TWENTY SEVEN

Taylor rolled over and grabbed her phone, looking at the screen. It was Alecia. She looked at Chloe's sleeping form under the sheets, and got out of the bed. Chloe told her Ryder had been more tense lately and yesterday he had demanded Alecia come home. Something must have happened. She walked into the living room, closing the door behind her, and answered the phone. “Hello, Alecia,” she said.

Alecia broke down into sobs, mumbling out broken sentences.

“Calm down,” Taylor whispered. “You’re making no sense.”

Alecia took a deep breath. “He made me stand naked in the middle of the room while he watched a game.”

Taylor gasped. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Through fragments of sentences, Taylor pieced together what happened. She ran a hand through her hair. Mr. Hendrix had done something like that before to his wife while they watched from around a corner. Her childhood friend was his father. Ther