Page 158 of Shadowed Sins: Nitro

He sees me. His face cycles through shock, anger, hope—like a slot machine trying to find the winning combination.

"Three years. Three goddamn years."

I know. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.

"Dad, I—"

"You bringing trouble here?"

Same assumption. Same fear. I'm still just a problem to them.

Before I can respond, Mira steps forward. Something in her posture shifts—protective, claiming space.

"He's coming home."

Her voice carries that deadly calm that could make trained killers reconsider their choices.

My parents notice her properly now. Really see her—this woman who looks like danger in designer jeans.

Mom's hand goes to her throat. "You called yesterday. About our hours."

She called them? She planned this?

"I did." Mira's tone softens fractionally. "He needed to see you. He just didn't know it yet."

Dad's eyes narrow, suspicious morphing into something else. "You're real. He mentioned someone once, but we thought..."

"Thought he made it up to avoid talking about settling down," Mom finishes.

Even now they're trying to understand my life through their lens.

Mira's mouth curves—not quite a smile, more like a blade being sheathed. "I'm very real. And he needs to tell you something."

Thirteen years of words stuck in my throat. Where do I even start?

"I'm sorry." The words crack coming out. "About Tommy. About leaving. About the shop. About everything."

"Stop. Just stop."

Dad's voice breaks on the second word. Mom's hand covers her mouth, tears already tracking down her cheeks.

She is crying. Just like Mira said.

Dad moves closer, and I see it now—the fear in his eyes isn't anger. It's terror. Pure, parental terror.

"We pushed you away."

Mom's voice is barely a whisper. "We were so scared."

"After Tommy, every time you got in a car, we saw you dying." Dad's hands shake as he wraps the shop rag around them, needing something to hold. "We thought if we could make you quit, make you safe..."

"We lost you anyway." Mom's tears are flowing freely now.

They weren't punishing me. They were trying to save me.

"I thought you blamed me for Tommy."

"We blamed ourselves." Mom steps around the desk, moving toward me like she's approaching something that might bolt. "For letting you boys race. For not stopping it."