice as I scowled.
    “You’re okay, though? After what happened last night.” He looked at the cut on my lip, shaking his head as anger flashed across his eyes.
    I nodded. “I’m okay.”
    I wasn’t okay, but admitting that I was hurting would have prolonged the conversation when I was already begging my mind to forget.
    A soft knock at my door was my saving grace.
    “Come in,” my father said.
    The uncomfortable pressure I felt while he questioned me immediately lifted as soon as the attention was no longer on me, and that was how I wanted it to stay.
    A tall, slender, bleach blonde woman, who had her hair pulled back in a tight bun, walked in. She gave a tight smile as she played with the diamond necklace around her neck.
    “Sir, there is an important call waiting.” She must have been his personal assistant.
    He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Okay, Lena, I will be right there.”
    He grabbed the present from the end of my bed and placed it in my lap. “Open it.”
    I ripped the wrapping paper off, opened the box, and pushed the white and purple tissue paper aside to see a Fendi , petite, 2Jours monster tote bag.
    I beamed. Oh, it was so beautiful. “Thanks, Dad. I know I don’t deserve it.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek.
    “Enjoy it. Just know that if you do anything stupid like this again, it will be mine until I decide to give it back to you.” He looked at me apologetically. “I don’t mean to cut our time short, but I better go. I’m working on a big case.”
    I rolled my eyes. He was always working on a big case. Fortunately, for me, I was used to him getting whisked away at any time to his law firm, or getting stuck in his home office on conference calls, so I learned not to take it to heart at a young age.
    “Okay, I guess I will see you around.”
    He kissed my forehead and stood. “We’ll have dinner soon. I told Charlotte to leave the mess for you.”
    My brows rose. “Charlotte, Dad?”
    He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly, as if he made a mistake. “Ms. Schultz to you.”
    “Since when do you call the housekeeper Charlotte?”
    He made his way to the door, ignoring my question. “You have