ZAYNE’S POV

They say when you face your demons, you finally see what they really look like.

I was staring at mine and he was wearing my last name.

My father didn’t flinch when I slammed the office door behind me. He just poured himself another glass of scotch like I’d walked in to deliver mail instead of fury.

“You’re late,” he said, calm, detached. “If this is about the custody rotation, I suggest you take it up with the court, not with me.”

I took a step forward. “Don’t ...