Chapter 4 Phantom #2
I’m thanking my divorce lawyer in my head right now.
Shayla and I filed when I got convicted the first time, but we still loved each other back then.
Our custody agreement was mutual and flexible, so I’m not violating any law by keeping the kids with me.
I can have them any time I want them, no restrictions.
“The hell they aren’t!” She makes a big show of pulling out her phone and punching in 9-1-1. “Let’s see what the cops have to say about that.”
“If you call them, I’ll press charges. I’ve got a lot of shit you don’t want dragged out in front of a judge.” I point to the bubble mounted over the compound door. “A lot, Shayla.” A lot more than her acting like a fool on my driveway, thank God.
“For fucking what? Trying to get back my kidnapped kids?” She starts to lose steam, because she knows damn well she’s on the losing end of this fight.
All I have to do is push a little harder, and I know she’ll snap and probably commit enough criminal acts to ensure the cops would have plenty to charge her with.
I stand perfectly still, not baiting her. Just waiting until she chills the fuck out.
She’s a monster, so she does what I expect. She bursts into sobs. “I want to see my babies,” she cries, not a single real tear rolling down her cheeks. “Why didn’t they come home last night?”
Viper shifts uncomfortably in his boots, and Shadow rakes a hand roughly through his hair. I hate to air my shit in front of my brothers, but I need witnesses for this, and they know it.
I don’t want to take away Shayla’s right to see her kids, but the last few months, she’s become unstable. It’s one thing to hate me and to show up here causing a scene. But there’ve been other things.
Too many other things.
At the beginning of the summer, she left the kids home alone.
When she didn’t get home by eleven, the kids’ weekend bedtime, they started calling and texting her.
Nothing. Not a word in response. The girls had the good sense to call me at three in the morning.
When she didn’t respond to my texts offering to come pick her up, bail her out, whatever she needed, I went and got the girls.
We reported her missing at noon the next day.
She eventually stumbled home and tried to blame me for forgetting that she had plans for a few days with a new boyfriend, but that was not only a lie, it was the last straw. With a little help from a private investigator, I found out what that little disappearing act was about.
And it’s time Shayla knows everything that I’ve been doing since then.
“Look,” I tell her, trying real damn hard to see the woman I once loved in the mess of a human in front of me now.
I fail miserably. I don’t even recognize her, but it still hurts me to tell her this.
“Shayla, my attorney filed an emergency petition with the court. I’m going to get full custody of the girls.
They’re not coming back with you, so I need you to get yourself together and go home. ”
I’ve never seen a woman stop crying so fast.
“Like hell you are,” she says, her voice low and mean. Gone is the hysterical Shayla. This version of her is far scarier.
That’s why I have no choice. I must take these kids from their mother.
“Shayla, you fucking listen, and you listen to me good,” I say, meeting her lethal tone. “You think I don’t have ways of knowing you got yourself locked up in June? Fucking shoplifting like a goddamn shithead at the mall. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
She starts sputtering, but I hold up a hand and tell her to keep her goddamn mouth shut.
“If you don’t listen, I’m going to let Viper do whatever it is he’s been wanting to do since you set your sloppy ass on compound property.”
“Fuck you, Viper. You lay a hand on me, and you’ll lose that hand so fast…”
“It’s over, Shayla. Whatever you’re going through, get some help. But you’re not dragging the kids through the shit with you.”
“You son of a bitch,” she seethes. “After all the years I supported your sorry, loser, criminal ass.” She lunges at me then, clawing at my face, but I’m faster, stronger. I grip her by the forearms and stop her before I lose an eye.
“You already know that theft of goods or services over $750 is a felony in the state of Florida because of that little stunt you pulled back in June.” My tone is a low warning.
She stops fighting me and listens. “And what you tried to pull at the hair place yesterday? I know because I fucking paid it so that salon lady wouldn’t call the cops on your children.
Your children, two minors, who you tried to involve in your commission of a crime—and not your first. You know what could have happened to you or to them? ”
I release her arms roughly and take a step back. “You’re lucky I took the kids before the goddamn state did.”
I turn my back on her and head back toward the door. “Don’t set foot on this property or any place else where the kids are, or where I am, or I’ll add a restraining order to the filing.”
She’s standing there with her hands clenched into fists, listening and looking shocked, as if the full gravity of what’s happening is finally hitting her.
“Don’t contact me or the kids directly again until the court sorts shit out. You got my lawyer’s number. You got something to say, say it to him. Get yourself together, Shayla. For your own sake, if not for the girls’.”
“If that isn’t the fucking pot calling the kettle black. You’re the goddamn criminal, Phantom, you know that! The girls don’t respect you. I don’t respect you.” She hauls off and spits, and I feel the dampness of her spittle strike the back of my arm.
I turn so fast I kick up a cloud of gravel dust. “I loved you once,” I spit out, waving my hand from her sloppy expression to her filthy clothes. “And I don’t know who the fuck this mess is anymore. Get the fuck out of my life.” Then I turn to Viper. “Make sure she gets safely to her car.”
He and Shadow take that as their cue, and they surround Shayla, not touching her, but letting her know without saying a word or lifting a finger that her visit here is over.
When I go back inside, Savage is right on my ass. “I’ll send a copy of the video to your lawyer,” he says.
I nod but don’t say more.
A part of me feels sick to my stomach. Bile and something sad, darker floods my mouth. I never wanted this for my kids.
But people change.
I know that better than anyone because I’m not the man I used to be. In some ways, I’m way better. In other ways, far, far worse. But at least I can take care of Holly and Daisy. I just hope they’re going to be okay with that.
I take a few breaths, run a sweating hand through my beard, and swallow back the sour taste in my mouth while my heart rate slowly comes down. The kids are sitting at barstools, laughing loudly and eating pancakes. One of our prospects is chatting up Stella, who points to me as I approach.
“Your plate is in the oven staying warm,” she says. “Want me to grab it?”
I nod and grumble my thanks.
Daisy is leaning over Holly’s arm, making the kind of giggling sound that can only mean they are talking about a boy. My stomach rolls over in my gut. The kids aren’t kids anymore. They are young women, and if this Tyler thing is really something I need to worry about… Fuck.
I’ve been a single dad forever. But a full-time dad to two teenagers is something else entirely.
When Stella brings the warm plate and sets it on the bar counter, Daisy points to a pancake that looks like an oval smear with wheels. “I tried to make you a motorcycle, but it didn’t exactly turn out.”
I look down at the plate, and a sudden lightness floods my chest. Making pancake animals was something I used to do when the kids were small.
They all looked like shit and nothing like real animals, but I’d make the girls guess what they were.
I’d act offended and shocked by their very reasonable guesses, and when I’d finally tell them some random, impossible animal, they would laugh and squeal.
These girls may be young women, but they are still those kids. My kids.
I pick up the motorcycle with my bare hands and pop the whole thing into my mouth. “Best pancake I ever tasted,” I say, talking with my mouth full intentionally. “It looked exactly like my ride.”
“Dad.” Daisy covers her eyes. “Your teeth are full of chocolate. Gross.”
I wash down the pancake with coffee when the phone in my pocket rings. I’m prepared for it to be Shayla, but the caller ID says it’s my lawyer. I set down my coffee and turn away from the bar. “Hey,” I answer.
“I got the tape,” he says, without so much as a hello.
That’s what I love about the guy. We’re cut from the same cloth.
No bullshit. “This is going to be helpful. I filed an emergency petition, and I expect a hearing to be put on the calendar. But I want you to get a statement from the salon owner, the one from yesterday. You think you can get that? And save the evidence from the girls’ phones.
I’ll need screenshots of the texts from Shayla telling them to run out on their bill. ”
“Consider it done.”
“I’ll call you next week when I know more.” And just like that, the call ends.
I head back to the bar for the moment of truth. I don’t want the kids to know all the details. They don’t need to worry about the legal shit. For now, what matters is that they’re okay, and I just hope they’re okay with what I’m about to tell them.
I climb onto a barstool next to Daisy. “You know your mom’s not in the best place,” I say.
“I’ve asked my lawyer if we can file some paperwork so you two can come home with me for a while.
We’ll work out getting your stuff, and you’ll be able to see Mom after the lawyers handle their shit.
But how would you feel about staying with me? Not here. My house.”
Daisy immediately climbs off her stool and throws her arms around my neck. “I want to redecorate my room.”
Holly nudges her in the back and frowns. “Dad, I want to stay with you, I do, but is Mom going to be okay? You know how she is.”
Daisy drops down onto her own stool again and pulls a face at her sister. “It’s not our job to worry about her, Hols. Do you think she was worried about us yesterday when she just left us?”
Holly shrugs. “I don’t know what to think.”
“Daisy’s right,” I say. “It’s not your job to worry about your mom. It’s time for her to take care of just herself for a while.” I reach past Daisy and tap Holly on the nose. “And you too.”
She smiles a little at that. “We can still go to the same schools and everything?”
I glare at her, my lips pulling into a frown. “If this is about that Tyler kid…”
“Dad.” Holly shakes her head. “Stop. Nobody wants to change schools in their sophomore year.”
I assure her that everything will stay the same. The only change is they’ll get to decorate brand-new bedrooms at my place.
Holly looks troubled, but she hugs me hard. “Can we go now?” she asks.
“Go get your stuff from my room. I’m going to finish these motorcycle pancakes.”
The girls run off to my room to pack up the few things they had with them when I picked them up from the salon. I’ve got a house not far from the compound with plenty of rooms that will need to be decorated now that they are going to be used full time.
I take out my phone as I eat. The pancakes are damn tasty. Warmth floods my body as I pull up the unknown number that is still in my phone. I change the contact to “Poppy Salon Lady” and realize I’m smiling.
My girls love me; I know they do. And they want to come stay with me, which is enough to melt my chrome and steel heart.
But thinking about Poppy makes me feel something altogether different.
I’m looking forward to something. Looking forward to moving my girls in.
Looking forward to texting the hair lady with the eyes and ass that I can’t stop thinking about.
“You look happy.” Stella clears away the girls’ dirty plates and gives me a smile.
I grunt and focus on my phone. Business me and Dad me don’t mix often, and I don’t need anyone at the club knowing too much about my personal life. What they’ve seen already is enough for a lifetime.
I open the text messages, but suddenly asking a stranger to submit a statement to the court over text doesn’t feel right. I decide to pay the walking fantasy a visit and ask in person.
The corner of my mouth picks up in a half smile.
Happiness.
It’s something I only feel around my kids, but there’s no denying I’m smiling just thinking about the sexy salon owner.
Maybe Stella isn’t wrong.