Max (Cold Fury Hockey 6)

Max's gaze burns into me and I can see him warring with wanting to stay there to have my back and wanting to protect the kids. Finally he nods, shoots a hard glare at Dwayne that clearly conveys he doesn't like him. He then reaches into his pocket and pulls Dwayne's wallet and keys out, handing them to him. Max turns to the kids and says, "Come on, little minions. Let's go order pizza."

They all herd around Max and he swings Annabelle up and over his shoulder. She shrieks with delight and for a moment I watch them all walk away before I turn back to Dwayne.

"Seriously, why now?" I ask him. "You couldn't even bother to come to Melody's funeral. Couldn't even be there for your kids when they were grieving."

"Did you ever think it was hard on me, Julianne?" he asks, and of course he calls me by my full name because he's never really been a friend of mine in all the years I've known him. He barely tolerated me when he and Melody first got together, and after he started his cheating and abandoning ways, I made no secret that I didn't like him.

"Not as hard as it was on me, Dwayne," I hiss at him. "I'm the one that held her hand when she took her last breath, you asshole, and you know what really burns me up...she fucking loved you until the end."

If I thought that might touch him in some way and make him feel guilty, I would have been sadly mistaken. He doesn't seem sorry or apologetic.

"Look," he says brusquely. "I didn't come here to fight."

"And we're back to the start," I say sarcastically. "Why are you here?"

"I'm thinking about taking the kids back," he says without looking me in the eye. "You know...take them off your hands."

"You cannot be fucking serious," I growl at him, some mama grizzly bear rage filling me up.

"I met someone," he says, still refusing to look me in the eye. "She wants to get married but she doesn't want that damn child support payment hanging over me. And she wants kids...so you know...I figured I'd take the kids back."

I swear, for a moment I think I might stroke out as my vision goes dim, and then a red pulse of light obscures his shameful face before me. I'm so angry, I'm seeing fucking red.

I advance toward him a step and poke him in the chest, "You do not just get to decide you want your kids after years of not being there for them, just because you fucking met a woman that wants kids and you don't want to pay child support. That's not how it works."

"They're my kids," he snarls at me, pushing his body against my finger and causing me to go back a step. "And if I want to take them, I'll take them."

"You better be prepared to deal with the law then," I warn him. "Because I have legal custody and you signed off on that, or have you forgotten, Dwayne? Those kids are mine in the eyes of the law and if you take them that's kidnapping."

"Then I'll fight you for them in court," he says darkly, and my insides turn to Jell-O at the thought.

Still, I tilt my chin up and tell him, "I'll fight you every step of the way. I'll spend every dime I have fighting it."

"They're my kids," he says angrily.

"Come on, Dwayne," I say softly, hoping to appeal to his common sense. "You've been out of their life far more than you've been in it. They're excited to see you when you first get here because you do something fun with them or bring them a toy, but then that wears off. They don't know you. And more importantly, you weren't there when their mother died...when they needed you the most."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, but just looks at the ground.

Finally, he looks up to me and says, "That's how it's gonna be?"

I sigh. "Look, if you want some visitation, we can work things out, but you'll have to catch up on the child support. You know the court requires that, and you'll have to pay it going forward. It's not cheap raising three kids, Dwayne, and I've been busting my ass to give them a good life."

If I expected that to shame him, I'd be wrong about that too, and instead his eyes shimmer with something I can't quite put my finger on. "I see you're fairly cozy with your man."

My body stiffens but I don't say a word.

"Max Fournier," Dwayne taunts, and it's clear to me he knows who Max is. "That guy's rolling in dough. I'm quite sure you're not suffering taking care of the kids."

"I support those kids on my own," I grit out. "Max doesn't give me any money."

"Maybe," he concedes and then nods at me before turning toward his car. He calls over his shoulder, "But I wonder if he would."

Well, fuck...what the hell does that mean?

I stand in Jules' bedroom with her and watch as she stomps back and forth across the carpet. Her hands are balled into fists and her cheeks are bright red with fury.

"That son of a bitch can't have them," she yells at me, her arms waving wildly to punctuate her resolve.

"Jules," I say in a lowered voice. "You need to calm down. The kids can hear you."

She looks chastised and takes three paces to get in my face. She whispers harshly, "He can't do it. That fucking asshole has no right. He can't just waltz back into their lives now that they're settled."

"Honey..." I try to placate.

She just hisses at me. "That fucker wants those kids so he doesn't have to pay child support again, and do you think he's going to spend the money on them that they deserve--hell, that they fucking need to survive--if he can't even be bothered to pay a fraction of what they cost in child support?"

Tears gather in her eyes and she starts shaking. I pull her into me, wrap my arms hard around her as I tell her, "It will be fine. I've got your back. He's not going to do anything."

She pulls her face back and looks at me, one tear slipping out, and it guts me. "I can't lose them, Max. They're all I have left of Melody. They are Melody. I can't do it."

She lets a sob out and presses her face into my chest. I hold her there for a minute, and because Jules is one of the strongest women I've ever met, she only submits to her anger and grief for a few moments before she swallows it down and pulls away from me. She rubs her finger under her eyes to wipe away the remaining tears and her voice quavers, "I'm fine."

"You are not," I mutter and I reach into her back pocket to pull out the phone I know she keeps there. I thrust it into her hands. "Call Tina. Ask if she can watch the kids for an hour. I'm going to take you out to dinner, ply you with a few glasses of wine to relax, and then I'm coming back here with you. I'll sleep on the couch."

"What?" she says, trying to push the phone back at me. "No. I don't need you to handle me, Max."

"Yes you fucking do, Jules," I growl at her, refusing to take the phone. "So let me do it. Call Tina. Now."

I think she might argue but then she just nods at me silently and calls Tina, who fortunately was home. Jules briefly told her about Dwayne's visit and that she needed about an hour to

cool down. Tina gladly agreed and within five minutes she and her son Marshall arrived and I was ushering Jules out the door.

I take her just about two miles from her apartment complex to a cozy Irish pub that I had spied one evening after I left Jules' apartment and before I hit the I-440 Beltline. It's packed because it's Saturday night but we're able to get a booth in the bar after only about a ten minute wait, and I think it's possibly because I was recognized by the hostess.

Whatever. I'll gladly take that so I can get Jules settled down.

A waitress comes quickly and there's no doubt that I've been recognized because she stares at me with wide eyes, gets flustered as she takes our drink orders, and calls me "sir" about twenty times too many.

Once she leaves, I hold my hand across the table, palm up, and Jules without any further prompting puts her hand in mine.

I curl my fingers around hers and squeeze gently. "What's your biggest fear?"

"That the court will give Dwayne the kids," she answers immediately and with no thought.

"What would he have to do for that to happen?" I ask.

She shrugs. "Hire a lawyer. File something, I guess. Get it before a judge."

"And what does he do for a living?"

"He's a mechanic," she says, her eyebrows knit together. "It's what he did in the Army, but he never holds a job long. He's always off chasing the next piece of tail and he has no qualms with women supporting him."

"What a loser," I mutter then squeeze her hand again. "Listen...for him to fight for the kids will take money, and he clearly doesn't have it. He can't even pay child support."

"But maybe that woman he's with will front him the money," she throws out.

"Um...excuse me, Mr. Fournier," I hear from my right, and my head turns slowly to see a boy of about thirteen sitting there with a pad of paper. A man--I'm guessing his father--stands behind him with his hand on his shoulder. "I'm really sorry to bother you, but do you think I could get your autograph?"

Inside I'm screaming, No. Fuck off, kid. Can't you see my woman is having a meltdown?

But there's no way I could ever do that to a fan, much less a nervous-looking kid with stars in his eyes.