Chapter 20

My Disney princess name is Taco Belle.

-Text from Coke to Cora

Cora

I expected things to be awkward afterward. What I didn’t expect was to walk out in Coke’s t-shirt, still feeling him between my legs, to find his ex-wife sitting on the couch as if she owned the place.

Coke followed closely behind me, coming to a halt almost directly at my side.

“What…”

The moment he saw what I was looking at, he moved so that his body was directly in front of me.

“Do you know what kind of deplorable conditions I’ve been subjected to the last few days?” Beatrice asked softly.

I stiffened.

“Why are you in my house, Beatrice?” Coke asked angrily. “I didn’t invite you here. It’s customary to at least call and let whomever you’re visiting know that you’re coming.”

Beatrice sneered. “Would you have let me come if I’d called?”

Hell no. I didn’t even need to hear Coke’s answer aloud to know that’s what he’d have said.

Honestly? One time after staying up with Coke to watch him work on his project truck, he’d told me that Beatrice had never been to this house. That he was glad that she hadn’t because the structure itself was untainted from memories of Beatrice.

I was fairly sure we’d have to get rid of that couch now that I could visualize her sitting in it.

Possibly even move out entirely.

He could just move into my place. We could make it work.

“I can tell by your non-answer that you wouldn’t have allowed me to come,” she sneered. “Hence showing up without calling first.”

“Is it okay to throat punch a woman? Asking for a friend,” I asked Coke.

Coke snorted, and Beatrice hissed in annoyance.

She stood up and went to the kitchen, Coke and I following her movements with wary eyes.

She reached for the paper plates that Coke used instead of dishes and picked one up.

“I hated that you wanted to use these,” she said, tearing the plate in half.

Coke growled under his breath.

“I also hated that you always bent to my father’s wishes. What kind of man does exactly what another man wants? What kind of man does that make you? A pussy, that’s what.” Beatrice tore another plate in half. “I hate you. I hate the way you’re so subservient. I hate the way you never stood up for me.”

She ripped up another plate and then turned to survey me with a look of disgust on her face.

“And you, with your fresh baby face and cute little body,” she sneered, ripping up another plate. “You think you can replace me? I can have him back in a heartbeat.”

That’s when Coke chose to laugh.

She ignored him.

“He was mine. I had him first. I gave him his first child. Now he can’t give you a child because he got fixed.”

That’s when Coke lost it.

He walked forward and ripped those paper plates out of Beatrice’s hands, then pointed toward the door. “Get. Out.”

“No,” she snarled. “This is still half my house. Did you know that, dear?”

That last part was aimed at me.

“No, I didn’t,” I said. “But, possession is nine-tenths of the law. Looks to me like Coke is the one living here, not you.”

“We bought this place because Coke just ‘had to have it,’” she sneered. “Well, let me tell you something, dear. I made sure that this house was put in my name. That was the deal for him getting this place. He bought it, but it went in my name. That way, if he did anything crazy like divorce me, he couldn’t have his precious cabin that I wasn’t allowed to visit.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Unfortunately for you, Beatrice, things that you acquire when you are married, it doesn’t matter whose name it’s in.” He paused. “Like we’ve already been over. This cabin and land are not yours. You got the five-bedroom monstrosity that you had to have in town. I got this place. That was what the mediation was about, remember?”

Coke sounded like he was speaking to a small child who was throwing a tantrum.

“You got me fired from my job,” she snarled, reaching for the bowl of fruit on the counter.

One second it was sitting pretty, and the next it was on the ground in pieces, apples and oranges flying everywhere.

An avocado fell to the ground and burst apart, making me wince.

That one would’ve been perfect today.

Dammit! Avocados are so damn expensive, and it takes days for them to be ripe enough to eat! This damn woman had just ruined it!

Whore.

Why was I being irrational about an avocado, you ask?

Because I didn’t know what in the hell to say or do. I did not, under any circumstances, want to be near that woman.

I was uncomfortable, underdressed, and had stuff on my thighs that I’d rather the entire world not know about.

“You have thirty-seconds to get out of here before I call Tyler Cree and have you picked up. You’re on bail, but one of the stipulations for it is definitely not getting arrested for trespassing. They pick you up again, it’ll be harder to get bail a second time because a judge isn’t going to look at you and see a good person. They’re gonna look at you and see the bitch you are,” Coke pointed out.

Beatrice hissed and reached for the roll of paper towels, knocking those off, too.

I turned to leave, knowing that I couldn’t handle this anymore.

My anxiety was through the roof.

That’s when it got incredibly awkward.

Frankie walked into the front door with a look of curiosity on her face.

She must’ve heard the yelling from outside.

Then again, I wasn’t quite sure why she was here and not at her dorm room.

Not that she couldn’t be here seeing as this was her father’s house, but it was the middle of the week.

Shit, shit, shit!

I slipped from the room, forgoing my bag that was still in the living room, and decided that I’d just put my clothes from last night on.

It was bad enough to be standing there in front of the man’s ex-wife with all the stuff Coke had just done to me written not only all over my face but also body fluids – his and mine - all over my body.

But all of that with his daughter also in the room?

Yeah, I had to change.

Now.

I came out of the room twenty minutes later to find Coke staring at Frankie with an angry look.

I was fully dressed and heading for my bag before I’d even made the conscious decision to leave.

I had to get out of here.

There was no way in hell I could stand to be here anymore. She might come back.

This was too awkward and uncomfortable for me. I had to leave—I had to.

I needed some time to contemplate the fact that today I’d had the most perfect experience of my life.

“You’re not going home. Not because of that nut bag.” He snatched my bag and threw it across the room, then turned his eyes on Frankie. “And neither are you. Might want to coordinate with your teachers.”

Frankie waved her hand in the air. “I’ll be fine. It’s spring break anyway.” She looked over at me. “Anyway, on to more interesting news… you and my dad, huh?”

I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “I…”

I had no clue what to say.

She giggled. “Don’t worry. I like it. I’m glad he found someone who’s not my mom, to be honest.”

Coke snorted. “Keep these doors locked. I’m going to make sure that she’s actually gone.”

Neither one of us argued.

Instead, after he’d left with his keys, we both turned to go to the kitchen to survey the damage.

“Shit. She ripped up all the paper plates. What are we going to eat on now?” Frankie asked.

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. I laughed until tears were leaking out of the corner of my eyes.

“Well,” I said. “Your mom didn’t touch the actual plates. You could consider washing the dishes after you’re done with them.”

Frankie grinned. “Oh.”

At that comment, I started laughing even harder.

“It never occurred to you, did it?” I questioned.

She shook her head. “Dad and me? We don’t function really well. He’s used to having everything so structured. And me? Well, my mother decided everything for me. What I would eat, what I would wear. Then dad came home hurt. He spun his wheels. He didn’t have anything to do. He felt like he’d lost a piece of who he was…then my mother had to go and make an already bad situation worse.”

“Your mother.” I laughed humorlessly. “I don’t even know what to say about that woman, to be honest.”

Frankie laughed. “Welcome to my life.”

I had to be honest here.

“I’m not sure I can handle your life,” I admitted. “Your mother…she’s a real piece of work. She was the person who facilitated my kidnapping. We’re not sure if she was actually after you or not. Apparently, picking your daughter up whether she wants to be picked up or not, is legal as long as that child is under the age of eighteen. Unfortunately for her, she got me instead of you, and now she’s facing jail time. So, she’s taking that out on your father—and by default, me.” I paused. “I know that your dad wants me to stay, but I need to go. I need to spend some time away. I need to call into a team meeting, and I just need a little time.”

Frankie seemed to understand that.

“Then go. I’ll cover for you.”

I took her up on her offer. Leaving my bag behind, because it would slow me down as I made a mad dash to my house, I bolted out the back door.

From somewhere in the front yard I could hear Coke talking to someone—likely Tyler—and felt a pang of regret that I was defying his orders. I also felt somewhat bad that I couldn’t hang with the big dogs in the crazy department—but I had enough crazy of my own. I didn’t need anybody else’s crazy to deal with, too…right?

***

Four hours later, I was surprised by the knock at my door.

Not by the actual knock itself, but the fact that it’d taken him four hours to actually come over and find out what had caused me to run.

“Cora!” Coke called.

I was standing on the other side of the door, staring at it like it was about to fall in on itself due to the force of his knocking.

“Cora, please.”

I still didn’t answer the door, despite his pleading.

“Please, Cora. I know that it was bad. I just want…I want to talk to you.”

I looked away from the door.

During the four hours that I’d had to think about everything that had happened, I realized a few things.

One, I was in over my head, and I didn’t know what to do.

Two, I could very well fall head over heels in love with Coke, and he was at the stage in life where things that mattered to me, didn’t matter to him. Such as kids. He had started his family when he was young and didn’t want anymore. I had always wanted three, maybe four kids. He had a seventeen-year-old who was already out of the house, and he’d had a vasectomy. That meant that he didn’t want any more kids.

Finally, if those first two things weren’t enough, then there was the matter of his ex-wife. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be subjected to her, even loosely through Coke and Frankie, for the rest of my life.

I wasn’t sure that I could handle her.

Coke still had a lot to do with her and her family.

He may not be married to her anymore, but he still had plenty of dealings with Beatrice’s father, if not Beatrice herself.

And I didn’t think that Beatrice would be serving much time for kidnapping me. Nobody had been hurt in the process, and she had a shark of a lawyer who my father had warned me would pull no punches.

Did I want her lawyer to pull things out of his hat that could potentially hurt me? I’d be subjected to his verbal assault…and I didn’t want to be skewered alive in front of anybody, let alone an entire courtroom of people. I also knew that, despite Coke and my father’s assurances, they couldn’t protect me from this.

My final thought was that I was going to drop the charges against Beatrice.

I had a lot more to lose here than she did, but I knew that this couldn’t be dropped since she’d committed a felony. I was having some serious doubts about testifying against her.

I had my stepping stone to my dream job. My employer had a morals clause included in my contract since this was a children’s production company. I’m not sure what would be considered immoral on my part, but I didn’t really want to push it.

And what I had going on was, quite possibly, a scandal.

So no, I would not be opening the door.

I would stay in my house and keep my ass right where it was.

I would not, under any circumstances, go to his house.

I. Would. Not.