The sound of Oliver yelling wakes me with a jerk. I sit up quickly wrapping a blanket around my naked torso. “Keep Dad away from her.” I follow the sound of his voice, and when I find him, Oliver is on the move, boxers on and rifling through drawers with his cell phone to his ear. I can’t see his face, but his body language alone screams anger, and he’s wound so tight that it’s actually frightening. “Keep him away from her, Jacob. I mean it. I’m on my way,” he says, turning in my direction. He gives me a quick glance before turning his attention back to his conversation. “I don’t care what you think. I’ll explain what you don’t get later. I’m coming, and that’s all there is to it,” he bites out before disconnecting the phone. He taps out a text message, and within moments, his phone chimes with a response. Seemingly satisfied with whatever it says, he tosses the phone on the bed then goes back to the open drawer he was rifling through earlier. “Is everything okay?”
