Not Your Hero (11 page)

I’m lying—again. It was like a punch to the gut when he ignored me. I’ve seen glimpses of him from my window, but yesterday was the first time we had walked past each other. He couldn’t avoid me forever. I don’t know why he’s mad at me. He solidified my decision to stay single, raise my son, and forget about men. In truth, I’m more mad than anything. I really thought we had something. But, again, I was wrong.

“If you change your mind, let me know.”

I roll my eyes, and we throw our garbage out before saying goodbye. My shift at the grocery store is over in four hours, and after time drags, I punch out and get Ben. I rush to get to the school in time and end up stuck talking to his teacher. She’s a nice lady, but I really don’t want to listen to her tell me how friendly my son is. God, I sound like a bitch even to myself, but I’m in a hurry. I work at X tonight, and Ben’s babysitter, Kate, will be at the house in less than an hour.

I’m able to pry myself away from the school with Ben, and we make it home with forty minutes before I need to leave for work.

“Hey. Sorry, I know I’m late.” I yell to my boss as I run into the changing room and put on my mini skirt, heels, and bright pink nipple tassels. I cringe when the cold hits me but rush to the bar to grab my notepad and apron. It’s not horribly crowded yet, but it’s still early. One of the things I hate the most about this place is how dark it is. Barely any natural light. The booths that align the wall sit below small rectangular windows, but tacky neon signs cover all of the glass. Bright spotlights shine on the center stage, and dust particles swirl in the candescent lights.

“I grabbed table seven’s order and put it in. Should be ready in a sec,” Brandy, the other waitress, says.

“Thanks. I owe you.” Since we usually work together, we have a system down.

“Not really. They’re a bunch of college brats, just turned twenty-one. Grabby and probably bad tippers. Be careful.” She gives me a wistful smile and grabs her tray.

“Misty. Order’s up.”

The bartender winks at me, and I smile as I place all my drinks on my tray.

I approach the table and take a deep breath before letting my fake, sultry voice fly. “Hey, boys.” With my ass in one of their faces, I give it a little shake while setting everything on their table. “Here ya go. Can I get you anything else?” I ask wide-eyed, chewing on my nail.

“How about you hop on up?” a blond asks grabbing my arm.

“Oh, baby. I’m sorry. That’s not my job. I can send Holly over, though.” I grab his hand to pry it off, and he lets go.

“You do that,” he says, grabbing his glass and taking a swallow. His buddies all cheer him on. I have no clue why, but whatever.

I turn on my heel and check on my other tables before finding Holly by the bathrooms. “Hey, seven wants a lap dance. Careful though, he’s grabby.”

“Aren’t they fucking all?”

Holly is gorgeous. Red hair and bright green eyes. She’s a hit because she’s the only redhead, and apparently, a lot of guys have a thing for that.

“I suppose,” I shrug.

“You okay? You’ve seemed sad lately, but we’re always so busy I never get to talk to you.” She adjusts her bra and runs her fingers through her long hair.

“Yeah. Just life, ya know?”

“Do I ever.”

We walk to the main floor, and I give her shoulder a squeeze before making another round. After an exhausting night, I pick up the bill from the college kids. Cheap little shits only tipped me ten percent. Tears well in my eyes from both anger and the fact that ten percent of a three hundred dollar bill means so damn much to me.

I wave at the girls and walk to my car, still pissed off. I don’t want to do this any longer than I have to, but when I have a good night, I make so much money, and that’s not something I can find anywhere else.

Even though it’s almost three in the morning, Kate is still awake when I get home and inside.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Hi. He was really good. Stayed up until nine-thirty, sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s Friday night. Well, Saturday morning, really.”

She yawns then I yawn, and we both laugh. I hand her some cash and walk to the door.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Some guy came here tonight looking for you.”

“Did he say what he wanted?”

“No. Just asked for you. He said Courtney Gallagher.”

My suspicions rise. “He didn’t say where he was from?”

“No, sorry.”

“What did you say?”

“Just that you weren’t home right now. He said he’d come back tomorrow and walked away.”

I cross my arms and lean on the doorframe. “That’s strange.”

“Yeah, I thought so, too.”

“Hmm. Well, drive safe. And thanks.”

“No problem. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Once she drives away, I make sure all the doors are locked then check on Ben before taking a quick shower and going to sleep.

* * *

An incessant knocking wakes me up, and I run downstairs still half asleep, not wanting the noise to wake up Ben. Groggily, I open the door, and a man in a suit raises his eyebrows.

“Courtney Gallagher?”

“Yes?”

He shoves an envelope at me, and I have no choice but to grab it. “You’ve been served.”

“What?” My heart pounds as I shut the door so Ben can’t hear. “Hey! What do you mean? What is this?”

He ignores me and gets in his car, then speeds away.

Served.
What the hell?

I sit on the swing that sits between our doors and open the seal. As I’m pulling the letter out, Sam’s voice distracts me.

“Bye, Lisa.”

“Bye, Sam. And thanks again.”

I whip my head up, and the same blond woman I’ve seen before is walking out of his house. I roll my eyes and pretend to ignore his presence at the top of the stairs. What a nice guy, making sure she gets to her car okay. I’m not able to read anything on the paper until blondie’s door slams. I take a deep breath and rationalize to myself. We’re not together, and I shouldn’t care. I
don’t
care who he sleeps with. None of my business.

I smooth out the paper and begin to read. When I finally focus on the words, I fall to my knees and clutch it to my chest. My entire body shakes, and I can’t breathe. I’m dizzy and gasping for air. I try to stand up, but my knees are too weak.

“Shit, Courtney, what’s wrong?” Sam’s arms scoop me up, and he cradles me against his chest.

“No. No. No,” I cry. “Ben.” I struggle to get out of his grip, and he sets me down. I push past him and fall to the ground again.

“Ben? What about Ben? Is he okay?” he asks frantically, opening my door. He runs inside, and I continue to cry on the porch because my life is ruined.

Sam returns and picks me up again but forces me to stand. He grips my chin and pain flashes across his face when he sees the terror in mine. “What the fuck is wrong? What’s going on? Ben’s in his room asleep.”

With shaky hands, I hand him the paper. He grips me with one arm around my waist, and I cling to his flannel shirt. He sucks in a breath and swears, his grip getting tighter. “Fuck that. We’ll fight him.”

“I can’t,” I choke out. “He’ll win. He’s going to take Ben away from me.”

This is my worst fear come to life. Matt trying to get custody of Ben. He’s suing me, accusing me of keeping his child from him. I don’t understand why he’s trying to ruin me. Why now?

“No, he fucking won’t,” he growls.

“Did . . . did you see what it says about me?” I step back and point to the words as I read them. “Full custody. Unstable. Child endangerment.” Taking a harsh breath, I continue, “Look at this law firm. I recognize the name. They’re huge. I can’t afford to defend myself against them!”

Sam closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose. When he opens them again, they burn. “I know the best defense lawyer in the city.”

12

Sam

I DON’T EVEN THINK when I open my mouth, but I’m fine with it. I’d do anything to help Courtney and Ben, even if that means asking my dad for help.

The past month has been fucking torture. I have avoided her because it rips me apart not being able to touch her. I fucked up. I know I did, and Lisa walking out of my place this morning didn’t help anything. She stopped by late last night and crashed on my couch. Nothing happened. Even though Courtney and I are not together, I feel obligated to be faithful. I planned on coming over and talking to her tonight, to apologize for being a dick. Beg for another chance. But now her ex is suing her for full custody, and I’m sure my apology is the last thing she wants to deal with right now.

Christ, her entire body is trembling. I carry her up to her bed and pull the covers to her chin. “I’ll take care of this. Don’t worry, all right?”

She grabs my hand and squeezes but can’t get words out because of the crying.

“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” I sit next to her and rub the wet hair off her face. My heart breaks with every one of her sobs, and I clench my jaw against images of Ben being taken away.

After a few minutes, her hand loosens on mine, and her eyes close as sleep pulls her in. I lean down and kiss her forehead. “I won’t let him touch Ben.” With that promise, I walk out of her room and almost trip over the little dude that’s found a way into my heart.

“Hi, Sam.” He rubs his sleepy eyes and starts to go into Courtney’s room.

“Hey. Let’s leave your mom sleep for a bit. I can get you something to eat and we can watch cartoons?”

“Sure.” He walks up to me and lifts his arms¸ too tired yet to walk downstairs on his own.

I lift his tiny body, and he rests his head on my shoulder until we get downstairs. Once on the couch, he crawls to the corner and grabs a blanket before turning the TV on.

“Are you hungry?” I ask.

“Yeah. Can I have cereal?”

“Sure. What kind?”

“The one with marshmallows?”

“I’ll be right back.”

I pour him a huge bowl, not sure how much he actually eats, and return to the living room.

“Thanks.” He hops off the couch and starts spooning the sugary cereal into his mouth. Damn that looks good, so I get myself a bowl and join him on the floor. We watch cartoons and I laugh when he gets up to grab the action figures so we can copy what they’re doing on TV.

“Ben!” Courtney screams from upstairs, and before either of us can answer, she practically falls down the stairs from running so fast. “Ben!”

“I’m right here, Mommy.” He laughs and gets up to hug her, oblivious to her anxiety.

“You . . . you are, aren’t you?” Her scared eyes find mine over his head, and she squeezes them closed. I wish I could make all this go away for her, and that thought solidifies my resolve to make it go away. She sucks in a breath and sets him back, still holding onto his shoulders. “Did you brush your teeth yet?”

“No.” He giggles.

“Go do that, please.”

“Okay!”

As soon as he disappears up the steps, she falls onto the arm of the couch and puts her head in her hands. “I woke up, and he wasn’t in his room . . .” Her hands muffle her voice. “I thought he already took him.”

Shit if I can’t
feel
her pain. “Look at me.”

Her head rises and terrified eyes meet mine.

“He’s not taking him.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know the dirtiest, meanest, most vindictive defense lawyer to ever live.” I lean over and give her a firm kiss on the lips. “And he owes me a favor.”

* * *

When I park in the long curved driveway of the home I grew up in, the one I swore I would never return to, trepidation settles in. Immaculate bushes line the gravel, and an ostentatious fountain sits in the center of the front yard. I haven’t been here in almost ten years, but it feels like yesterday my life shattered in the basement of this pile of bricks. The anger and resentment clawing at my chest burn, but I force them back in—for her.

I take a few calming breaths and shut the ignition off then pocket the keys before walking to the door and knocking.

“Well, well. What do we have here, huh?” Jerome Monroe asks, leaning on the doorframe. “It’s been what?” he trails off, looking at his gold Rolex. “Eight years? What ever did I do to be graced with the presence of my one and only son?”

His condescending tone makes me feel like I’m a kid again, never good enough and always in the way. Years of memories flash in front of my eyes, and I stutter.

“I, umm . . .”

“You what, Sammy? You need something from Daddy-o? Get in trouble with the cops again?” He crosses his arms and eyes me up and down, hate and discontent evident on his face.

Ben and Courtney, Ben and Courtney.

I stand a little straighter and squint my eyes at him, now fueled by anger at what a piece of shit he really is. “I need a favor.”

He laughs, but before he can answer, I cut him off. “You ruined my fucking life. You were a shit father. You abused me, you used me, and you manipulated me. If that weren’t bad enough, you paid the only woman I’d ever loved to rip me apart.” Just thinking about Isabella churns my gut, and I take another deep breath to prevent myself from puking all over his loafers. “I never did anything to you but be born. I didn’t ask for the life I was dealt. I didn’t fucking ask for any of it . . . and I didn’t fucking deserve it.” I notice a momentary softness to his face, but it’s gone again, so I continue. “I have a friend. She’s a good woman, works her ass off. Her ex, Matt, is coming after her to get custody of their kid. He didn’t want shit to do with Ben since Courtney told him she was pregnant. He’s listed on the birth certificate but has never had any contact . . . ever. No child support, nothing.”

I hand him a copy of the notice she was given, and he actually takes it. His fingers open the glasses stuck in his front shirt pocket, and he places them on his face.

I stand impatiently, nauseous, waiting.

“Denton, Stoggen, and Mantin. That’s some big bucks. Who’s her ex?”

“Matt is all I know. I don’t even know his last name.”

“Sutton? That’s what he signed as. And guess who Mr. Sutton just married?” He smirks.

I widen my eyes, signifying that I have no idea what he’s talking about.