“Get out or I’m calling the cops.” I pushed on his chest. “Now!”
“I’m going,” he bristled. “Oh, one more thing. I’ve hired a lawyer. Say goodbye to your protected custody.”
A trembling unleashed inside me. No. He was just baiting me. No judge would give him custody.
“You haven’t been in Noah’s life for years. You don’t even support him. They’d never give him to you.”
“No? Courts don’t like criminals, Jess. And only one of us is a convicted felon.”
“I was a juvenile. My files are sealed.”
“Bet your stepfather would be willing to testify on my behalf. I’m sure he doesn’t think you’re a suitable parent. He won’t even let you meet your little sister. I wonder why?”
“That’s none of your business,” I seethed.
“All I’m saying is, don’t think you’re too good for me now, Jess. Just because you’re hanging out with the McKallisters doesn’t mean you belong. Don’t forget, I know who you are. I bet Quinn doesn’t.”
“He knows exactly who I am.”
“I highly doubt that.”
Tears threatened to expose my weaknesses, but I fought them off. I hadn’t hidden anything from Quinn, and he accepted me for who I was.
“I don’t understand your angle. Did you come here to threaten me or my relationship? Because if that’s the case, you’re wasting your time. Quinn knows all about the burglary.”
“Does his family?”
The question was wrapped in a threat. Nick had delivered the final punch, knocking the wind out of me. I leaned against the door for support. He wanted to destroy me. What had I ever done to him, other than to birth his beautiful son?
“What do you want from me?”
He leaned in, his voice low and vindictive. “For you to never be happy.”
* * *
“Mom!” Noah rushed in, alive with excitement, throwing himself in my arms.
“Whoa!” I forced a laugh. Only ten minutes separated Noah’s light from the darkness that had descended like a vampire to suck the happiness right out of me. “Obviously you had fun.”
“Look what Quinn got me for my birthday! It’s my very own guitar.”
“Dude.” Quinn shook his head, attempting to suppress a smile. “What happened to chill? You were going to walk in here like a stud. Go sit down and I’ll hand it to you—gently.”
“Okay,” he said, eagerly assuming the position on the couch.
Quinn opened the guitar case, pulled the guitar out, and laid it carefully in Noah’s arms.
His eyes lit up. “Isn’t she beautiful, Mom?”
He spoke of ‘her’ with the same love and admiration that Quinn spoke of Lucia.
“She’s gorgeous,” I agreed. “Let me hear you play.”
His composition was a disaster, of course, but it was also music to my ears. Noah was learning from a man who deserved to be emulated. There could be nothing more beautiful than that.
“You know, I was around your age when I got my first guitar. My brother gave it to me and he said to name it after the girl who meant the most to me in the whole world. Jake named his Shelle, after our mother.”
Noah barely let Quinn finish his sentence before he said, “I want my guitar to be named Jesse.”
