Finding Glory. Sara Arden

on her face with no reservations.

      For a second, she was surprised to see him, then there was a happiness in her eyes that startled him. He hadn’t expected that—genuine happiness at the sight of him. But it faded quickly into a scowl.

      “What do you want?”

      “Lunch.” Reed didn’t mean to sound so cavalier, but it was his only defense against her. What else could he say? I came here because I wanted to see you?

      He was conflicted about what that thought wrought in him. He didn’t want her to be working the same job, stuck in the same cycle, wasting away—all her potential squandered. But if she was chasing his bank account, what else would she be doing?

      Still, she didn’t seem unhappy.

      She was gentle with Amanda Jane, patient. That wasn’t the behavior of an addict. That hurt him, pierced his skin and burrowed into his bones. If she hadn’t fallen into the same trap that he and Crystal had, what was she doing still in Glory?

      “Maybe you should get it somewhere else.” Her mouth thinned.

      “Maybe I should,” he agreed easily. “I wanted to see you.”

      “Now you’ve seen me.” Her knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists. “Wasn’t this morning enough?”

      “That I have.” He nodded. Reed didn’t know what to say to her. He hadn’t planned on speaking to her, but he should’ve known his presence wouldn’t have gone unnoticed. “And I’m wondering why you’re still working here?”

      Her eyes narrowed and for a moment, he thought for sure she was going to do violence.

      “Why am I still working here? That’s really what you’re going to ask me after seven years? The last time I saw you was the night before my sister almost died and all you can think to say to me is why I’m still working at the Bullhorn?” Her voice was almost a growl. “I’m working here to support your daughter. What about you? What are you doing to take care of her?”

      He hadn’t expected this from her—hell, he didn’t know what he expected. Reed supposed that if he didn’t believe she’d gotten out of the cycle, why should she believe that he had? The balls on this woman: to sue him for child support and then imply she could somehow mandate the terms of his visitation.

      There was a part of him that raged at her for daring to speak of it, for digging underneath his skin and tearing at old scars and still prescient fears. That he’d never be anything more than a junkie kid from Whispering Woods.

      But he was. He was so much more than that now. He was a man in control of himself and his destiny. He could buy the Bullhorn and fire her, if he chose.

      “Don’t push me too hard, Gina. You’ve already shown you can’t take care of her on your own. That’s why you’re suing me for child support. I’ll go for full custody.” He kept his tone low and quiet so only Gina could hear him.

      “You’d take her away from me, from the only stability she’s ever known, because you’re afraid of the truth? You’re still just like Crys. Maybe you have some nice suits and you got your teeth fixed, but underneath all of that, you’re still who you’ve always been. The high more important than anything else,” she hissed back, her voice at the same low pitch to keep Amanda Jane from hearing them.

      “You don’t know anything about me.” For one horrible moment, he was afraid she was right.

      Gina paused and pursed her lips. “You’re right. I don’t. Which is exactly why I don’t want you anywhere near my niece.”

      He saw her hands curl into fists and then splay by her side.

      “You want my money.” He dared her to deny it.

      “I don’t know why I thought you’d be different. I guess those rose-colored glasses were just the remnants of my childhood.”

      “Really?” he snorted. “You thought that you could just throw me away when I wasn’t any use to you and now that I’ve made something of myself, it’s convenient to tell me that I might be a father?”

      “What I thought was that you might have given a damn. But you didn’t. So no, I don’t want anything from you but a check.” She braced her hands on the table. “That should make you happy. Then you don’t have to do anything but put your name on the dotted line or have your shark lawyer do it for you.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “Maybe you were too blazed out of your mind when Crys told you to remember. But she told you the night she OD’d and she even called your case manager when Amanda Jane was born.”

      Her words affected him like a physical blow. “Gina, the day I got served with this suit was the first time I’d heard anything about a child.”

      The fire in her eyes simmered to an ember and she studied him hard.

      “There’s a part of me that wants to believe you.” She looked away. “Part of me that actually does believe you.” Her voice dropped an octave; it was almost a whisper.

      He felt like the world’s biggest asshole. For all her fire, she was still sweet little Gina. And he’d come in here looking for a fight. A place to put all of his pain, his doubt, and a focus for his anger. Anywhere besides himself.

      “There’s a part of me that wants to believe you, too.” He inhaled deeply before making his confession. “And there’s this other part of me that thinks you’re like everyone else who wants to take everything I’ve done away from me.”

      Because he didn’t deserve it. He was poor white trash from the wrong side of the tracks and no amount of imported cologne could wipe off the stench, or erase the scars on his arms. He didn’t want to believe that, and for a long time, he’d convinced himself that he didn’t. Then he found out he was a father. He found out Gina didn’t want him. Crystal hadn’t wanted him. The people he’d thought were safe weren’t.

      He shouldn’t have confessed that to her, shouldn’t have given her anything she could use against him.

      Gina sank down in the chair next to him, her shoulders slumped. “I don’t want anything that’s yours. Just what’s hers. If you look at the numbers, I’m not asking for anything extravagant.”

      That was a glimpse of the person he’d still hoped she was. In truth, she really hadn’t asked for that much. She was most likely entitled to ten times that given his income. But he’d wondered if it was just because she didn’t know how much to ask for. Except with Amanda Jane’s little face looking over at him, he found that thought to be foreign and cruel. If she really was his daughter, she was entitled to his support.

      “No, you’re not.” He didn’t know what else to say.

      “Reed, I’m doing the best I can.”

      He wondered what her best was and sure as hell hoped it was better than what they had growing up. Reed was almost afraid to ask, but he had to know. “You’re not still living in Whispering Woods, are you?” He mentioned the trailer park community where they’d grown up.

      “No. I’ve got a little house out in the country. Highway 5. You remember the one with the hills that we used to take really fast?”

      “Hanging out someone’s sunroof? You remember that time you swallowed a moth?”

      She turned to look at him. “I thought I was going to die. It was the nastiest thing.”

      “It’s not like you could taste it.”

      “No, but I had nightmares about what it was doing in there.”

      He laughed. This...this was what he’d wanted from her—hoped for. Why couldn’t he have just spoken to her like this from the beginning? If he was really a better man than he’d once been, he wouldn’t need to be so defensive.

      Wouldn’t need