Kyleigh’s eyes slid to her. “Nothing is on the record. This is my porch, not a courtroom,” she dismissed.
Zahara didn’t waver. “You just admitted you named her after his middle name. Based on timing, age, and your shared history, we both know what that means. If you think that’s not coming up in front of a judge, you’re not as smart as everybody says you are.”
A spark of heat lit Kyleigh’s eyes at that. “You really think I’m scared of court?” she asked.
“I don’t think you scared of anything. That’s half the problem. So let me be clear. I’ll be filing to establish paternity, custody, and visitation. We will be requesting a DNA test. We will be asking the court to look at the fact that you knowingly withheld the existence of his child for the entirety of her life. You want a fight? You got one. I’m taking my brother’s case, and we not letting you rest ’til he sees his daughter.”
Kyleigh’s lips curved into a real smile then. It was pretty and vicious at the same time.
“I have lawyers on retainer who bill more in an hour than your mortgage. If you think you’re the first person to threaten me with court, Ms. Christopher, you are sadly mistaken. Do your best, honey.”
The way she said it wasn’t bragging. It was a warning. Suddenly, I knew the truth of her words. Wedidn’tknow each other anymore. Because this cynical, cold person? That wasn’t my Kyleigh.
“And if you thinkI’mscared to spend every dime necessary to protect my child and my peace, you don’t know me, either. Y’all protect your own. I protect mine,” she added.
Zahara stepped forward, shoulders squared. “You right about one thing. We do protect our own, and she isours, too. You deliberately cut a father out of his daughter’s life for nine years. Girl, ain’t nobody letting this lie just ’cause you got history and hurt feelings.”
“History and hurt feelings?” she laughed a little. “So, you not gon’ tell her about my father coming to you?”
My jaw clenched so hard it hurt. That conversation with her father didn’t help her case and we’d definitely deal with that later. Right now, I agreed with Zah, but my mind was on the implications of what Kyleigh said. “You talking like I’m a danger. Like I’d ever hurt her,” I gritted out.
“I told you, I don’t know you,” she responded.
I stepped closer to the threshold, close enough to see the little tremble in her hand on the door. My cousins grabbed me again.
“I’m good,” I assured them before turning to my daughter’s mother. “I’m not walking away. I don’t care how much money you got. I don’t care how many lawyers you pull. I’m her father. She gon’ know me.”
“And I’m her mother,” she said, matching my tone. “She gon’ be safe, before anything.”
Zahara slid half a step-in front of blocking, just in case. “We heard you, and you heard us. Enjoy your evening, Ms. Grindley. I’ll have something filed before New Year’s.”
Kyleigh maintained her smile. “Merry Christmas, Ms. Christopher. I hope you all enjoy fighting. I’ve had a decade to practice.”
With that, she stepped back and closed the door. It was a quiet little click, but it sounded off loud in the silence of the clear night. Fury had my hands shaking so bad I had to curl them into fists again. That wasn’t like me, the shaking. Only for her. Nobody said anything for a long second.
Finally, Truth muttered, “Well. That went… terrible.”
Braeden blew out a breath. “I’m not gon’ lie. I respect the hell out of her nerve. Hate it but respect it. Shorty got balls.”
Zahara was already unlocking her phone, thumbs flying. “Brae, you sexist. And who the fuck she think she is? Sitting up here on this hill done went to her damn head. Talking bout she ain’t scared. Heffa, we ain’t scared, either. Evva! I’m emailing my assistant tonight. We starting this process yesterday.”
Ajani’s eyes stayed on me. “You straight?” he asked quietly.
“No,” I said. “But I will be.”
I turned back toward the driveway, the town spread out below, a sea of lights. All that cheer, and I wasn’t feeling it. My training kicked in without me having to call it. My brain startedmapping out terrain, timing, resources. Not for violence—never toward her—but for a different kind of war.
She had money. She had land. She had time. But I had things, too, like a family that moved like a lethal unit, a last name with weight in this town, and a daughter. I had adaughter. I was going to strategize and strike where it counted. I was coming for my place in my daughter’s life.
It was the most important mission I’d ever had.
I closed the door slowly,waited till the latch clicked, then let my forehead rest against the glass. My hand was still on the knob. It was shaking. I’d just stood on my own porch and told a line of Christophers they couldn’t have anything on this property. Not the pine trees. Not me.
Not my daughter.
I’d smiled. I’d kept my voice smooth and civilized. I’d even thrown in a little rich-girl threat for flavor, disgusting myself. I was apparently good at fronting. Now that the show was over, my stomach was somewhere down around my ankles.
“Ma’am? Shall I activate the additional perimeter alarms?” Mr. Benton’s voice came from a few feet away. He was holdingone of his silver trays, like he’d materialized straight from some black-and-white movie.
