Page 38 of Love Me Fierce

I stare him down. “I have full custody. You want to see the documents?”

His eye twitches, like he’s considering this option. “His father just gave him up?” he asks.

“Yep.” I lean back on my arms, like I have this situation under control.Think you can rattle me? Go ahead.

“Why did you leave California?”

“I wanted a change.”

He takes a step closer, forcing my gaze to lift. “A change from what?”

Palm trees hanging limp in the summer heat. Noise. Loneliness. Crying myself to sleep. “My ex-husband.”

The planes of his face harden. “Tell me about him.”

I look away. “Drop it, Everett.”

“Are you running from him?” His tone has softened, but it’s not enough to warm the ice in my veins.

“No.”

“So, he had no problem with you moving here with Mateo? He just let you walk out of his life.”

“Why is that so hard to believe?” My chest starts buzzing. It’s a warning. We are getting too close to the things I keep inside.

To my horror, that hardened look on his face breaks, and he grimaces.

Hell fucking no. Not pity.

“Did he hurt you?” Everett asks.

I coax in a slow breath, but it doesn’t stop the buzzing chill from rising to my cheeks. “No.”At least not like that.“He’s a cop, Everett, okay?”

His frame stiffens.

Now do you get it?I want to ask.

“What’s wrong with him being a cop?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

Everett shakes his head, his lips pressed tight with frustration. “Your body language says otherwise.”

“Don’t take it personally.”

He wipes down his stubbled chin, the scrape of his whiskers against his palm filling the silence. “When was the last time you were in contact with him?”

“Two years maybe.”

His head cocks to the side. “He’s not in your life at all? Not even to find out about Mateo? Talk to him?”

“No.”

His face twists in disgust. “How about child support?”

“He deposits money every month in an account…” I bite the rest back. I don’t need to share that I’m only using the child support money to pay off my divorce. Or that using Kent’s dirty money for any other purpose feels wrong. Like I’m part of the problem.

“He has no reason to break into my trailer.” I jump to my feet, my muscles burning with the need to move. To escape.

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