Page 5 of Double Take

“Perfect.” He stands and licks his lips. “I won’t rush her.”

“Oliver…,” I growl. “It’s my turn, and don’t forget it. At the end of the day, if she’ll only see one of us, it’s me.”

“Bite me.” Oliver winks. “I’ll steal her out from under you before you can blink.”

I snatch a yellow smiley-faced stress ball off my desk and hurl it at his head. He laughs and dips his head to the left, dodging my strike and causing it to smack against the wall.

“Shit.” His face turns white as he snatches the door open. Rylee stares at the door with wide eyes. “Hey, babe, everything’s fine. My brother and I played baseball, so he’s got good aim, but we also did track and I’m faster than him.”

“I see.” Her eyes dart from his to mine. When she realizes we’re not about to beat each other up or knock her over the head, one corner of her mouth arches upward. “I wish I would’ve had a sibling to roughhouse with. It looks like fun.”

The second the words come out of her mouth, the humor drops from her face, and she spins to face her desk.

This isn’t going to be easy. Rylee is so guarded that she can’t handle being happy for 10 seconds. Baby steps. Don’t push her.

Son of a bitch. I’m typically the calm, cool, and collected brother. While Oliver is the hot head that flies off the handle. But I’m struggling to tamp down my desire to drag her home and keep her safe from the world.

Chapter Three

Rylee

My heart beats erratically in my chest. It was a ball. There’s no need to freak out.

Tell that to my heart. I press my hand to my chest. I know it’ll get better. I’ve read about toxic relationships and PTSD and have my first aid kit of steps to take when something startles me–breathe, count to 10, go to my happy place, assess the situation for true levels of danger, don’t catastrophe, and repeat if necessary. I know it’ll take time, but I’m growing frustrated with acting like a scared mouse.

Remember. It took four years for you to get up the nerve to escape with your daughter. You won’t blink your eyes and have all the damage of living with him disappear.

After rotating my shoulders, I fire up my computer. It’s time to pick an attorney. With Charles not wanting the money back yet, I can afford to at least figure out who to use and get an estimate of how much the entire process will cost. Mario’s family has deep pockets, so I must calculate that into the mix.

I click on the mouse, bringing up the local attorney listing, and scan the names. None of them look reasonable in price except an older man with an obviously fake toupee. The wig is black, when his remaining hair is salt and pepper, heavy on the salt. He could’ve gotten a matching hairpiece to improve his professional image.

Once I dismiss him, I tap on the second line for Linda Hardee, Attorney at Law. Her website is bright and uncluttered, giving it a sense of elegance that could be as fake as a three-dollar bill.

That’s the problem with the internet–appearances are deceiving. I should know. Mario was a master at manipulation and pretending to the entire world that he was a standup guy. Our social media feed was full of happy, smiling photos of us cheesing for the camera. It was a lie.

I go over her information, searching for anything that stands out. Everything looks good, and her testimonials are spot on. But I don’t know anyone here. I return to the main listing, tap my fingertips on the desk, and glance at Axel’s door. I’m not asking them. The fewer people who know who I am and where I’m from, the better.

Before I can think of a way to find out more about the different attorneys in the area, the phone rings. “Dickerson Construction, how may I help you?” This time, I didn’t jump, and it’s like I’ve won the lottery.

“Hello, Ms. Rylee. Is Axel in?” The woman’s voice is warm and welcoming. Every day this week, the same woman calls–Amanda King. I assume she’s his girlfriend or one of his girlfriends since this Sage girl called earlier.

“Yes, he’s in. Let me patch you through.” My voice is crisp and professional. I’m not going to get up in my feelings over a guy that would never be interested in me. And why would he be? I’m married, broke, and on the run with my four-year-old daughter. No one is going to want my baggage. Besides, she sounds classy and gorgeous. I can’t compete with that.

I poke Axel’s number and wait for him to answer. “Hello?” His voice is husky, instantly causing my nipples to harden.

“You have a call. It’s Ms. King.”

“Oh….” His voice softens. “Send her through.”

I click on the button, connecting him to her, and hang up. Definitely a girlfriend. Well, that’s depressing. Focus on what’s important. You’ve got to find an attorney and figure out how much this divorce will cost you.

A few minutes later, Oliver clears his throat.

“Oh, my God.” I clutch my chest again and sink into the chair as he ambles from behind me. Maybe I should turn my desk around to face Axel’s office so people don’t sneak up on me. Dumbass, that’s not going to help. Then, you’d freak out when people came through the main door. “You scared the life out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” His eyes darken as he clasps his hand on my shoulder. “Are you okay? Axel and I have noticed you’ve been jumpy. Is there anything we can help you with?” His palm burns my skin through the thin fabric of my shirt, and my mouth dries until it feels like I’m swallowing around sawdust. I’ve never been around a man who oozed so much power and sex appeal, and there are two of them.

“Umm…. I….” I cough and smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”

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