“I’m not going to work,” she grimaces.
“I can’t help you, Lauren.”
Silence stretches between us as we stare at each other.
The pounding of my heart is unbearable.
When she squints her eyes into a sliver of determination, I should be more concerned, but hey, Tim said I have nothing to worry about.
“Mark my words, Holt. I’m going to sue my father’s estate. I’m going to bury you in fucking legal paper—”
“It’s your right to fight this, but—”
“And I’m also going to seek partial custody of your child.”
My heart sinks.
“Oh, now you take an interest?” I smirk.
“Whatever it takes.”
“We both know damn well you don’t want her, Lauren.”
“She’s become useful all of a sudden.”
“You’re a fucking bitch,” I throw in her face.
“You leave me no choice. She’s now officially my insurance policy,” she sneers.
“You are not taking my daughter off to Spain.”
“I still own multiple houses in the US. We’ll be right here in Cali.”
“Fuck you, Lauren!”
“If your daughter is with me on weekends, you’ll make sure I get my transfers. Simple.” That makes me cringe. “Two can play at this game. If my father thinks he can hang me out to dry, he has another thing coming… even from the grave. And so do you, Holt. I’ll raise hell until I get what I want.”
“You’ll never win, Lauren.” It’s more of a prayer than a statement.
She smirks. “Stick to your day job, rocker boy. This is California, the state where a name and a sad story still counts. No doubt there’s a judge out there willing to take pity on a poor orphan who’s lost it all… and wants to reconnect with her sweet child. I’ve been told she’s the most perfect little thing on this planet.”
I clench my fist. “The judge will see right through you.”
I don’t want to drag my daughter through the courts and I won’t allow Lauren to use Naomi. Splitting time between two houses and confusing the fuck out of her will harm her. Lauren doesn’t want her, let alone love her. Having to worry if all her needs are met or if Lauren will stick her in a room and forget about her isn’t something I look forward to. And I certainly don’t want Naomi anywhere near Legion. The guy has questionable friendships.
“Everyone is a sucker for a repenting soul. It’s a Hollywood classic. Maybe it’s time for me to put my acting degree to good use.” She places her hand against her forehead and arches her back adopting a dramatic pose. “God, please forgive me. My emotional state robbed me of precious years with my daughter—crazy hormones and all. It’s time to change that. I can’t wait to play Mommy Dearest.” Her evil laugh rings around me.
“Over my dead body.” My jaw is clenched so tight, I’m surprised the words pass my lips.
She shrugs. “Your choice. I hope you have good insurance. Funeral costs are so high these days.”
Her words are like a vice around my neck, choking me to death. I’m so fucking furious, I can only growl like a dog with rabies.
“See you in court, rocker boy!”
CHAPTER 33
Everly
A month later
After another long grueling day, I crawl up to my apartment. It was Flashback Friday so you know it was crazy. It’s funny in many ways because the hours haven’t changed. My ability to cope with things has. I no longer have anything to look forward to. I had that when Holt and I were seeing each other. It’s no longer the case.
We haven’t talked to each other for a month. The last time we spoke, he announced Naomi’s mother was in town and he had a few personal things to take care of. He didn’t go into details and I didn’t ask. Now, I wish I had.
I enter my apartment, drop my keys on the console table near the door and lean against it.
I let out a loud sigh.
It’s so quiet.
I miss Holt so much. I miss what we shared. Granted, we’d only been seeing each other for six weeks, but it was enough to give me hope.
Of course, the lonely nights are the worst. True, he never spent the night at my place and I never slept over at his, but our passionate time together was enough to sustain me.
I’ve lost that.
And I’ve lost the most amazing lover a girl could ask for.
Abstaining from sex for two and a half years was easy. After all, I only had Dalton as my gauge. I didn’t know better. I do now. There’s something so sexy about the way Holt used to fuck me so hard I could barely walk straight the next day. Knowing he wanted me so much he couldn’t contain himself, was a big turn on.
I crave him.
Fuck.
Enough.
Internally, I scold myself over the sadness engulfing me, but that does little to ease my mini breakdown. Blinking back against the tears, I squeeze my eyes shut in my effort to get the tall gorgeous rocker out of my head. Out of my system.
Longing weighs in my heart heavy.
How am I supposed to forget him?
My Misty Sky ringtone interrupts my wallowing.
Crap.
I keep telling myself that I have to change the damn ringtone because it reminds me too much of him, but I keep procrastinating.
I grab my phone from my pocket and grumble.
“Stupid scammer. I don’t know anyone living in Seychelles.”
I hang up.
My phone rings again.
Aggravated, I bring it to eye level ready to hang up on the idiot, just to realize it’s my cousin.
I pick-up.
“Hey, Ainsley, sorry I haven’t––”
“I’m parked at the back of your building. I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Wait! Why––”
It’s too late. She hung up.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock at my door.
I swing it open and my cousin is standing there all decked out in a stunning cobalt blue dress.
“Evening, Everly.” Without preamble she steps into my apartment.
Why is she in such a chipper mood?
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“You’re asking the wrong question,” she says turning to face me.
“Okay, what am I missing?” I ask carefully.
“Get dressed! It’s Friday night and we’re going out! Dinner first and then we’re going to party!”
Is she high?
“No, we’re not. I’m… I’m busy tonight.”
She narrows her eyes and purses her lips. “Really?” she scours my spotless apartment.
Yeah, I’ve scrubbed and polished every surface. I’ve cleaned and buffed. I’ve swept behind every piece of furniture. I’ve purged, donated and trashed. I’ve labeled every single spice and baking ingredient. My freezer received the same treatment. I even color-coded my wardrobe. Ditto for my underwear drawer and my towels. Did you know it’s much easier to find sheets when you put the set in one pillowcase? I’m the poster child of organized living. In other words, I’m utterly miserable.
“Doing what? Cleaning?” she asks amused.