We need to talk.
I text Danika for the tenth time this week. My phone signals me that she’s read the message but like all the others, it goes unanswered.The plush leather chair in my dad’s office makes that distinct rubbing sound as I shift in it. I hate that it’s come to this, but I’m out of options.
“You tried, son.” My dad sounds empathetic, but I know his emotions aren't genuine. He doesn’t care about me or Molly. This is an act he gives his clients. “It’s my turn.”
I lean my elbows against my knees and rest my head in my hands. This doesn’t feel right, threatening Danika with kidnapping charges if she doesn’t bring Molly back. She’s going to hate me. “Is there any other way?”
“Well,” Dad says, twisting a pen between his fingers. He leans back in his chair, the spring in it rocking. It’s hard to process this version of my father, civil and professional. I’m so used to the hard ass who raised me. He’s like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. “We could go the traditional route of filing for custody, but we’d have to prove Danika is an unfit mother for Molly to come home.”
That won’t work. Knowing Danika, she’s probably a fantastic mother. She instinctively knew how to take care of me. I can only imagine how great she is with our daughter. “We won’t actually charge her with kidnapping, right?”
Dad smirks. “It’s only a threat. If she doesn’t move back home then we can discuss the next step.”
He pulls a small stack of papers from the manilla envelope on his desk and spins them to face me. I stare at the inked letters, not bothering to read them. I wish there was another way, but I have to know my daughter. “Give me a pen.”
Danika
“Excuse me, are you Danika Winters?” a chipper voice calls from behind me.
I stop looking through the never ending envelopes demanding money and peer over my shoulder. “Yes.”
The girl, who barely looks older than sixteen, finishes stepping out of her green Toyota Corolla. She leaves the driver’s door open, jogs up the driveway, and hands me an envelope. I feel the color drain from my face as I read the black printed letters. An invisible noose tightens around my neck. My chest is tight to the point I can barely draw in a breath. I think I might be having a panic attack.
“I'm sorry ma’am.” The girl snaps a picture of me with her phone. “But you’ve been served.”
I hear her footsteps disappear behind me but everything besides my name on the cream colored eight by eleven envelope is a blur. My legs give out and I fall to the curb outside Nona’s apartment complex. I’m sure my ass will be bruised tomorrow, but I can’t feel anything because my whole body is numb.
I’ve dreaded this moment since leaving Florida. Logan’s called me daily since I returned home, texted me on multiple occasions, too. I had hoped that if I ignored him, he’d think he had the wrong number and give up. I should have known better.
With shaking hands, I tear the seal on the envelope. I slide the snow white paper out and attempt to read but the words blur together through tear filled eyes. I drop the letter in my lap and wipe pooling tears away. I don’t need to read the papers, I already know what they say.
Logan wants shared custody.
He wants to be a part of my daughter's life and my biggest fear is that once he realizes how much work she is, he’ll walk away.
I force myself to take a breath and count to three. I need help and Nona doesn’t have the kind of money legal representation costs. Knowing Logan’s dad, he’s going to fight me tooth and nail every way he can. A case like this would drain all of Nona’s retirement savings and while I know she will offer, I can’t do that.
I fish my phone out of my purse and dial the only person who can help me. My dad. Even though we haven’t talked since the wedding and I know he’s going to be mad at me, I’m his daughter. His only daughter. He has to help.
“Hello?” he answers after the first ring.
“Dad, I need your help.” My voice shakes. Then again, so does the rest of my body.
“What’s wrong, princess?” Dad asks, his tone hard with worry but before I can answer, we’re interrupted.
“I see your papers came,” Logan says and I can almost see him gloating through the phone.
Fire courses through me, singing any tears that hadn’t yet escaped. He’s there with my dad. That means Dad knew all along what Logan’s plan was. That he and Tessa gave Logan my phone number and address. I assumed it was Piper, since she’s avoided my calls, but knowing it was my Dad that betrayed me is a thousand times worse. “How could you!”
Logan laughs in the background, confirming my suspicion that I’m on speaker.
“How could you hide something like this from us, Danika? From me?” Dad asks.
“I didn’t have much choice. How many times did you tell me not to make you a grandfather?” Too many. That was the deciding factor to leave, I knew I wouldn’t have Dad’s support. But the moment I told Nona I was pregnant, she had my back. She offered no judgement, just possible solutions.
I can practically see my dad shaking his head on the other side of the line. His silence spoke volumes when he was mad at Mom. Their fights were always one sided because he refused to engage, it only pissed Mom off more.
“What did you expect us to do, princess? You wouldn't answer Logan’s calls, wouldn’t tell him anything about Molly. He had no choice.”