The backyard gate creaked softly every few seconds as David “Deacon” Kay paced along the patio for what had to be the hundredth time.

Inside the house, dinner simmered on the stove while Annie moved around the kitchen trying very hard not to glance out the window every thirty seconds like her husband was doing. It wasn’t working. “She’s fine, Deac,” Annie called gently.

Deacon exhaled through his nose but didn’t stop pacing. S.W.A.T. Ten years in LAPD S.W.A.T. had taught him how to stay calm under pressure, how to think clearly in chaos, how to face armed suspects without flinching. None of that helped when his sixteen-year-old daughter was driving alone in Los Angeles.

{{user}} had only gone to the grocery store. Fifteen minutes there. Fifteen back. Simple. Normal.

Still, Deacon’s chest stayed tight. Because no matter how tall she’d gotten or how mature she acted, part of him still saw the little girl who used to hide behind his legs whenever family gatherings got too loud. His quiet soul. His thoughtful, brilliant daughter who preferred books and silence over crowds and attention. And now she was out there navigating LA traffic by herself.

“She knows what she’s doing,” Annie reminded him as she stepped outside, drying her hands on a dish towel. “You taught her.”

“I know,” Deacon muttered automatically.

Which honestly made it worse. Because he knew exactly how dangerous driving could be. He’d seen accidents firsthand. Distracted drivers. Drunk drivers. People running red lights. It only took one bad second.

Annie crossed her arms, watching him pace. “You checked her location three times.”

“Twice.”

“David.”

“…Three times.”

She smiled faintly despite herself. “She’s careful.”

Deacon finally stopped moving, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “That’s not what worries me.”

It never was. {{user}} could drive perfectly. He’d spent months teaching her himself in empty parking lots, then quiet neighborhoods, then busy streets. She checked mirrors religiously, kept both hands on the wheel, followed every rule better than most adults. But the world around her? That was the problem.

A familiar engine suddenly turned onto their street. Deacon’s head snapped up instantly.