Page 79 of Finding Home

“You want to feed ducks with this nice lady?” I choke out.

“No,” Raine says into my chest, and my heart feels like it’s physically cracking.

“You love feeding ducks, Shortcake.”

“Dadda feed ducks.”

The social worker tries to coax her, but Raine digs in her proverbial heels.

I’m at a loss.

Unwilling to set her down, now that she’s clinging to me for dear life.

But like Aubrey said, this isn’t optional. I’m required to do this by court order.

Shit. If I come home and tell Aubrey I never handed Raine over today, she’s going to lose her shit. “Just for a few minutes,” I coo to Raine. “It’ll be fun.” I start to put her down again, but she clings to me even more fiercely and screams, “No, Dadda! No, no, nooooo!”

My heart feels like it’s shattering into a million pieces. No is her favorite word these days, but her normal protestations don’t sound anything like this. In this moment, my baby sounds genuinely terrified. Like she’s seen a ghost. Does she have a sixth sense about this dangerous, soulless man, or is my body language somehow setting her off?

Stuffing down tears, I tell Raine I’ll be nearby. That this will only take a few minutes. That this is the same nice lady she played dolls with the other day. But reasoning with a toddler is a fool’s errand, and my words have zero impact.

Finally, the social worker tries her hand at coaxing Raine. And just as she seems to be softening a bit in my arms, maybe even warming to the idea, Ralph starts barking at her to be obedient and do as she’s told, and my baby bursts into tears and clutches me for dear life.

Fuck it.

He might not have touched her, but his harsh tone clearly scared her shitless. Whether I’m under a court order or not, I’m going to do what’s best for my daughter and get her the hell out of here.

Holding Raine firmly against my chest, I coo, “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to go. Dadda’s got you.” As Ralph loses his shit, I glare at the social worker, daring her to contradict me. “Either I’m staying here with her, or I’m taking her away now.”

“He can’t do this!” Ralph barks. “Make him give her to me!”

“Sir,” the social worker says to Ralph. “Take a step back and keep quiet.”

“I willnotkeep quiet. He’s violating my legal rights!”

“Sir, step back. I won’t warn you again.”

I’ve heard enough.

With my arms wrapped securely around Raine, I say to the social worker, “My daughter is obviously terrified of this man, and for good reason. He’s a stranger to her.”

Beaumont scoffs. “Says the guy who only met her a month ago.”

I have no comeback for that, unfortunately, so I turn and stride silently to my car, as Beaumont screams bloody murder behind me and the social worker yells at him to calm down and remain quiet.

“You’re okay, baby,” I whisper soothingly to Raine, as I strap her into her car seat. “Dadda’s got you. I’m taking you home now, baby.”

Raine wipes a tear. “To Mommy?”

The last remaining, dangling shard of my heart splinters and crumbles. “No, love, to our house at the beach.”

I shut the door on her tear-streaked face, quaking with adrenaline. As I head to the driver’s door, Ralph shouts, “Thanks for violating the court’s order, asshole! That’s only going to help me and hurt you, dumbass!”

I slide into the driver’s seat, feeling sick to my stomach. Is he right? Am I screwing myself by walking away? Am I too focused on a specific tree, rather than the forest?

I pull my car out of the spot, as Ralph charges at my car, his face as red as a beet.

As he approaches, I roll down my window. Not to hear the string of expletives he’s shouting at me, but to shoutsomething I probably shouldn’t: “See you in court, motherfucker! And after that, in fucking hell.”

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