“Young lady, don’t you dare ignore us—”
Zulma finished coming down the stairs to the main level. Finn took three paces toward the front of the house until he stood shoulder to shoulder with Robbie, Zulma just to Robbie’s right, forming a human wall.
“You don’t have a granddaughter,” Robbie interrupted firmly. “And if you can’t fix your attitude, you’re not going to have a grandson either, because I will use every resource at my disposal to protect that kid from the damage you’ll do to him.”
“Robert, this woke nonsense—”
Robbie deliberately turned his face away from the assholes—who squawked at his rudeness—and looked at Finn. He touched his hand. “You okay?” Then his eyes caught on Finn’s, and he inhaled sharply. “What happened?” he asked, tracing his fingers gently along what Finn suspected would soon be a spectacular bruise.
Finn grimaced. “Had a little run-in with the door. I’m okay, though.”
Finn might be okay, physically, but Robbie looked like he was going to put his fist through a wall. Or his father’s face. Whichever was closest.
Zulma took in the scene—Robbie flickering between concern for Finn and rage at his parents; Dickhead and Cunt becoming increasingly belligerent in their attempts to defend their asshattery—and calmly interjected, in a voice that somehow carried over everyone else’s, “Quiet, please.”
Somehow that worked. Holy shit. If Finn and Robbie did ever have more kids, Finn was getting Zulma to teach him that.
“Now. Am I correct in deducing that you two are Clive and Deborah Zeiger? Sawyer’s grandparents?”
That’s right, Finn thought, Sawyer’sgrandparents.Except for how they didn’t deserve the title.
Dickhead and Cunt, aka Clive and Deborah, straightened their shoulders. “That’s correct.”
Zulma nodded. “And I understand that the court has awarded you a supervised visitation that’s scheduled for next week?”
Not the fuck anymore, it wasn’t.
“That’s correct,” Deborah repeated.
“Then I will see you at that appointment. However, at this moment, I am conducting an interview with Sawyer and, now that he has arrived, Robbie. I would be happy to set up a time to speak with you before or after your visitation next week.” She produced a card and presented it to Deborah. “I’m sorry, but this simply isn’t a good time. I’m speaking with Sawyer now, and I’m sure Robbie wants to look over Mr.…?”
“Graham,” Finn supplied when she looked at him.
“Mr. Graham,” Zulma continued, inclining her head, “to ensure he does not require medical attention before continuing to speak to me. Now, can I trust that you can find your own way out, or will Mr. Graham have to make good on his offer to call the authorities?”
Fuming and huffing and radiating an aura ofyou haven’t heard the last of us!, Clive and Deborah left.
The door closed loudly behind them.
Robbie locked it.
“Well!” said Zulma bracingly. “That’s certainly going to be a fun report to write. Mr. Zeiger, can I recommend you invest in a doorbell camera?”
Robbie’s shoulders slumped. “I have one,” he said. “I just haven’t hooked it up to Finn’s phone yet.” Then he seemed to process the earlier part of the conversation. “Wait. I’m sorry, but this is exactly why I can’t allow Sawyer to have even a supervised visit with his grandparents. They’re—”
“Heinous?” Zulma suggested. She shook her head. “Yeah, that appointment will be ‘postponed’”—she made air quotes—“until the courts make their recommendation for permanent guardianship.” She paused. “Mr. Graham, I suggest you find some frozen peas for that eye.”
That sounded like a good idea. Suddenly Finn’s head was throbbing.
“And you, Mr. Zeiger—”
“I’m going to get my kid,” Robbie said.
Zulma inclined her head. “Of course. But may I also recommend you consult with your lawyer regarding the advantages and disadvantages of filing criminal charges against your parents, with regards to your custody suit.”
Robbie heaved an enormous sigh. “Yeah,” he agreed. “One thing at a time. Kid first.”
“Go,” Finn told him. “Zulma can make sure I don’t pass out while I ice my face.”
