I gaped but managed to eke out a, “What?”
He shrugged in the face of my shock. “It sucks. The pay is shit, and so are the hours. You don’t even like it.”
He added that as an afterthought, but of course, I didn’t like it. Damn him for knowing that. “Wait a minute. How do you know how much I make?”
His eyes flickered. “You work shifts in a low-end bakery. How much can it pay? Besides, I’m in the industry.”
That made sense, I supposed. But still… “It would take time to find a better job. How would I pay my share?”
“I didn’t ask you to move in because I need a roommate, Allie.”
The effect of his sarcasm was offset by the teasing light in his eyes. I tightened my grip on the shower curtain to shield myself from the cold air and his hotness. “How will I pay you back for the lawyer?”
He snorted. “It wasn’t going to be a loan. Besides…there won’t really be a regular bill.”
That alarmed me.
“Relax,” he said. “He’s a real lawyer. He’s already on retainer, that’s all, with my brother.”
I wanted nothing to do with his brother, and Colin knew it. I especially didn’t like the idea of using his lawyer, someone who might have a different agenda. And worse, if the lawyer was paid by Colin’s brother, I’d owe him.
“No,” I said.
Colin didn’t look the least bit perturbed, as if he’d known I’d say that.
“It’s not about the money. He’s good at what he does.” Colin paused to give me a look, confirming that yes, the guy had gotten them out of illegal shit before. “I wouldn’t trust just any lawyer to help with this, seeing as, well…fathers have legal rights. Visitation, joint custody.” He shrugged away the awful words.
“I see,” I said through clenched teeth. “If you think he deserves visitation and…custody, why are you helping me?”
Colin looked me straight in the eyes. “I don’t think he deserves anything. I don’t give a fuck about him. I’m doing this because you want it, and I’m going to get it for you.” Then he turned and walked out of the bathroom.
My heart beat against my chest, hard and fierce.
It was a rather dark shade of gray, his declaration, but I didn’t think I’d ever heard anything more romantic than Colin telling me he’d spend his money, break laws, do anything he had to, to give me what I wanted. He was the man I’d been looking for without even trying. The man I hadn’t believed existed, one who’d fight for me. One who’d win.
Chapter Thirteen
My best friend in fifth grade was my neighbor two doors down, Leslie Pritchard. We didn’t like each other all that much, but absentee parenting made for strange bedfellows.
Leslie was lonely on nights her mom worked, and so she got a kitten. Leslie and I would sit around in the evenings playing with him, and as if the kitten were our campfire, he would jump in the air and flick his frizzy orange tail.
She’d toss a string, and he would leap with abandon only to come crashing down to the thin carpet in a tumble of tiny limbs. Bug—that was his name—didn’t know that cats should always land on their feet, and he remained staunchly flippant throughout his adolescent years up until he got run over by my dad’s truck. That day marked the end of my friendship with Leslie Pritchard.
The cats around my old apartment were nothing like Bug. They scattered as I climbed the steps, Bailey in one hand, a double-layer cake in the other. All I needed was a handless trombone and I could star in a Dr. Seuss book.
I slid Bailey down my leg so I could knock.
My gaze traced the lines of peeling paint on the door, maroon with white underneath and a trace of blue between them. Like the rings in a tree, marking the time. It had been two days since I’d fled Colin’s house, making empty promises about calling him and soon. I knew what I had to do, but it could be hard to leave home, even if home was a shitty apartment in the scary side of town.
Shelly opened the door.
“Hey, ladies.” Her voice was hoarse, and her smile didn’t quite reach her bloodshot eyes.
Shit, shit, shit. Maybe it was just the tiredness resulting from staying up late. But this was Tuesday, and she usually didn’t have a client on Monday. In fact, I left her alone most of the time on Mondays to let her sleep it off. Besides, lack of sleep wasn’t enough to affect her like this. Shelly was like a prey animal. Her problems never manifested in her appearance. If she looked like this, then things had truly gone to shit.
“Shelly?”
Her eyes slid away. She opened her mouth, to answer maybe, but then clapped a hand over it. Leaving the door open for us, she stumbled back through the hallway. The thud of the bathroom door punctuated her departure.
I found Shelly curled up on her bed on top of the covers. Bailey tried to go to her, but I distracted her with a chunk of cake that would be hell to clean up later.
I returned to the bedside. “Jesus, Shelly. Which one?”