CAMERON

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Wayne asked.

What the hell was he doing here?

In person, he wasn’t as big as he’d appeared in his photos. The guy worked out, sure, but he wasn’t as bulky as I’d thought he’d be.

Still, I wasn’t about to start a fight. Not when I didn’t know where that gun had gone.

I raised my chin, meeting his gaze. “I had the key. Giselle said I could stay here while she was—”

“But you moved up north. Your visiting rights no longer apply.” He slammed the cupboard door shut, his face an ugly sneer.

“Relax. I needed something for Piper.” My voice was cool, in control. He may have been smaller than me, but his eyes were wired, crazed, and I had no idea what he was on or what he was capable of.

“What’d she need?”

“A … toy.” I gestured to the linen cupboard. “Couldn’t find it, though, so I’m gonna head.”

I started down the hall, walking toward him. He rolled his shoulders back, moving into my path.

“All the way to Sydney for a fucking toy?” He raised his chin, staring daggers at me. “You’re even more of a fucking pussy than G said you were.”

“Guess I am.” I challenged him with my eyes, my chin raised, daring him to try something. Show no weakness.

For a moment, we looked at each other, and I felt him sizing me up, trying to work out if I was worth it. I glared into his dark eyes, rimmed with red and crazy. He seemed to tremor, as if his whole body was so full of chemicals that he couldn’t contain his own energy.

“Okay,” he mumbled. His shoulders slumped, and he stormed down the hall toward the bathroom, not looking back. Seconds later, the sound of him pissing reached my ears, and I breathed out. Thank hell for that. But why was he even here? Had he moved in when I’d moved out?

Maybe he was paying the rent on Giselle’s place. I guessed they wouldn’t offer financial support when you were in prison.

As I stepped outside, the chill of twilight raced over my arms. An unseasonably cold front was moving in. Hope Mack thought to give Piper her extra blanket. I hopped in the car, and as I drove away from that filthy house, hopefully for the very last time, I saw Wayne standing in the doorway, his phone to his ear, a lost expression on his face. Arsehole. I would fight for custody of my little girl.

There was no way in hell I’d let him near her.

* * *

After driving for an hour, my body was stiff. The heating in Giselle’s car didn’t work, and I almost wished I’d taken the Mustang. Who knew what she’d do to it when she found out?

Shit. I should have checked on my car. If Wayne had damaged it, I’d damage him. What if he’d dismantled it? Sold it off as parts?

Maybe I could convince Mack to catch a train down and pick it up tomorrow, get it well and truly out of the way of Hurricane Giselle before she was released. I’d need to sell it, get something bigger that would fit Piper’s car seat with ease.

What sort of car would I get? I stared at the other vehicles passing me—Range Rovers, vans, and—Jeeps. Yes, I’d get a Jeep. Something that looked big and tough and unbreakable. That was what I wanted to carry my daughter around in.

After today’s finds, things had changed. I didn’t want part-time custody of her. If Giselle could lie so blatantly about her baby’s paternity, it made it clear I couldn’t trust her. What was to stop her from taking my little girl out of the country on one of her ‘mummy days’?

No. I wanted full custody.

I had work, sure, but I’d figure something out. Maybe I could cut back to part-time.

Maybe Everly would …

I stopped the thought at the hilt. No. I wanted her to be a part of Piper’s life on her own terms, not as a glorified babysitter I called in when I needed it.

Still, I couldn’t help but imagine just how sweet that life would be. We could move farther north, get another beach-side place big enough for the three of us. On the weekends, Everly, Piper and I would go to the beach, collecting seashells and splashing in the waves. I’d throw Piper in the air, hearing that amazing laugh, and Everly would gasp with that slightly concerned look in her eyes, the one that said I trust you but damn, I worry when you do that. At night, the three of us would eat dinner around a table, talking about our days. Everly would kiss Piper on the forehead before the little girl went to sleep and I’d gently lay her down in bed.

A sign flashed up ahead, last service station before the freeway. I glanced at the petrol gauge. Enough to get home, but it wouldn’t hurt to fill up. And maybe I could use their phone to call Mack, let him know I was on my way.

I stopped and filled her up, then walked inside, grabbing a packet of jerky and a water, then making myself a coffee at the instant station. It smelt like shit, but I needed something. It had been hours since I’d eaten or drunk.

“Number four, thanks, mate. And I was wondering, can I use your phone?” I asked the man standing at the counter.

“We have a pay phone to the left of the building.” The disinterested attendant jerked a thumb in front of him, in case I had any difficulties working out left from right.

“Thanks.” I handed over my card to pay, collected it, then walked outside.

As I stood staring at the phone, I racked my brain. What the heck was Mack’s number again? We’d been friends for so long, but it was programmed into my phone. I rarely had to dial it.

The black of night had sunk over the petrol station. I rubbed my arms, warding off the chill. What is Everly’s number? I should have called her, too. She’d be headed over to my place right about now.

Blinking, I focused and gave a stab at the little silver pad, entering numbers I hoped like hell were right.

Ring, ring.

Ring, ring.

Ring, ri—

“Hello?” a female voice asked.

I frowned. “Uh, hi. Is this Mack’s phone?”

“Ugh. No.” The line clicked dead.

Guessed that answered that question.

A phone book was stashed inside a small section of the box, bolted in place with a key chain. I flipped through, looking for Mack’s parents’ details on the off-chance they had the place publicly listed.

Nope.

Damn it.

I walked back to the car and turned the engine, ready to head up the freeway. Just forty-five minutes to go. Forty-five minutes until I could see Everly. Forty-five minutes until I could kiss her soft lips, apologise for going against her wishes, and celebrate our success.

There was just forty-five minutes until I could kiss Piper’s forehead as she slept, relishing in the knowledge that yes, she’s mine, she’s mine, she’s mine.