“No!” Tank roars, so loudly I jump. My right hand nearly dumps over my cup of coffee, but I catch it just in time.
“Mr. Barrigan, you have to understand…” I begin. But he’s half out of his chair before I get any further.
“She ain’t gonna be taken from me,” he hisses, jabbing a hard finger at me. His eyes flash like flint against steel. “We’re not putting her with anyone else. We’re not fucking doing that! No matter what. Not. An. Option.”
He runs a rough hand through his hair — the hand with the bracelet — and I see that it’s shaking. “She has a father,” he mutters, half to himself. “She lives with me.”
I glance over at Cady in alarm. Her face is pale, but her jaw is set in a similar determination to Tank’s. She laces her gently on his forearm, guiding him to sit back down.
“Ms. Wells…” she begins quietly.
“Call me December, please,” I insist. “Or Ember. My friends call me Ember.”
I don’t normally give my nickname to clients, but I do now, hoping to calm the electricity in the room.
Cady sighs. “Ember. You have to understand, Wren has been through a lot. We can go into that, if you need us to, so you’ll understand.” Her voice quavers. “But having her spend time in foster care would be truly traumatic for her. Please believe me when I tell you it would be cruel and terrible for her to be taken away from Tank. She needs the stability of her father.”
“And Cady,” Tank rasps. “She’s more of a goddamn mother to her than the woman who birthed her ever will be. We ain’t lettin’ her be taken away from us, Ms. Wells. No matter what. That’s not negotiable.”
The fierce determination on both of their faces is like looking at two halves of the same coin. It’s clear to me that these two will do anything to keep that little girl safe and with them. They are not going to let go of Tank’s daughter, even for a moment, no matter what.
Even, maybe, if it means breaking the law.
Taking a deep breath, I look each of them in the eye — first Tank, then Cady.
“This may be a little tricky, then,” I warn. “We’ll just need to go step by step, and hope we don’t hit a dead end.”
Tank seems to relax a bit, and next to him, Cady exhales in relief.
“We got a guy in the MC, who can help you with intel if you need it,” Tank rumbles. “His name’s Tweak. He’s the one who helped us track Jess down the last time, before she flew the coop.”
“Noted.” I pause. “Speaking of which, there is one more thing I want to discuss with you.”
“What’s that?” Cady asks.
“I want to mention that there may be a potential issue with the fact of Mr. Barrigan’s… lifestyle.” I raise a brow, glance at his leather jacket. “The courts might not look very favorably on his request for parental rights. Obviously, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But I’m just warning you about that, so we can all be prepared for it.”
“But if Tank’s paternity is established, though, through a test, and the mother agrees to terminate her rights, then that shouldn’t be a problem, should it?” Cady argues. “If we can prove that he’s the father?”
“I’ll be honest, it still might be an issue,” I admit. “I’ll need to know everything there is to know about Mr. Barrigan’s criminal record.” Instantly, I realize what I’ve said. “If there is a criminal record, I mean,” I add hastily, reddening.
Tank grunts, neither a confirmation or a denial. “I’ll tell you what you need to know.” He shifts in his seat. “And listen, call me Tank, would ya? I’m gettin’ sick of this Mr. Barrigan shit.”
His words are so blunt that I can’t help but laugh, oddly charmed.
“All right. Tank, then.” I find myself grinning. “So, if you’re ready to proceed, let’s get some financial details out of the way.”
I tell them my hourly rate, and give them a ballpark idea of what they can expect to pay for my services, which they seem to have no problem with. I ask Cady whether she wants to begin the process of serving her estranged husband divorce papers immediately, and she says yes. I tell them what that will likely cost, as well. I take a few further details from them, and explain I’ll be able to get started on both cases within the week.
But then, things get one step weirder.
“There’s one more thing,” Tank says, just as we’re wrapping up.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“We’d like to assign you an escort.”
“An… escort?” I repeat dumbly.
“A bodyguard,” he shrugs. “Protection. Just temporarily.”
“Tank…” Cady admonishes, shooting him a warning glance. “I really don’t think that’s necessary.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t understand.”
What in the hell?
Tank looks me up and down. “Cady’s husband — ex-husband — is a bad dude. This divorce thing ain’t something he’s agreed to, and we don’t know how he’s gonna react. I want to put a man from my club on you for a while. Just to make sure you’re safe.”
“I honestly think Tank is overreacting on this,” Cady interrupts, in a tone that tells me the two of them have had this out before. “I haven’t seen Kurt in a couple of years, and he hasn’t contacted me once, or tried to come after me. There’s no reason to believe he would do anything violent or dangerous.”
Tank crosses his thick, tatted forearms over his chest, a storm on his face. It’s clear from Cady’s worried expression that she’s afraid this will scare me off from taking them as clients.
“Look, I appreciate the intent,” I say. “But that won’t be necessary. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” I stand, to indicate this part of the conversation is closed. “I’ll be in touch in a few days with an update on what I’ve found out. At that point I’ll outline the next steps to be taken. In the meantime, don’t hesitate to call me if you have any other information you think I should know.”
“Thank you so much,” Cady enthuses. She clasps both of her hands around mine in a grateful shake. “I know this is going to be a long road, but we’re prepared for it. And it’s going to be such a relief when this is all behind us. I can’t wait until Wren is legally ours.”
“And you’re legally mine,” Tank murmurs, sliding his arm around her.
Cady giggles softly. “You know I’m yours regardless. You can’t get rid of me.”
They gaze at each other with such open tenderness, I feel like they’ve forgotten I’m here. Awkwardly, I clear my throat. Cady’s eyes flick from Tank to me.
“Sorry,” she says, embarrassed.
I laugh. “No problem at all. Honestly, it’s a nice change to see a happy couple in this office. Most of the cases I end up with are between two people who are at each other’s throats.”
“Are you married, Ember?” Cady asks.
Her eyes flick to my left hand, where an antique fire opal ring — a gift from my father — marks the place where my wedding set used to be. It’s my one private concession to the secret I’ve kept for far longer than I’ve wanted to.