I cracked the door open, stunned that he stood there, his piercing blue eyes glaring as if I owed him something. Keeping my body firmly in the gap. My hand tightened on the aluminum bat hidden behind the door.
He could have pushed past me but on the other side of the door, I was holding an aluminum baseball bat. I didn’t want to have to use it. I hoped he didn’t make me.
“What do you want?” I hissed, my voice low but sharp, because I wanted to do the opposite but it might wake Alana.
“You know what I want,” he snapped right back, leaning closer. as if I was the one who had just spent three years in jail.
I narrowed my eyes, pulling the door in tighter. “It’s after eleven, Roger. You’re not coming in here, and you’re certainly not waking up my daughter.”
“Our daughter,” he corrected, his tone dripping with disdain.
I curled my lip. “Unfortunately, I don’t want anything to do with you, Roger. You have to go through the correct channel. Just in case, you forget, you need to contact my lawyer through yours. We’ll set up some time for you to have supervised visits. That’s it.”
His face twisted into something unrecognizable—something that scared me to my core. He had never been violent with me. That was not a side I was used to, nor was the look on his face.
“I want to see my daughter,” he growled, planting one hand on the door and the other on the frame. I knew in the next moment he was going to shove that door so hard it wouldn’t matter if I was holding that bat.
I was so scared at that moment, I almost screamed in terror. Instead, he bellowed, “I want to see my daughter!” at the top of his lungs.
I braced myself, gripping the bat so tightly my knuckles ached. I pictured him barreling his way in, grabbing my baby and leaving with her. I certainly couldn’t have stopped him.
Panic clawed at my chest, and I opened my mouth to scream when the floodlights on Jackson’s house flared to life.
Roger’s head jerked toward the light, and I slammed the door with all the strength I could muster, locking it before he couldrecover. He pounded on the door. This was going to wake up Alana. I just knew it.
I leaned back against the door and turned my head to the side. “Go away, Roger!” I yelled, pressing my back to the door. My voice was tight with fear, but I didn’t care. “Get your lawyer to contact mine! I don’t want to see you again. Ever!”
“You’re going to have to see me, woman!” he roared, pounding the door hard enough to rattle it in its frame. “That’s my daughter in there, and I have rights! You’ll pay for this, Savannah. I’ll make you pay—”
“There a problem over there?” Jackson’s voice cut through the chaos.
I yanked the door open just enough to shout, “It’s my ex-husband!”
Jackson stayed on the other side of his bushes, his silhouette solid and unyielding. “You got a problem, buddy?” he called, his voice steady and calm—but with an edge that carried a clear warning.
Roger’s lip curled. “Got yourself a guard dog, have you?”
For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why I’d found him so attractive before. When we’d first met, his chiseled jaw, straight, white, flashing teeth in a big smile and sky blue eyes had melted my heart. Now, it all just looked ugly to me.
I squared my shoulders, trying to sound braver than I felt. “Maybe. But maybe I needed one.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to be brave and challenging without putting my life at risk. I felt a lot better with Jackson watching.
Roger shot Jackson a glare before retreating to his car. “You’ll be hearing from me,” he yelled over his shoulder.
“Better make it through your lawyer!” I shouted back.
I was mortified that the neighbors might hear him but couldn’t resist calling back, “Better make it through your lawyer, Rog. I don’t want to talk to you again.”
He sped off, tires squealing as he turned in the cul-de-sac.
“You good?” Jackson asked, his voice softer now.
I nodded, giving him a thumbs-up. “Thanks, Jackson.”
I couldn’t say anything more. I was too shaken up. I pulled back into the house and closed the door and locked it.
It wasn’t until that moment I let the panic and fear come crashing down. My hands shook, and I pressed my forehead to the cold wood, tears streaming silently down my cheeks. I was still trying to be quiet because it seemed none of that commotion had woken my baby.
