Page 31 of Better Together

When the song faded out, Colt remembered the number written on his palm. He’d have to call the caseworker and find out where the kids were, but having that conversation would solidify the truth he was still struggling to accept.

“Thanks for coming,” he said quietly in the lull before the next song began.

“What?” Remi asked, much louder than necessary since there wasn’t any music to drown out his words.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” It was a truth that was almost too scary to put into words. He’d never lost someone he loved. Well, he’d probably loved his mom at some point, but he couldn’t remember a single thing about her. His dad had done enough to make sure he was completely unlovable, so there weren’t any missed signals there. The man didn’t care about anything except his next beer.

But Remi, Colt wasn’t sure what his life would be like without her in it, and he couldn’t sit around wondering. It would crush him.

“You’d be fine.”

“I’m serious. My happy world just turned into a tornado, and you’re still hanging on. You’re my ride or die.”

Remi held up a finger, pointing it menacingly at the ceiling. “Don’t get sappy and start waxing poetic, cowboy.”

The wildfire in Colt’s chest waned at her slight jab. “But you’re my best friend in the whole wide world,” he crooned.

“Wow. You need to meet new people if I’m the best you got.”

Remi gasped and bolted ramrod straight in her seat. “Speaking of meeting people, I met Camille Harding at the Blackwater Fall Festival last year.”

Colt scratched his chin, trying to piece together why that bit of info was so important. “Okay… I’ve met her before too.”

Remi waved one hand in the air. “She said she’s an attorney. A family law attorney.”

Colt nodded. “Ohh. I forgot about that.”

Bouncing in her seat, Remi swatted at his arm. “We have to get her to help us. We have no idea what we’re doing.”

“You think we need legal help? Do you think they won’t let me have Ben and Abby?” The thought had his stomach turning like rocks in a tumbler.

“I have no idea. I hope they will, but maybe we need to call Camille and find out what we can expect when we get to Newcastle.”

“That sounds like a great idea, but there’s no way I’m calling a stranger on a Sunday to ask for legal help. Plus, I have no idea what she charges.”

Remi gripped his arm as her attention wavered from the road to him and back to the road. “We might only get one shot at this, and I’m not a fan of losing.”

“You can say that again. You broke my favorite mug after you lost the fantasy football season last year.”

“The handle was weak. I barely placed it on the table and the thing just fell off in my hand.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, princess.”

Remi picked up his phone from the console and tossed it at his chest. “Call around until you find Camille’s phone number.”

“I’m not calling her on a Sunday.”

“Who do you think is driving this mayday parade?” Remi shouted. “We’ll call her in the morning, but you can find her number now because you’re gonna want it after you talk to that caseworker.”

Remi was right. The thought of talking to the caseworker on his own and somehow messing everything up before he secured custody of the kids was terrifying.

“Okay, you win. Now, will you please ease up on the gas? This truck isn't built for the wrong side of ninety.”

Chapter9

Remi

Remi whistled as they walked up onto the porch of Mark and Brittany’s house. The two-story farmhouse boasted tall columns in the front, a three-car garage, and what looked to be dozens of acres stretching for miles around them.

---