Page 24 of Roundabout

“I already fucking told you, Bentlee wouldn’t…” Marc stops, his gray eyes narrowing at the phone in his grip.

“What is it?”

“Paige. Doesn’t she have work today?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because she’s on the move now, too. Same fucking direction.”

“That woman loves a good spankin’.” Beck puts his helmet over his head, lifting the visor. “Ooh, boys. Now we’ve got ourselves a fair fight.”

“It’s not a fight,” I tell him, not even convincing myself.

Marc drops his hand by his side and sighs as he shakes his head. “It will be if Angela tries taking Jace from us.”

We stare at each other, so much uncertainty sitting between us.

How did we get here? Us versus Angela?

It feels weird even thinking it. Worse than weird. It feels fucking wrong. Suiting up to go against…Angela? My other half? I’d rather shoot myself in the right hand, blow the whole fucking thing to bits, than fight Angela about anything. Literally fucking anything. I don’t even argue when she buys the salad mix with the spinach in it, and I fucking hate spinach.

“I’m gonna try calling her again,” I say. I have to. Angela is us.

“You do that,” Beck says. “We’ll get a head start.”

“Motherfuck.” Marc shoves his own helmet over his head. “Don’t go near my wife,” he threatens Beck, handing him his phone back. “I’ll fucking handle her.”

When I hear the voicemail kick on, I hang up. No point in wasting time on a message she’ll be hearing straight from my mouth soon enough.

Her and whoever the fuck dirtied her Jeep.

CHAPTER 7

Angela

The mediator gives me a tight smile as we get up from the long table. “Congratulations, Ms. Taylor.” He sticks his hand out to me.

After staring at the large, weathered palm free of the same sweat that’s been coating mine for the last five hours, I wipe my hand on my pants before giving his a shake. Congratulations. This doesn’t feel like a victory. It does, but not a whole one, not yet. I have to talk to Coty first, because without him…

I have to talk to Coty.

“Thanks,” I say, then turn to Marshall, telling him the same thing. This wouldn’t have been possible without his help.

“I gotta be honest, she had me nervous there for a bit,” Beckett’s father says.

I bob my head. “Me, too.”

Nora did exactly what I expected her to do, yet still managed to catch me off guard with her ridiculous demands. She didn’t just come to play today, she came to win.

And I let her.

I wouldn’t have custody of Brittni and Makya if I didn’t though, and they’re priceless. Their safety is priceless.

Hopefully, Coty sees it that way, too. I need him to because he’s my safety.

We take care of payments, then the mediator bids us goodbye, slipping out the door, probably to go do the exact same thing in the conference room just across the hall, minus collect payment because along with mine, I paid Nora’s fees, too. It makes my skin crawl imagining him congratulating her. She’s the one who lost, even though I’m sure she doesn’t see it like that.

Alone with Marshall, the man who resembles his son in so many ways except his height, I head for the door, already reaching into my purse for my phone. It’s been on silent mode the entire time we’ve been in here, negotiating the terms and price for the adoption of the girls. Not seeing my engagement ring on my finger makes me pause. It’s funny, I’ve gone almost twenty-nine years without one, but after wearing the ring Coty gave me for less than a week, I’m already used to it. Seeing my hand bare now is…sad.