Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“How’s the pain?” I ask.
“I’m okay. Ibuprofen is covering it for the most part.” She glances at me through lowered lids. “Thank you for taking me to the hospital today… and staying with me while they stitched me up. I’m not a big fan of hospitals. Bad memories and all that.” She treats me to a sad smile.
“Care to share?” I am curious about Mia, her past and what makes her tick.
She sighs. “My mom died of cancer. I was an only child and I spent a lot of time in hospitals until she passed away. Needles, IVs, the antiseptic smell…” She curls a leg beneath her on the sofa. “I’m squeamish and I hate pain, but I was already worked up before the doctor took out the injection to numb me.”
And after the awful hospital stays with her mom, she went to foster care, I think, a little girl left alone, without a relative in the world to love her. Pain fills me at the thought.
I manage a smile so she won’t think I am pitying her. She is a proud, strong woman and won’t appreciate the sentiment. “I think you handled the whole thing pretty well. Except for the part when you shook in my arms. But I liked being there for you, so it’s all good.” I try to make light of the situation.
She laughs, which was my goal.
“I am sorry about your mom,” I say, not wanting to be callous and ignore what she confided in me.
“Thanks. It’s funny, the things I remember and those I don’t. I remember what my mom looked like, I think… but not what she smelled like. But I remember the scent and look of the hospital she died in.” Mia shrugs, obviously used to living with the past. “Who knows how memory works.”
“I wish I knew the answer to that,” I say, my tone so deadly serious she jerks her head up to meet my gaze.
“Why?”
I blow out a long breath, wanting to have this conversation, as much for myself as for my daughter. I need to talk to someone, and both my gut and my heart tell me this woman will help me and understand. “Bailey was four when her mother left and I don’t know what she remembers. Does she recall her mom flinging her around by her arm? Hurting her? Leaving bruises?” I wince at the thought, my protectiveness rising as it always does when it comes to my daughter.
“Oh, Austin.” Mia places a hand on my shoulder, her touch both arousing and soothing at the same time. “That has to be so hard for you to wonder.”
I nod. “It is. And Kayla showed up at my office earlier today.” Just the memory of seeing her, of her smug attitude and lack of caring about our daughter, has me seething all over again.
As if sensing my reaction, she begins to massage my shoulder where she touches me, working the muscles with her one good hand.
Her touch is electric, the desire to do more than talk filling me, but the situation needs to be explained.
“What did she want?” Mia asks.
“She handed me a notice of a custody hearing,” I say through clenched teeth. “It was her big shot. She wanted me to know she’s not above taking this all the way if I don’t pay her off beforehand.”
Mia shakes her head, her expression one of horror. I agree. I don’t know how any mother can bargain over a child.
“No wonder you’re upset. There has to be something you can do.” Mia looks at me with all the faith in the world.
Faith I desperately need to believe in. “I hired a private investigator to look into her life. Top to bottom, from her finances to her personal life, her contacts, friends, men she hangs around with. You name it. I don’t care how intrusive, I want everything he can dig up.”
Mia nods her approval. “Good. I’m sure if she’s willing to play dirty with you, she’s not squeaky-clean in her personal life.”
“That’s my hope. But all this just sucks. Because it comes back to what Bailey remembers. If she does recall what her mom did to her, my custody situation would be that much stronger… assuming a court would rely on the memory of a small child.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, a headache forming at my next thought. “But what kind of shitty father… am I to even want her to recall that just because it’ll help me to keep her?”
Mia leans onto her knees and scoots closer to me, the warmth of her body a much-needed balm to my senses. “You’re the best father I know. Seriously. Bailey is the luckiest little girl in the world. Don’t ever doubt it,” she says, reassuring me.
“You have no idea what it means to hear that.” I pause, thinking about what possible plans my ex could have in the future. I don’t put it past her to act underhandedly. “I want you to be careful when you’re out, especially with Bailey, and if you see Kayla or she tries to approach Bailey, I need to know about it immediately.”