Page 13 of Cold Foot Cash (Wreck’s Mountains #4)

Numbness was Harley’s companion now.

“Are you doing okay?” Abigail asked softly.

Harley forced her attention away from the streak she’d been staring at on the window. The cleaner had missed a spot. “Hmm?”

“I asked if you’re okay?”

“I mean, I’m a little annoyed that Lance called this meeting and then he’s already…” She checked the time on her phone. “Thirty minutes late.”

Abigail checked the door, and inhaled deeply. “I’ll be honest, he’s one of the most difficult ex-husbands I’ve ever dealt with.”

“He’s a thorn.”

“I was going to say asshole, but I’m trying to be professional,” her lawyer grumbled. “How are you doing, Harley? Seriously?”

There was worry in Abigail’s eyes, and Harley forced her lips into the shape of a smile. “I’m fine. Just ready for this to be done.”

“Do you have any plans to celebrate on Tuesday night?”

“Celebrate?”

“Celebrate your freedom. This has been a long, drawn-out road for you. It should’ve been done a long time ago.”

“I don’t…” Harley frowned, thinking about who she would even ask to go out with her. “I don’t have anyone who would see it as a celebration. My parents are disappointed, and live out of town. My sister’s mad at me now and she’s usually the one who takes me out. Plus, as soon as the judge signs off, I have to start gathering funds to pay Lance the money he’s getting from the divorce. It’s kind of depressing. He’s going to zero out my accounts.”

“Oh honey. I understand why you agreed to that in the beginning, just to get this divorce over with. Maybe depending on what he wants to negotiate today, we could ask for him to take less money from you.”

Harley huffed a depressed laugh. “He won’t sign off on that. You know he won’t.”

Abigail inhaled deep, then blew out the breath. “You’re probably right. He has no honor, dragging it out after you agreed to all of his terms. He should be paying you out. In a fair world, you should be getting everything. He’s wrong for this.” Abigail was older than Harley, somewhere in her mid-fifties, but she leaned closer and said, “Let me take you out for a glass of wine afterward. Or a bottle! For some, it is not a celebration, but you have been through hell. Freedom is going to do you well. Trust me. This first year will be strange, getting back on your feet, but you’re going to be fine. I promise.”

Harley’s eyes prickled with tears and she looked back at the streak on the window. If only Abigail knew how alone she felt. Having to distance herself from Cash at Carolina’s request had done something awful to her. Cash was light, and laughter, and right about now, she sure could use some of that good energy.

“You’re killin’ it today,” Abigail said kindly. “Boss woman pant suit, hair all done, make-up looking perfect. You look gorgeous. Never let that man see you limping, okay?” Abigail was looking straight into Harley’s soul when she said that.

Harley nodded slightly. “I won’t.”

The door swung open, and in walked the asshat himself, followed closely by Alissa, and then by his lawyer, Bronson Hall.

“What is this?” Abigail asked Bronson.

He was tight-lipped and looked stressed. All he did was shrug, and then sat down across the big conference room table, with a chair between him and Lance. Alissa sat right across from Harley. She was all dressed up, wearing a figure-hugging red dress, and had glued false eye lashes to her face today.

“What is happening?” Harley asked stiffly. “Why is she here?”

“Because Lance is no longer allowed to be around you and your freaking head games without me around,” Alissa ground out.

“Oh my God,” Harley said, already feeling drained. “I already told you, he’s yours. I sent you the fucking screenshots. I do not want him.” Harley turned to Lance and looked straight into his eyes. “I do not want you.”

“Be that as it may,” Bronson said, opening a folder, and pulling out paperwork. “We need to keep this meeting professional, so Mrs. Fallonherd—”

“Ms. Monroe,” she corrected him. “Five more days until I can officially change back to my maiden name, but I’ve already started switching it over on everything I can. I’m Ms. Monroe.”

“Ms. Monroe,” Bronson corrected patiently. “I would appreciate if you would watch your language. As you have no doubt seen by our emails, Mr. Fallonherd wanted to touch base before our court date and propose a few changes to the paperwork before he signs.”

“You haven’t signed the divorce papers yet?” Abigail asked.

“He has until Tuesday, if the papers meet his requirements.”

“What requirements, Lance? Hmm?” Harley asked. “You already get everything.”

Bronson cleared his throat. “Because there is now the issue of infidelity—”

“ His infidelity,” Harley told Bronson. “I just want to make sure we state the facts right.”

“Well, it has come to my attention that you have participated in such behavior as well, which is the reason Mr. Fallonherd responded by moving on with Ms. Rayne. He had no choice—”

“Bronson, cut the shit,” Abigail said in that steel tone that had been the reason Harley had hired her in the first place. “You and I both know that’s not how it happened, and you coming in here throwing accusations at my client, while your client is literally dragging his mistress into divorce proceedings is insulting to what we do. What does he want?”

Bronson pursed his lips, and glanced at Lance, then back to the paperwork in front of him. Carefully, he said, “Since the issue of her infidelity has arisen, there is the matter of her car. It is in Mr. Fallonherd’s name.”

“Both of our names are on it,” Harley corrected him.

“Correct, which is why Mr. Fallonherd feels he has the right to half of the profit that will be accrued when you sell the car.”

“When I sell my car,” Harley repeated, wanting to flip this damn table.

“Harley,” Abigail warned softly.

“When I sell the only thing I am getting to keep in the divorce. The one thing. While he kept everything about his old life—”

“Not everything,” Lance argued.

“Shut the fuck up!” Harley screamed, standing.

“Harley!” Abigail warned.

Harley jammed her finger at him. “Fuck you.”

The fury in his eyes as she talked down to him made everything so clear. He didn’t love her. He didn’t want her back. He was only interested in controlling her.

“You aren’t a man.”

“Harley, sit down,” Abigail ordered low.

“How can you represent a man like this?” she asked his lawyer. “You have to go home to your wife and talk about this case. What does she say about it? How does she feel about you helping a man drain a woman he treated like shit.” A stupid tear escaped to her cheek, and she dashed it away with the back of her hand. “What do you want, Lance? You want my clothes next? You want my shoes? You want my soul? What? What will finally fill that fucking awful hole inside of you?” A sob escaped her. “What?”

Lance crossed his arms over his chest. “I think because of the time it will take to sell the car, and procure the equity you have in it, we should put off the court date. I want exact numbers in the paperwork.”

Abigail allowed a dark laugh. Her chair creaked as she relaxed back into it, glaring at Bronson with an empty smile. “I wondered how you would do it this time. I wondered how you would avoid giving her closure. I wondered how, exactly, you would extend her suffering, and there it is. I’m getting the judge involved—”

“Abigail—”

“Enough! We have played so nice, Bronson. We have rolled over on everything and given your client everything he’s asked, so that we could speed things up and he could move on with that—” She gestured to Alissa. “—meanwhile, he has been aiming at my client for a year, and I’m done. Ms. Monroe asked me to go easy on you all, just to make this go by faster, in the hopes that if she played nice, you would be respectful and push this divorce on through, but it’s clear that won’t happen. Judge Harris will be informed shortly. I’m filing for sanctions for you wasting the court’s time and resources.”

“He’ll side with us and you know it. The husband is trying all avenues to save his marriage—”

“To drain her dry. Say it right, Bronson. To drain her dry. He’s doing all he can to ruin her.” Abigail stood and shouldered her bag. “Let’s go,” she said to Harley.

Harley hated Lance. Hated him. Hated everything about him. “See you Tuesday.”

“Does that mean you are heading to the car dealership—”

“Eat. Shit,” she gritted out.

And then she straightened her spine, and lifted her chin higher into the air, and left out the door that Abigail held open.

“Keep your eyes on your email,” Abigail advised Bronson.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Don’t let him see you fall apart,” Abigail said low as she let the door swing closed behind them. She smiled and nodded at the receptionist as she guided Harley toward the elevator at a brisk walk.

Harley blinked hard to keep the tears in and strode onto the open elevator.

She turned around in it to find Lance and Alissa standing by the receptionist desk. They were holding hands, and both staring directly at her.

She wanted to flip them the bird. Oh, she wanted that so badly, but instead, she squared her shoulders and glared right back at them until the doors closed.

“What am I going to do?” she whispered to Abigail. “If I sell my car, I only have a few thousand dollars in equity in it. If I give him half, that’s maybe fifteen hundred left over for me to put a down payment on a new car, and interest rates are crazy right now,” she rambled, her mind racing. “My payment will be double what it is right now and I’m having to give him all my money, and try to pay the debt I’m taking on.”

“Shhhh, let me think on it,” Abigail said. “I’m going to let the judge know what’s happening, and do some research on whether or not the car can even be added this late in the game.”

“I don’t even want it now,” she said honestly. “I don’t want his stupid name on any of my stuff.”

“I know. Just, don’t do anything rash, let me have a day to figure this out and see if I can push this court date through anyway. I’ll file for sanctions to try and curb their behavior.” Abigail turned to her and gripped her shoulders. “Breathe.”

Harley couldn’t draw in a deep breath to her lungs. Her entire chest was so tight, and the walls of the elevator were closing in on her.

“What he did was horrible. What you’re feeling is okay. You just got sideswiped by someone who hurt you, and he threw his mistress in your face on top of it. It’s okay to need a minute.” The elevator dinged, signifying that they’d reached the lobby of the big law office building. “Deep breath. Here we go.”

“Here we go,” Harley repeated softly.

She tried to focus on the clacking of her and Abigail’s high heels on the polished tile floor. Every clack got her one step closer to the exit. Just breathe. There were too many people down here, walking around, nodding their greetings, paying attention to her. The walk to the exit felt eternal.

It wasn’t until she was out of the building, through the parking garage, and back inside her car that she felt safe enough to allow a sob to escape. The parking garage had been full on the bottom two levels, but this upper level only had a few cars on it. she turned her car on and plugged her phone in with shaking fingers. Harley connected a call to Carolina immediately.

There was no answer.

“Come on,” she cried, connecting another call to her sister.

“What?” Carolina answered.

“I need…I need…” Harley’s breath hitched. “I’m alone.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t throw the people you care about to the wolves, Harley.”

“What?”

“I’m dealing with a lot right now.”

“But I just got out of a mediation with Lance—”

“Lance, Lance, always something with Lance. God, Harley, the world doesn’t revolve around you. Did it ever occur to you that I’m going through something awful too?”

“Awful like a divorce?” she asked in a small voice, trying to wrap her head around her sister’s anger.

“Yeah. Cash messaged me from some guy’s phone and sent me a video of the guy who’s been catfishing me, and I’m half a bottle of wine deep and pissed off, Harley. So no, I don’t give a shit about whatever mean truth Lance said to you.”

“Mean…truth.” So many things were clicking into place for her. “You asked me to stop talking to Cash, and I did. I came home like you wanted. But now I’m supposed to go through this week alone?”

“Oh sure, put me on a guilt trip. I can’t deal with your drama right now.” Carolina hung up.

She had friends, but they’d all been a part of the friend group with Lance. They all hung out with him still. They’d all met and gone drinking with Alissa. Lance had already called her mom, and she didn’t want to confide in anyone with ties to him.

Never in her life had she felt so alone.

That’s what men like Lance did—they alienated their prey until they just didn’t want to exist anymore. They made life so heavy, that it felt unbearable.

She closed her eyes as two tears raced down her cheeks. Do I even want to be here anymore? She’d never asked herself that in all her life, but right now, did she?

Harley opened her eyes as another sob wracked her body, and something fluttered in the breeze from the AC. There was Cash’s white feather in her cupholder, just sitting there where she’d left it. She’d put it in here and held it before she’d gone in, just hoping some of Cash’s strength and happy mojo would wear off on her.

Harley plucked the long feather from the cupholder and ran her fingertips up the cold shaft. God, she missed Cash. That made no sense, right? She’d only just met him this week, but she missed how happy she was with him. She missed…she missed…she missed herself.

Cash brought out the old her so easily, and God, she’d felt so hurt for so long, it had been a breath of fresh air to be around someone who liked her for exactly who she was.

She pressed the feather against her chest and exhaled a sob, forced herself to think of something happy.

Cash’s talons gentle around her arms…

Cash’s smile by the bonfire…

His wings spread wide as he played angel and stroked her hair from her face…

“We both know I can seduce you whenever I want…”

Him leaning against the open door of her car the first time they met…

The coffees waiting outside her motel door…

The paper bag of candy…

Feeding an owl shifter gummy worms…

That part dragged a heavy laugh from her, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

Garret offering her his rental house to recover in…

The way the girls of the Cold Foot Crew included her…

Darts with a handsome man…

Cashew…

Favorite garden ho…

She laughed thickly again, but it turned to a whimper.

The way he laughed when she did her elephant sound…

Canned margaritas…

Cash asking her what was her favorite flavor at the end of the night, knowing damn-well he would remember it for always…

The sky and the wind against her face…

The Cold Foot Crew below, waving up to her as Cash flew her over their mountain…

Feeling free…

She’d accepted that she wasn’t supposed to talk to him anymore, because Carolina had questioned if she cared about her, but Carolina didn’t care about what was happening to her right now. She was more worried about some guy she talked to for three months.

Feeling desperate to escape her head, Harley wiped her eyes again and opened the text thread with Cash. She’d turned all notifications off, so hadn’t seen his last messages until now.

He was worried about her. Asking if she was okay. Asking if he could come pick her up. Asking if she wanted to talk? Promising he could just listen if she was upset. Telling her he had figured out the catfish, and that wasn’t for the benefit of Carolina. She knew he’d done that for Harley, because she wanted to know. Because she wanted to protect her sister.

I’m alone , she typed out to him. Send.

His response was immediate. No you aren’t. Where are you?

About to head to a bar. I don’t want to think anymore.

Where?

I’m so alone, Cash. The tears picked back up, and she knew she was falling apart again.

Cash called, but she let it ring out, and refused to answer. She didn’t want him to hear her like this. The tears wouldn’t stop.

He called again.

She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t think straight!

Stop . Send.

Pick up. Please. You aren’t alone. Whatever happened, you aren’t alone.

He’ll never let me go, she typed out angrily . Tuesday won’t happen now. He found a way to keep me stagnant. He’s stalling it again. It’ll never end, Cash, it’ll never end. Send. I just need to figure some stuff out. Send.

He called again.

Stop. Send.

No, ho! You’re scaring me. Where are you? I’ll come to you.

I don’t want you to. Send. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Everything is fine. Send.

Red freaking flag. When a woman says things are fine, THEY ARE NOT FINE.

Talk later. Send.

Can you let me know when you get to the bar safe? Please? I’m worried. Just update me, best friend.

Her lips quivered, and she blinked to release two more tears. Gah, it had been so long since she’d cried like this. Best friend. It did feel nice to have someone out there in the universe who gave a damn.

Okay. Send.

She inhaled deeply and then tossed her phone onto the passenger’s seat, and pulled out of the parking spot.

She knew just the perfect place to go and drown out the racing thoughts in her head.