Page 68 of Tortured Tones

Always such a pleasure. I made my way past Wyatt and Sloane at the door and walked into the small parking lot. I’d been to this boutique that was tucked in behind Rodeo Drive several times with other clients. Gabrielle, the owner, was a vision of classic Hollywood elegance and dressed many celebrities for events. She’d worked with The Flintlocks for years thanks to their friend and stylist, Kara Collins, who was based in New York.

I stopped beside Cole’s car. “Okay, Luther. What’s up?”

“I have to go to New York for the rest of the week and I have to take Josh with me. So you won’t be able to have him tomorrow night.”

“What?” The breath shot from my lungs. My heart tore in two. We’d already agreed on several date changes to suit both his travel arrangements and my tour with the band. This had been one of them. I’d always been flexible, but I was tied to a tight schedule for the next few months. Any alteration would impact my time with Josh. This was so Luther. He’d do anything to hurt me. Asshole. “No. It’s my time with him.”

“Zoe is coming with me.” Luther’s blunt voice sliced through the speaker. “So Josh has to as well.”

“No.” Desperation clawed my brain. “He can stay with me. He has school. Sport. I’d love to have him.”

“No.”

“Luther, don’t do this.” The pain in my chest crushed my ribs.

“It’s an urgent trip. I’m sorry.” There was not an ounce of compassion or sympathy in his cold tone. “I have a huge meeting to attend. It’s all arranged. End of story.”

My head dropped back. Tears pricked my eyes. “Please, let Josh stay with me.”

“No. We’re leaving tonight.”

“Tonight? You’re supposed to give me more notice than this.” Pacing, I stabbed the air. “This is wrong, Luther, and you know it.”

“This meeting was called an hour ago, Ava. I’m giving you as much notice as possible. I have the majority custody. What I say goes. Remember that.”

“Fuck you.” I clenched my fist, my jaw, every muscle. “Not for much longer.”

“We’ll see about that.”

My blood boiled red hot. “Oh, we will. My lawyer will be hearing about this. You’re breaking the rules of our agreement.”

“You and your rules,” he hissed. “Don’t play dirty with me, Ava. You will lose.”

“I don’t have to play dirty.” I said through clenched teeth. Acid-filled tears burned my cheek. I refused to let him get the upper hand. “The law is on my side, Luther. You’re in the wrong. If you take Josh tomorrow, let me have him for a night when you get back. You’re not allowed to keep him away from me.”

Silence.

I pounded my fist against my forehead. My stomach twisted into knots. Listening to Luther’s breath on my cell phone was not on my wish list.

“I’ll think about it. I’ll text you.”

Luther hung up.

Fuuuuck! Fucking son-of-a-bitch. Motherfucking asshole. How had I ever loved that man?

Squatting near Cole’s car, I wiped my hand down my face and took several deep breaths to regain my composure. My head ached. But as I looked up, Cole, dressed in his jeans and a hoodie, walked toward me, holding out a large takeaway cup with steam rising from the lip on the lid.

“Looks like you need this. Coffee?”

You have no idea how much. Pity I couldn’t drink alcohol on duty, but this was the next best thing. But shit...I stood, sniffled, and wiped my cheeks dry on my suit jacket. “Thanks. But I’m fine.”

“Ava. You’re not. Is there anything I can do to help?”

I dug my fingernails into my palms to steady myself. “No.”

“Get this into you.” He raised the coffee cup again.

I held out my shaky hand and took the drink. “Thank you.” As I took a sip, I did a quick scan of the busy car-lined street. Only two shoppers carrying their purchases headed along the sidewalk in the opposite direction. More security guards stood outside other high-end boutiques nearby. It was coming into awards season, so it was busy. But nothing raised concern.

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