Chapter Sixteen #2
Sniffling, I reached for a chip. Maggie smiled and patted my back, then leaned in to press her forehead to my temple. “I love you, Tyler Anne, and I promise you . . . it’ll be okay.”
I cut my eyes at her, and she merely hugged me.
Once we’d eaten – and I did try, choking down about a third of the nachos – I followed her to the little rental house she’d taken over from me when I moved in with Jase.
I showered in the guest bathroom and pulled on a t-shirt and leggings I borrowed from her, then wandered through to the master bedroom to find her.
She’d showered as well, her coppery hair pulled into a messy ponytail, a pink Mexico Beach t-shirt over her striped turquoise sleep shorts.
“You changed the sheets since you dumped him, right?” Arms folded over my midriff, I cast a skeptical glance over her bed. She’d given Noah back his ring a few days ago, and he was being a jerk about it, texting and leaving tacky gifts, even showing up at the house uninvited.
“Yes.” She threw the smallest decorative pillow at me, and I ducked. “What kind of question is that?”
“Just checking. Didn’t want to catch any more douchebag germs.” I slumped onto the side of the bed, one leg folded under me. My shoulders drooped, suddenly heavy like I’d been carrying a weighted backpack all day. “I already have those.”
“Jase isn’t a douchebag.” Maggie crawled onto the other side of the bed to sit cross-legged and reached for the remote. “He’s a good guy facing a really messy situation.”
I narrowed my eyes, although Maggie didn’t look bothered in the least. “You realize you’re my friend. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am, and I’ll support you however you need me to.
But that doesn’t mean lying to you.” She held my gaze, her mouth set in a stern line that made me think of Coach Bartlett, who’d handled my discipline the one time I’d gotten detention after moving in with Mama Nancy.
“I know why you're mad, and I get it. But you’re angry at her and the situation. This sucks, but it isn’t his fault, Ty. ”
“Stop being reasonable.” I settled against the pillows, frowning and grumbling beneath my breath. I cupped a hand over my lower belly. I couldn’t feel him yet, but I knew he was there. My stomach felt firmer, like the rounded edge of a ball. He was there, and I had to protect him.
With a smile, Maggie nudged my shoulder. “Someone has to be and you’re not there yet. I get it. I’ll let you be mad tonight. Tomorrow, we start thinking about what you want.”
“To forget he ever existed.” I thumped my elbow into the pillow behind me, hard. The idea made my throat ache, though. I loved my life with him, our life together, and didn’t want to give up any of it. I sniffled. “Never see his face again.”
She passed over the remote. “Find us something trashy to watch.”
“Like his ex’s YouTube?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “You know what? Forget trashy. Let’s go for fluffy. Find one of those baking challenge shows.”
Leaning against the headboard, I navigated to the Cooking Channel. Like meringue made anything better.
I tried to focus on the goofy bakers attempting to make cakes with crazy vegetable ingredients sprung on them at the last minute, but beets and jalapenos proved to be little distraction. My brain insisted on circling back to his words and their ramifications.
A sigh worked up from my chest. I’d had such hopes, and now with a few words in our kitchen, they were falling apart around me.
Elizabeth tracked me down today. She says she’s pregnant.
My mouth trembled. “I feel so stupid. I don’t know why I thought this would work out. Life never works out for me.”
“Girl. Hush that up.” Maggie scooted sideways and wrapped her arm around my shoulder, hugging me to her.
“You are gonna be a mama. That’s life working out, right there.
You’ll have me and Marilyn and Mama Nancy, not to mention my mama and daddy and Marilyn’s mama and daddy . . . you’ll be great at this.”
I sniffed, my eyes burning from crying in the car on the way over here. And in the shower. Crying never changed anything, but tonight, my emotions didn’t care. “I guess.”
Maggie pinched me. I slapped her hand.
“He’ll be a good daddy, too,” she said, firm tone reminding me of her daddy, Mr. Lane.
“Yeah. To both our babies. Mine and that skank.”
She squeezed me tight, the pressure grounding me. “This will work out. You know what Mama Nancy says.”
Hands over my face, I tried drowning her out with an exaggerated groan. She laughed and snuggled into me. Suddenly, she straightened.
“Hey, I can introduce you to one of my new clients. He does divorce and family law, so I bet he knows custody law, co-parenting, all that stuff.”
“The guy at the Mexican place tonight.” He looked like a lawyer with that bowtie. I narrowed my gaze, examining her face. She got a little moon-eyed when she thought about him. Oh, God.
“Yeah.”
“The one whose fiancee is a bitch.” How dare that woman look down on my Maggie? She was awesome, smart and hardworking and sweet, and that . . . blonde . . . wanted to act like she was less than because cleaned houses?
“Oh, she was awful.” She pursed her lips. “He’s not sure about her. The love of his life just married someone else.”
“But he’s engaged to another woman? That’s messy.” I snorted. “Sounds like Jase.”
Maggie put a couple of inches between us and pulled her knees up, looping her arms about them. “They’re close in age, and it’s a small town. I bet he and Jase know each other. He knows Noah and is not impressed by him.”
“Oh, he’s smart, then.” I nudged her shoulder. “Maybe I’ll call him for real.”
Bam.
I froze. Something slammed into the side of the house again, close to the bedroom window. Fear spiked up my neck, but I forced air into my lungs, calming my brain, forcing focus.
“Maggie!” Noah’s voice rang out, like the windows and the blinds weren’t even there. “I know you’re home. Let me in the damn house.”
“That asshole.” I scrambled off the bed and stalked to the kitchen for my phone, where I’d left it on charge. He was not going to make Maggie afraid.
Eying the door, I stomped back to the bedroom, phone in hand, the familiar buzz of the live view from the security app filling the room.
Bam.
Another hit to the wall. “Maggie!”
I activated the microphone in the camera above the front door.
“Hey, asshole,” I snarled, glaring at his image. “Get in your piece of shit truck and go before I call the cops.”
“Bitch.” Something clattered on the front porch. I knelt next to Maggie, tilting the phone so she could see Noah standing on the porch, sneering as he directed his middle finger at the camera. “I ain’t going nowhere. Maggie, open the fucking door.”
“He’s wasted.” I pushed Maggie’s phone at her. “Call 911.”
An arm wrapped over her stomach, she dialed. I watched as Noah pounded on the wall next to the door, yelling.
“My ex is on my front steps, beating on the door.” Her voice shaking, Maggie’s words spilled in a rush. “He won’t leave. He’s been drinking.”
I looked from the phone to the bedroom door. Noah took two steps back and lunged at the door, slamming his shoulder into it. His drunk stumble weakened the hit.
“My friend is with me.” The front door rattled in its frame. Maggie cringed, burrowing into me. That motherfucker. I scanned the room. Where were Maggie’s golf clubs? I would lay his ass out. A muffled voice came from Maggie’s phone, a question I couldn’t decipher. “No.”
I wound our fingers together, my gaze glued to the camera feed. Noah slammed his palms against the door, screaming filthy names.
That muffled voice again, and a radio blipped.
“Thank you,” Maggie whispered. Maybe I should run to the kitchen, grab a knife from the block, but that would mean leaving Maggie alone and–
On screen, two cars, red and blue lights sparking, slid to a stop at the curb. They’d gotten here fast. An officer bailed out of each one and jogged across the lawn.
“Motherfucking bitch.” Noah slapped the door once more. He turned to face the cops, chest puffed out. “I ain’t done nothing, man. This crazy, fucking bitch–”
“Step over here.” The taller of the two officers waved toward the lawn. Noah stumbled down the steps. Even with him yelling, his words and the officers’ replies were unintelligible through the camera feed. Maggie clung to me, shaking. Oh, he needed his ass whipped for this.
One of the cops reached for his belt, and Noah exploded, swinging. The two officers took him down, one planting a knee in the middle of his back once he lay facedown in the grass. With more yelling and struggling, he ended up in the back of one of the patrol cars.
Maggie shuddered under a shallow exhale, phone pressed to her ear.
“Yes.” Sluggish, Maggie eased off the bed like slogging through mud, and I scrambled after her. I gripped her hand, keeping her steady as she stumbled into the foyer to open the door. Her phone beeped with the dropped 911 call.
She released my hand to cling to the door, keeping it between her and the yard while she peered up at the cop on the porch. I edged closer, ready to push by her and take charge if the guy took up an attitude with her. Maggie’s fingers trembled where she clutched the slab.
Small tremors running over her body, Maggie answered the cop’s questions – her name, my name, how we knew Noah, had there been any incidents before tonight.
She blinked rapidly, lashes fluttering before her tears spilled free.
She swiped her knuckle under both eyes, and I stepped even closer, rubbing her back, the same way she’d rubbed mine at dinner earlier as I’d cried over Jase.
“So tonight, Mr. Bradshaw is under arrest for public intoxication and resisting arrest.” The cop scribbled on the back of a business card and extended it toward Maggie.
“You can pick up a copy of the report tomorrow and use that to request a protective order. The petition for that would need to be filed through the Superior Court Clerk’s Office. ”