Better (Stark Ink Book 2) (14 page)

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Dalton demanded.

Grant’s features sharpened and he glared at Dalton. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“The hell it doesn’t. Get the hell away from my front door.”

Grant turned away, dismissing Dalton out of hand. “I’m here to see Zoey, not grunt at
you
, Neanderthal.”

Dalton reached the steps, snatching Grant’s arm and spinning him. One hard yank and the smaller man was stumbling down the steps toward the frozen grass. Dalton’s foot slipped, but he didn’t go down.

“Get your hands off me!”

“Leave.”

“I want-”

Dalton spread his arms wide. “Do I look like I give a fuck what you want, Grant?”

The man’s jaw tightened and he rattled a sheaf of papers in his hand. “She needs to sign these.”

Dalton looked at the stack. He couldn’t read any of the text from here, but he could guess what they were. And there was little doubt that signing them meant giving the little weasel more than he deserved. “That’s not happening,” Dalton declared.

“I didn’t ask you,” Grant sneered.

The front door opened and Zoey stepped out, without a coat, Dalton noticed. His hands twitched again. “Go back inside,” he told her.

Instead of listening, Zoey came down the front steps. “You need to leave, Patrick.”

“Not until you sign these.”

Zoey held out her hand. “Just give them to me and go.”

The tiny man grinned triumphantly. He moved forward and tried to muscle past Dalton, but Dalton was done being nice and there was no way Zoey was signing those papers.

As Grant’s shoulder brushed him, Dalton grabbed his arm again and charged toward the street, dragging Grant with him.

Zoey cried out. “Oh, my God! Dalton! Don’t!”

Sheets of crisp, white paper fanned out, scattering everywhere.

With both hands now available, Grant tried to wrestle himself free. “Let go of me!”

Dalton made it to the curb and slammed him against the Mercedes, keeping his gaze on the man in front of him. “Zoey, stay right where you are,” he barked.

Grant clawed at Dalton’s arms. “I’ll call the cops!” he screeched.

Dalton twisted the shirt in his fist. “Oh, you do that. The paperwork will take all day— one report for every time you hit her. We’ll probably get around to talking about this little spat in a few hours but, by that time, we’ll both be wearing cuffs.” Dalton leaned in closer. The smell of cologne stung his nose, but he didn’t flinch. “Imagine you and me in a teeny, tiny little jail cell.
Together.
”

Grant swallowed hard.

Dalton grinned. “How
will
we pass the time?”

“I have a right to talk to her!”

Dalton shook his head. “You have a right to breathe. I’m giving you that. For now.”

“She’s still my wife. We’re still married.”

“And you miss her so much you came all the way here with divorce papers.” Dalton looked around at the dozens of sheets scattered on the lawn. “Jesus, Grant, you put more time and effort into splitting up than you ever did into staying together.”

Grant glared at him. “Well, it wasn’t much of a marriage. Not with you always there, hovering around us like a ghost.”

Dalton snorted. “Please. I wasn’t anywhere near you or your marriage. You’re pathetic. Why don’t you stop blaming everyone else in your life for your problems? Man up and take responsibility, Grant. You put your hands on her… and your feet.”

The man’s eyes widened as Dalton’s narrowed. He pressed the shorter man harder against the frame of the car. “Yeah, I know about that,” Dalton told him. “I know everything. You had your chance and you fucked it up. If you think you’re getting anything out of it, well that just shows how fucking stupid you really are. You should be grateful that I’ll let you
walk
away from this at all.”

Grant’s perfectly combed hair fell across his eyes. His hands were still pawing at Dalton’s arms so he shook his head to clear his vision. “You don’t have any proof! And she went back to her ex like a bitch in heat. Her word isn’t worth shit!”

Dalton held Grant with one hand and dug his phone out of his pocket with the other. With his thumb he brought up the photo he’d taken. Zoey had been asleep but the black eye was plain as day.

Dalton showed it to him. “You sure about that?”

Grant stiffened.

“Now you need to think long and hard about what you want to do here,” said Dalton. “Because she’s not signing anything, not a
damn
thing. There’s no easy money here, Grant. Just how hard are you willing to fight for a family you never wanted in the first place?”

Suddenly, eerily, Grant’s mouth slid into a grin.

Dalton suppressed the urge to shudder.

Perfect white teeth flashed in the sunlight.

Dalton wanted to punch them all out.

Grant cocked his head to the side. “Who says I don’t want the kid?”

Dalton stared at him.

“On the contrary, Stark. That kid’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

White hot fury sparked in the pit of Dalton’s stomach.

Grant’s eyes shone. “It’s Zoey that needs to do some thinking. Adultery, willful abandonment. It won’t look good for her. Especially at the custody hearing.”

Dalton could barely breathe. It felt like all the air had suddenly evaporated around him.

“I don’t know how smart you are,” Grant sneered. He glanced meaningfully at the truck. “But I can see that you get it. Now you sit her ass down and explain it to her. You tell my wife, who’s carrying my kid that—”

Dalton grabbed him by the throat again. "
My
kid. My
son
. They're
both
mine. And if you come near them again, I will e
nd. Your. Life
."

“Dalton!” Zoey stepped off the curb and flung herself at the two men. She grabbed Dalton’s arm and tugged, but wasn’t strong enough to pull his hand away from Grant’s throat.

Dalton wasn’t squeezing, tempted as he was. One hard flex and the man was finished. The only problem was that Dalton would be finished as well and Zoey and the baby would be left alone.

“Dalton, please.” His gaze flitted to her. Her eyes were wet with tears as she continued to pull on his arm. He cursed under his breath. He always hated to see her cry. He let go of Grant and stepped back onto the grass.

Zoey followed and Dalton wrapped one arm around her, drawing her close.

Grant stood up and straightened his shirt. He glared at them. “Look, I don’t care if you want to fuck some dumb plumber, Zoey. I really don’t, but you
will
sign those papers. Because if I don’t get what I want, you’ll never get what
you
want.”

Grant had to back up and drive around the truck, which was blocking half the street.

Dalton watched until the taillights of the Mercedes disappeared from view. Beside him, Zoey shuddered, still crying. Dalton dragged his gaze away from the now empty street to look down at her. As he turned toward her, his heavy boot crunched one of sheets of paper that were now scattered on the lawn. He frowned down at it.

“Everything’s fine,” he said with confidence he didn’t really feel. He’d been a fool to think that it would be so easy to be rid of the bastard. Dalton had underestimated the depths of the man’s selfishness, but now more than ever it was clear that Zoey and the baby had get away from him.

Dalton gave Zoey one last reassuring squeeze and then set about to pick up the trash blowing around on his lawn.

It had been days with no word from Grant, but that didn’t stop Dalton from checking his surroundings, looking twice at any dark gray Mercedes just in case it had a few new dents in it. He was only half listening to Adam as they drove. There was just too much on Dalton’s mind. Grant wanted a payoff, but he wasn’t getting one. Over Dalton’s dead body. Or Grant’s.

“He wants a big one,” said Adam.

Dalton grunted. “I know.” He paused. “Wait, what?”

“I said Pop wants a big tree this year.”

Dalton shook himself back into the moment. “We’ve had a big tree every year. I thought it was Mom’s idea.”

Adam nodded. “It was, but you know…”

Dalton understood. He wasn’t looking forward to their first Christmas without her. The gifts would be wrapped wrong and, even if Dalton and Adam got the biggest tree available in the lot, it wouldn’t look as nice once they’d decorated it. There would be a thousand little ways to be reminded she was gone. But Zoey was here and the baby would with them soon enough. That alone made it seem bearable.

Tired of wallowing, Dalton looked at Adam. “You sure you can handle a big tree? You’ll get sap all over your artsy hands, maybe in your hair, too, Rapunzel.”

Adam’s eyes narrowed. “Keep talking, Baldy, and you’ll be the angel on top.”

Dalton snorted.

“Because it’ll be up your—”

“Yeah, I got it.”

It was nice to cut loose with his older brother. In fact, Dalton couldn’t remember the last time. He hated to end it so soon, but he’d finally gotten Adam alone. Dalton cleared his throat. “Hey, we need to talk.”

Adam blew out a harsh breath. The smile from moments ago had already vanished. “Look, I know I was hard on Zoey. I’m sorry for that, but I can’t let her think it’s just sunshine and roses with you, D.” Adam looked at him from across the cab. “I can’t lose you, too.”

Dalton drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Well, I appreciate the apology, but I’m not going anywhere. Anyways, that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Adam’s brows knitted together. “What then?”

Dalton shifted in his seat. “I need money. I mean, I don’t need any from you,” he added quickly. “I just need to keep what I’m bringing in, instead of paying you back. Just for a while. Zoey’s going to need a lawyer. The baby will be here soon. I’ll help out where I can with Pop’s program, but after that I’ll be stretched pretty thin.”

Dalton held his breath. It was embarrassing to say the least, but he’d almost grown used to humility ranking up there with serenity. As much as it sucked, Dalton wasn’t sure you could have one without the other. Adam came through though, as he always did.

“Don’t sweat it, D.”

Dalton sighed in relief. “You sure?”

Adam nodded. “Yeah. Money was tight before, so I can’t imagine what it’s like now. Or what it’ll be like after the baby comes. Things are changing. I know it, even if it makes me nervous.”

Dalton shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. They’re mine.”

“I get it. And I’ll ease off Zoey.”

“Thanks.”

They pulled into the tree lot and Dalton killed the truck’s engine. He grabbed the rope they’d brought along and reached for the door handle, freezing before he could pull it. Across the lot, he spied a face he hadn’t thought he’d see again anytime soon. If ever. Dalton sat perfectly still, a stark contrast between the roil of emotions churning in his gut.

“D?”

Dalton tried to remember how to breathe.

“Dalton?”

Dalton tore his gaze away and glanced at Adam. His brother’s forehead was creased with worry lines. Adam looked across the lot. “Who is that?”

Dalton didn’t answer right away, still mulling it over.

“Is… is that Grant?”

Slowly, Dalton shook his head. “No. It’s not Grant,” he said quietly. “Just give me a minute, okay?” Dalton didn’t wait for a response; he pulled the door release and stepped out. “I’ll come find you.”

Adam nodded as Dalton shut the door. He started off across the lot, moving through the trees. He felt a bit like a hunter stalking his prey, or that’s what he would’ve felt like a year ago when anger weighed so heavily on him. Dalton still wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing now. It felt like every synapse in his head was going haywire. He’d imagined this scenario one hundred times. There was never a crowd. There were never kids around. It was always just the two of them.

Dalton was different now. He wasn’t the same angry asshole he’d been a year ago. His hands still balled into fists, but that was more nerves than anything else. As he neared, he considered turning around and leaving, heading back to the truck. He surprised himself though, by calling out, “Hey.”

Spencer turned and looked shocked himself.

An awkward moment hung between them. Now that they were face-to-face, Dalton found himself at a loss for words. Getting piss drunk night after night alone in his apartment, it had been easy to put the blame all on this man standing in front of him. This immature, happy-go-lucky village idiot who’d maybe had one beer too many during his lunch break and then ruined Dalton’s entire life as a result. Looking at him now, red-nosed and sheepish, Dalton could scarcely believe he’d spent so much time hating the man.

It had been an accident, beer or not, and though Dalton himself had not popped the top on a cold one on that particular day, he’d done so before, even on his own lunch breaks, even with Spence. It could have easily happened the other way. Spence could’ve been the one watching his own livelihood gush out of a gaping wound. Before this moment, Dalton had never considered forgiving him. For all Dalton’s making amends and seeking forgiveness for himself from the people he’d hurt, Dalton had never once thought to extend the same to this man.

It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay. But it
was
in the past and there was no changing it. Plus, Spence may have torn up Dalton’s hand, but he hadn’t put beer after beer in it afterward. That was all Dalton’s doing,
his
inability to cope with his new reality. Spence wasn’t evil or even unfeeling. He was just a guy who’d made a terrible mistake. Dalton was just the guy who’d suffered the consequences. Although standing here now it appeared that Spence might be hurting a bit, too. He stared at Dalton, like he was the ghost of Christmas Past.

Dalton cleared his throat. “Merry Christmas,” he said, for lack of anything better.

Spence hesitated, then smiled a little. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, man. Merry Christmas!”

“Dalton?”

Dalton turned to see Adam approaching from the side. He looked at Spence, then back again. “I found a tree,” he said.

Dalton nodded. He and Adam watched the younger man shuffle away. Adam looked at Dalton pointedly. “Is that someone from your list? Someone you had to apologize to? Did he forgive you?”

Dalton shook his head. “No. He didn’t forgive me. I guess I forgave him.”

Adam was quiet a moment, assessing Dalton. “You okay?” he asked finally.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” Dalton clapped Adam on the shoulder. “Let’s go put those artsy hands to some real work.”