He’s drunk. Or worse.
Dread washes over me, but I shove it away. My main goal is protecting Trace. Always.
A fist pounds on the front door, Rhodes’s voice vibrating the old house. “I know you’re in there!”
Trace glances at the door, then back at me.
“Why don’t you go up to Nana’s room and you can watch the bull riders on my phone.”
I hand him the device, hoping it will keep him busy and his attention off the train wreck outside.
“Okay.” He eyes me but bounds up the staircase.
When he’s out of sight, I call out, “Lock the door!”
I turn for the front of the house, waiting until I hear theclick.
Blowing out a breath, I reach for the handle and yank open the door. My only priority is to keep him from escalating. To keep him from making this worse for Trace. I could have called the police, but given the sheriff here is as crooked as they come, it’s never done any good.
“That’s enough,” I hiss, stepping out onto the porch. I close the door behind me. “What do you want? My lawyer has already contacted yours and I’ve agreed to the paternity test.”
“I’m not here about a fucking test,” he spits, his breath reeking of alcohol. “I’m here to take my family back.”
His eyes are wild, the gold flecks holding a dangerous glint.
“Rhodes, we talked about this,” I say calmly.
He ignores me, crowding my space. “I’m here to get what’s mine. To get what belongs to me.” He taps his chest. “Not to him.”
I frown. “Who?”
“That piece of shit you’re spreading your legs for!” He swipes a hand over his mouth, staggering on his feet. “Yeah, I’m talking about your golden boy.”
He’s certifiably insane. “You need to leave.”
He tries to step past me, but I block his path. “Did you hear me? Leave.”
He chuckles, dismissing me like the manipulator he is. “How do you think this will look to the public? I get results showing I’m his father and his mother is keeping him from me. Won’t paint you in a good light.”
I stand firm. “You want to talk to him? We go through the lawyers.”
He scoffs. “I don’t have time for this shit. Move.”
“No.”
He steps to me, his eyes flaring with rage. “Move or I’ll—”
“Or you’ll what?” I hiss. “Drug me?”
His face flickers. It’s only a second that surprise flashes. Brief, but enough for me to know the truth.
“Trace!” he bellows over my head.
I move instantly, shifting back to block the stairs to the door.
“I will call the law, Rhodes. This is your last warning.”
I regret giving Trace my phone in this moment. He’s angrier than usual. He’s restless. Fearless. I feel helpless.
