“Hey. I thought I’d take Hunter home early and get him ready for tomorrow.”
He was in the QB position on the blue team. I didn’t want to pull him from the team. He was having a great day.
“Look at him out there.” I pointed to him and Julie followed the direction of my finger.
She shook her head. “You have no idea what a different child he is now.”
“That’s football.”
She leaned into me. “Can’t you take some of the credit? I get the sports thing. Men can only communicate through sports—whatever that archaic thing is, but you reached him. It doesn’t matter how. It only matters that you did.”
“That kid has been hurt.” I saw it every time I looked at him.
“That’s his past,” she whispered. “This is going to be his future.”
“I sure as hell hope so.”
I hadn’t told her about the pit in my stomach every time I thought about the hearing. The last time I stood in front of a judge, it had been to defend myself for getting in a bar brawl. I still reeked of beer and my knuckles had been cut and bloody.
Tomorrow was about as far from that as possible.
Tomorrow, everything was going to change.
I didn’t know what the fuck I expected. A big courtroom with a row of juror seats and a crowd of people in the galley. But family court wasn’t anything like that.
We were ushered into a room. Julie was on one side of me. Savannah sat outside the door with Hunter. My attorney told us the judge would want to speak to the kid separately.
I also realized as I walked into the room I wasn’t only facing a judge, I was facing the man who raised the woman I had claimed as my own. Fuck.
She squeezed my arm. “It’s going to be fine. My father is fair.”
I nodded, puffing out my chest.
The bailiff announced for us to rise and Judge Bristow walked into the small room.
He smiled at Julie and we sat at one end of the table.
“All right, so what do we have here today?” He pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and brought them to the tip of his nose.
My attorney had advised me not to utter a word until he gave me the signal.
“Your honor. We would like the court to award temporary guardianship of Hunter Evans to Kane Hawkins while he applies for full custody.”
“I see.” He read the file in front of him. “Mr. Hawkins, is that your intent?”
I cleared my throat. “Yes, sir, that is correct.”
“And you.” He pulled the glasses all the way to the point on his angular nose, addressing Julie. “You think Mr. Hawkins should have guardianship of Hunter?”
“Daddy—I-I, mean yes, your honor. I do. He has been able to provide a stable environment for him and nurtured his love of football.”
“I see.”
I looked at Julie to see if I could read her expression. Her father was a thin, wiry man. Not someone I’d meet on the street and call intimidating, but in here, he was one scary hell of a man.
He looked up from the paperwork. “I admire what you are doing with this, young man. I truly do. After reading your file, I think I can even understand why you are doing it, but I need to hear it from you. I need to hear you tell me that this is not going to be one of those things that sounds like a good idea, but then becomes too hard so you quit. Because I can tell you now that kid is going to be a hard shell to break. It’s not all going to be easy. Julie has been working with him for over a year, and half the time he still won’t even speak to her. He needs someone to go the extra distance with him, not bail halfway through.”
Judge Bristow waited for my response.