Page 122 of The Only Goal

He sniffs and scoffs, looking away from me. “I always knew he was my biggest threat.”

“What?” I whisper.

“Get out.” He tips his head toward the door.

I stay where I am, my eyes bulging in surprise.

“Both of you. I want you gone,” he snaps. “You don’t want to be here with me? Then go. I don’t want you.” He swigs the bourbon, wiping the back of his mouth and growling when he notices that I still haven’t moved.

“Hudson.”

“Go!” He stands, pointing at the door behind me. “Get out!”

Kai groans in his sleep, and I shift him to rest his head on my shoulder. His legs dangle by my sides as I gape at his father.

“I don’t understand what?—”

“I wanted to fight for you. I wanted to try and keep this family together, but I see that it’s pointless now. So just go. Get out of my life.”

“But Kai’s your son. He?—”

“He means nothing without you.” His voice is curt and rough and… he is so going to regret saying that one day.

The words burn, slapping me in the heart. He doesn’t want his own son. He doesn’t…

I stumble back, shaking my head and feeling sick as he barks me out of the house.

“Just go! Go be with your new man and forget about me! I don’t need you anymore. I can have any woman I want!”

Hudson’s shouting wakes Kai, and he starts to cry.

“It’s okay.” I rub his back, running into his room and grabbing a few essentials while Hudson continues his drunken rant.

“Fuck you, Tammy! I don’t need you!”

“What’s happening, Mommy?” Kai wails.

“Grab your blanket and Mr. Beans,” I tell him.

“Where are we going?”

I stare down at his cute little face and whisper, “Home.”

CHAPTER 57

BAXTER

Kai’s phone call was more than unsettling. After finally getting my ass up off the floor, I’ve spent over an hour trying to find out where Tammy lives. It wasn’t like I could call and ask her parents, who will no doubt eternally hate me after the way I embarrassed them on Main Street. And it was too late to call Grace and get an address. I probably should have just waited until the morning, but I felt compelled to hunt, so I kept searching until I found a Hudson and Tamara Clark living in Chesterfield, Missouri. It feels right. Chesterfield is only two hours southeast of Gladstone. I write down the address and am tempted to get in my car and start driving. But it’s past midnight, and I can’t show up in the early hours of the morning, knocking on their door, and I don’t want to sit in my truck like some creeper, waiting for sunrise.

I need sleep.

I need to show up calm and in control.

Just a friendly check-in. That’s how I’ll sell it.

Tammy and I are buddies from high school. It doesn’t need to be more than that. I can get a read on the situation and figure out what the hell I’m supposed to say to her then. Maybe I can find out if she’s read my email or not.

Hopefully my gut will know what to say when I knock on her door.

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