Page 14 of Tactical Revival

“You left us when you followed her out of this town!” I yell, slamming both hands onto the table.

His cheeks turn red as he looks around to see who’s watching. “Keep your voice down, Margot. This is not anyone else’s business.”

I take a deep breath to steady myself, trying to calm the rage burning in my chest. “You cheated on me. You left Matty behind. Do not come in here acting like I threw you out for no reason and slammed the door on you on your way out.”

“You got the B&B. I didn’t take a cut from you even though selling our house is what helped you keep that ridiculous place. And you kept full custody.”

“Because you signed your rights away!”

“I didn’t think I had a choice!”

He’s lying. I know it. He knows it. Everyone in here probably knows it. Signing his parental rights away to avoid child support had been his idea. He’d asked me to keep Matty because his son reminded him too much of me. He’d actually told me that seeing Matty would be a reminder of the jail cell I kept him imprisoned in since the moment he got me pregnant.

“I cannot believe you’re saying this.” I shake my head as tears burn in my eyes.

I will not cry.

Not out of sadness. Or anger. Or frustration.

“I want what is owed to me.”

“And just what do you think that is?” I demand. “What do I have that you want?”

“Partial custody of Matty. And half of the profit of the sale of our house.”

I gape at him. “No. Absolutely not.”

“I thought you would say that.” He reaches onto the seat beside him and hands me a manila folder. “Papers that I’m filing. I’ll see you in court.”

“Here’s your food.” Lanetti sets his plate and my Styrofoam container down, but I barely register it as I stare down at the manila folder.

“You’re taking me to court?”

“Yes. I want what’s mine.”

I don’t even realize I’m standing until I slam both hands down onto the table and lean in, aggression lacing my tone. I could strangle him. Bury him in the backyard or throw him into the ocean, I’m so angry. “What’s yours? How about what was mine! How about promises you made to me and Matty? How about that?” I scream at him, my cheeks heating.

“You’re making a scene,” he growls, and his hand tightens into a fist on the table. It’s not meant as a threat, I get that, but I take it as one.

“You will not get custody of Matty. Do you understand me? Not while I’m still breathing, and not even once I’m gone. The only way he will see you is if he chooses to. I swear to you, Chad, you will never get another thing from me.”

“That’s for the court to decide.” His gaze lifts to someone behind me, and I know that Jaxson is there. I can feel the warmth of his body, the steady presence of Jaxson Payne. “This is none of your business, Payne,” Chad snarls.

“No, it’s not. And I’ll walk away if Margot wants me to.”

“No. I don’t.” Straightening, I grab my purse. “I’ll see you in court, Chad.” Mortified that I let my anger get the better of me, I storm out of the diner. I don’t have to look behind me to know that Jaxson followed.

Nor do I need confirmation that he walks quietly behind me all the way across the street and toward the pier overlooking the ocean. I grip the wooden railing and breathe deeply, trying to steady my mood.

How can this be happening?

How did Chad even manage to find a lawyer to take his case?

And then I remember—his mistress was going to law school. Is that what happened? I open the manila folder and glare down at the name of his legal representation.

Chelsea Brogan.

“You have got to be kidding me.” I start to fling the papers into the ocean when a large hand closes over mine. Heat shoots up my arm, attraction eating away at the anger. Our gazes meet for a moment, then Jaxson plucks the papers from my hands, releasing me.

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