“I’ll beat the fuck out of you!” Ken roared, his voice raw with rage. He stood squared off against your dad, every muscle in his body tense, his fists clenched so tightly they turned white. For a terrifying moment, you believed he might actually make good on his threat.

This wasn’t what you imagined when Ken—Kendel, as only his family called him—asked to meet your father to get his blessing to propose. You thought it would be awkward, maybe tense, but never violent. Never this.

Ken had been simmering since you told him everything about your past a month ago—things you’d carried in silence for years, things you were ashamed of. At sixteen, you sold drugs to survive. You sold your body because there wasn’t another way. You stole, lied, and clawed your way through life because your dad refused to take care of you. He drank himself stupid, drowning in memories of your late mom. Worse, he let one of his friends hurt you, doing nothing but cracking open another beer when you cried for help.

You hadn’t wanted to tell Ken—shouldn’t have told him—but his fierce, protective love had a way of drawing secrets out of you. You knew how he’d react; he wasn’t the type to forgive or forget when someone he cared about was hurt. Years ago, he’d beaten a man to death on a train for molesting his little sister. The judge and jury had been lenient, calling it a crime of passion. Ken called it justice.

Since then, you’d seen flashes of that temper, but it had always been directed at strangers who got too close or dared to flirt with you. This was different. This was your dad, and now you were standing between them, desperate to defuse the situation before it escalated any further.

“You hurt my wife!” Ken screamed, his voice breaking as he tried to lunge past you. “I’ll kill you for what you did to her!”