Stealing Home (Callahan Family Book 2)

by Carrie Aarons

  “Have you heard from Laurel at all?” she asks, the conference room empty except for us.

  “Nothing this week. They’re still trying to get the trial completely scheduled, and Shane’s lawyers are being difficult with their … discovery and evidence, I think Laurel said?”

  The legal terms always confuse me, especially since I keep jumping back and forth between criminal and civil cases.

  Karla nods. “Of course they are. You’re one strong woman, Hannah. Don’t forget that. So many of my clients would have recanted at this point, would have called everything off and gone back to the bastard. You haven’t wavered once. That means a lot.”

  She doesn’t pat me or reach out to hold my hand, but somehow her words are so much better than any kind of physical comfort. Knowing a badass woman like Karla thinks that about me? It fortifies my shaky confidence at being in this conference room.

  The glass doors of the room swing open, and three of Shane’s lawyers walk in single file behind one another. Shane isn’t here, but then again, I didn’t expect him to be. He hasn’t bothered to show up for any of mediation, instead deciding to wield his power from far off beaches since making bail. The judge at the initial hearing didn’t deem him a flight risk, and so the man gets to do whatever he pleases. The irony of it isn’t lost on me.

  All three lawyers give a brisk nod to Karla, but don’t acknowledge me in the slightest. I wonder how someone could defend someone like Shane, from these guys to his criminal lawyers, but I guess everyone will go to some extent for money.

  They go through the first few line items, of which include Shane’s World Series rings collection, our cars, and the vacation home we have in the Hamptons. He wants to keep all of them, and I have no objections. Sure, right now I have one of our SUVs, but it doesn’t bother me to buy some used middle of the line vehicle rather than the luxury one I have now.

  Then they get to the house, and alimony, or child support. My hands begin to sweat, because these are really the only things that matter to me. Shane can take all of our material possessions, leave me without my jewelry, fancy clothes, or millions off his contract. I just hope he’s going to be honorable when it comes to the girls. He should give our girls a roof over their heads and enough money to cover his half of what their living expenses should be.

  “My client is willing to provide a settlement of three thousand dollars a month until their daughters turn eighteen, to provide for their basic living expenses. He will keep the house, where they can stay with him during the designated weekends.”

  I nearly choke on a laugh as disbelief settles in my veins. Three thousand dollars? Is this a joke? It would cost me two-thirds of that to find daycare once Dahlia eventually move son from being my babysitter, just so I could go to work and try to feed and house Noelle and Breanna. Not to mention all the extras, like healthcare and clothing and activities they wanted to try. And for him not to give them the house, or for us to sell it and split the profits of the sale? He’s trying to play with me, manipulate my mind, and get under my skin.

  I hate that it’s working, and he’s not even in the room.

  I’m about to say so, to have an outburst of epic proportions because the whole thing is just so preposterous, but Karla pats my knee. It’s as if she’s saying, I got this.

  “Those terms are so outrageous, you have to know there is absolutely no way I would ever advise my client to accept them. Your client made over twenty million dollars last year. He has a legal obligation, especially when he’s trying to argue for joint custody, to take care of his children in the manner to which they’re accustomed to. As I’ve seen, and has been reported to the courts, he has now missed one visitation and cut another short. Your client is on thin ice. As such, you need to go back to the drawing board with him, and really make him think about our counter offer. Ten thousand a month in child support, plus the family home will be sold and split jointly between the parties. We have played fair ball, no pun intended, up until now. Mrs. Giraldi is not asking for more than she is owed, in fact, I’d venture to say she has been more than understanding given the circumstances in which she lived for the last five years. If our terms are not met, or resistance continues, we’ll have no choice but to take this to court. And I’m not sure your client wants one more court case on his plate. Have a nice day, gentlemen.”

  With that, Karla stands and motions for me to follow her. We walk out, heads held high, and I thank my lucky stars that my parents helped me find a divorce attorney who just handed those chauvinistic pigs their asses on a silver platter.

  26

  Walker

  “You seem like you’re somewhere else tonight.”

  I reach out to lace my fingers with Hannah’s on the table.

  Her eyes are unfocused until they swing to me. “Sorry, just thinking about the trial again.”

  Ah. The thing that has been sitting like a five-hundred-pound pink elephant in the corner of my sun room since Hannah arrived. They finally set the date for Shane’s trial, bringing the charges related to what happened the night in the stadium parking lot. Of course, I’ll be called to testify, but that could be anywhere from the middle of spring training, to sometime during the season. So aside from being a stain on humanity, he’s also fucking with the baseball season, considering both myself and Colleen will possibly have to miss games or trips to be in court.

  That’s the least of my worries, though. I can practically feel the tension and fear pouring off of her.

  “I’m glad you could come over tonight, though. It helps being together.” I try to give her a reassuring smile, but I don’t think it works.

  “Me too.” Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

  Dahlia agreed to babysit tonight, so at least Hannah and I can have some alone time even if she has to go home at the end of the night.

  We agreed on takeout Thai food and a bottle of wine on my screened-in porch. It’s not yet spring, which means icy temps for Pennsylvania, but I’ve got the heater going. Plus, the architect who built my house made this entire room of glass, including the ceiling. It’s pretty damn romantic to look up at the stars under candlelight, and anything I can do to woo this woman is what I’ll do. Especially with everything that’s weighing heavy on her mind.

  Suddenly, she focuses every ounce of attention on me. “I’m so sorry, Walker. I’m sorry you’re being dragged into this. That you were present that night, that you had to see me like that. I hate that you had to see me like that.”

  Immediately, I’m out of my seat and crouching beside her chair, taking her chin into my hands. We haven’t spoken about that night since we’ve been together, at least not in detail. The whole thing seems surreal, like maybe it didn’t even happen. But with the trial date being set, reality has dumped a bucket of ice water on our happy, rose-colored bubble.

  “Don’t you dare apologize for that. I worried for weeks, still do, about what would have happened if I wasn’t there. It tears me up inside knowing that he did that to you for years. I want to fly into a blind rage every time I think about it. Every time I touch your body, or hear you talk, all I want to do is worship the very ground you walk on. I can’t imagine someone doing any less than that, or even a fraction of what he put you through.”

  “Was it awful? That night? What will you say in court?” she whispers, tears shining in her eyes.

  I have to look down and gulp through all the emotions flitting through my system.

  “I just remember seeing you, lying there, and having this overwhelming need to throttle Shane into the ground. And then, after Hayes pulled me off, all I wanted was to hold you. I could barely give you over to the paramedics, I remember them having to pry you from my arms. When we were in the ambulance, I couldn’t stop myself from shaking. And then sitting next to you in that hospital …”

  My voice breaks, and I didn’t expect tonight to be so emotional. But it’s good, we have to get this out in the open before the trial. Before we can move on to our next chapter toget
her.

  “I don’t think it’s a secret that I’ve harbored feelings for you when you were married. Honestly, I think I drank myself into a stupor on the night of your rehearsal dinner. But I buried it, tried to distance myself. If I had known, Hannah, I would have … I would have done something years ago.”

  She palms my cheek. “How do I deserve you? How could I have been so blind? All those years, I should have opened my damn eyes.”

  I shake my head. “But we wouldn’t be where we are now, for better or for worse. What do you remember about that night?”

  I’ve been wondering it since I picked her up off the pavement months ago.

  Hannah sucks in a breath. “Honestly? Not much. I think I must have blacked out when it all started. I remember why we were arguing; I uncharacteristically lit into Shane for wanting to go out drinking without me after the game ended. The girls had been home with a sitter, and I had a free couple of hours, which was unusual. I wanted my husband to want to take me out to celebrate. He refused. I pushed back. That’s when things got ugly. After that, it’s all bits and pieces. Hayes yelling. Colleen’s nine-one-one call. I remember you whispering to me in the ambulance, telling me that I was going to be okay. And after … I remember coming out of a haze once in the hospital, with your fingers wrapped in mine. It was the most comfort I’d felt in ages. You saved me, Walker.”

  “I hate that it happened the way it did, but it brought you to me. I can’t hate that.” I kiss her hand. “We’re going to make it through this trial. You know that, right?”

  She gulps and nods, but looks unsure. “I hope he goes to jail, or has some kind of punishment, but I’m not counting on it. He’s famous, it’s his first offense. Other mediocre men have gotten off for less and doing worse. I don’t know what I’ll do if he just walks free of this.”

  “And if he doesn’t, we cross that bridge when we come to it. Together. I buried my feelings once, let you walk into another man’s arms once, I won’t do it again.”

  She wipes her eyes with the back of her free hand. “Good. I’m not letting you go anywhere either, for the record.”

  Ever since the night of the drive-in, it feels like something has slipped into place between us. Like the last missing puzzle piece aligned, and now we’re in sync more than ever. I’m so close to letting those three little words slip out, but I don’t want to cause her anymore turmoil. The trial has to be looming closer, and with baseball season just around the corner, I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.

  I do love her, though. I’ve been in love with her for a long time. I’ve often wondered what she would have said if I told her I had feelings for her all those years ago on the eve of her wedding, instead of drowning my sorrows in expensive liquor.

  My phone rings in my pocket, and when I pull it out, Dad’s name flashes across the screen. I grumble, because I don’t want to pick it up. But if I ignore it, he’ll just keep calling. My father is not a man who takes being pushed off well.

  “I’m sorry, hang on one second.” I hold up an apologetic finger to her and step out of the room.

  It’s the worst time for him to be calling, but then again, Daniel Callahan waits for no man. Not even God or Santa Claus.

  “Hello?”

  “Walker, yes. I need you on the jet tonight, down to Florida. There is going to be a package filmed for SportsNews about the team, and you need to be our representing face. I’ll send a car in about half an hour.”

  He doesn’t ask how I’m doing, or if I’m in the middle of something. Just assumes I’ll jump when he says how high, like I have so many times before.

  “Actually, Dad, I’m busy. I can’t go tonight, or this week, in fact. I’ll have to talk to you later in the week.” My tone is brisk and final.

  There is a beat, and I know it’s probably the first time I’ve ever left my father speechless. “You have an obligation to this ball club and to this family. You are the face of the franchise, and I need you to go down there, put on your big boy suit, and do the work you signed up for. The car will be there in half an hour.”

  My temper flares. “And like I said, I am busy with an important matter. You’ll have to find someone else.”

  “What is so important that you can’t go give an interview to bolster the reputation of your team?” Dad sounds so irritated, I think he must be shredding a piece of his hundred-dollar stationery in his home office.

  “I have a person I care very deeply about over for dinner. I’m not going to cut it short, or fly out on some whim. She needs me, and this is where I want to be.”

  An agitated breath comes through the other end of the phone. “Please tell me you’re not being as stupid as I think you are?”

  “And how stupid would that be, Dad?” My response is petulant, but I can’t help it.

  “If you’re seeing Shane Giraldi’s wife, after all we talked about and where your future is headed—”

  I cut him off. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I am. And for my life, and my future, this is the absolute best thing. You may think you have my future all planned out, and that I’ll follow it to a T, like I have for almost thirty years up to this point. But I’m done with that now. It’s not selfish of me to put my own happiness first. Hell, Sinclair does it all the time and you let him get away with it. I’m still a Callahan, I still know my role, but I’m making room for my own priorities.”

  And with that, I hang up. It will infuriate him, I’ll hear about it for weeks to come, and I know this isn’t the last of this fight. But right now, I don’t care.

  Like I said, I’m putting my own happiness first. Right now, my priority is going back to that radiant woman and making sure she feels as comfortable as possible in what is going to be one of the most trying times of her life.

  So, that’s exactly what I do.

  27

  Hannah

  Walker left for spring training today, and my world feels a little dimmer.

  Not that I don’t have any number of things to keep me distracted. Between the salon, the girls, my legal battles, and the tasks that come with living everyday life, I’ve got a full plate.

  Things at Siesta couldn’t be going better, honestly. I’ve been there for a few months now and have taken on a lot more responsibility. I’ve been assisting with dye jobs, jumping in to style and blow dry if someone doesn’t have time, and training on the scheduling program. Ginny is talking about paying for me to renew my license, which I told her she didn’t have to do, but after the trial and the divorce are all settled, I fully plan on going back to school and getting it done. I want to work in my fullest capacity as a hairdresser, and give my girls a life that I can be proud of providing.

  The divorce continues to be drawn out, with Shane sending his lawyers back with pettier and pettier terms. Aside from the house and the child support, I don’t want a single thing. But he’s not budging. I wish, God I wish so badly, that I was set up enough to just walk away and not need anything from him. But the girls would suffer if I did that, and so I have to keep on fighting.

  Walker is one of the bright spots in my weeks, and now I won’t see him for at least a month. Not until he’s able to come home for a long weekend. And then after that, the season will start up. I know all about being a baseball girlfriend and wife, and our together time is about to become very scarce. I’m not scared, per se, about what that means for our relationship. It will definitely be a challenge, but I’m willing to make it work.

  He’s worth everything, all of the lonely nights of missing him and strain it will put on my divorce process. Walker is the kindest, most worthy man I’ve ever known, and I’m not letting him go.

  I was a little taken aback that he was so honest about his past feelings for me. Of course, over the years, I suspected something. There was always that spark that never would go out between us. As a married woman, I chose to ignore it. But I always wondered what could have been if I’d met Walker, somehow, instead of Shane.

  Now
, looking back, I wish I had the courage to explore that. Not that I was a cheater or would want to betray someone, but I stayed in an abusive marriage for five years when the right guy was standing right in front of me. I feel like a fool for that, and also for not telling him how deeply I’ve fallen for him before he left for Florida and the spring training facilities.

  Some things, though, are better left for after the hardest pills I have to swallow. Kind of like gleaming gems I’m keeping in my back pocket to celebrate with after the darkness dissipates.

  The trial starts in two weeks and prepping for it has become a full-time job. I’m on the phone with Laurel, the prosecutor, nearly every day. Between my anxiety and her own need to nail every single detail into place, we’re doing a bang-up job of covering all our bases. I’m terrified of what is to come, what I’ll have to relive during it … because I feel like a completely different person than that weak woman who let her husband hurt and abuse her. But I also want it to happen, so it can be over one way or another.

  I’m surfing on my laptop, looking at different continuing education and certification courses, when there is a harsh knock at the front door. I check the clock, because the girls are at visitation with Shane and Dahlia is out. It’s barely dinner time, so I’m confused as I go to answer it, but am not thinking about anything.

  My heart halts as I open the door.

  “What are you …” I catch myself. “Hi, bugs!”

  I try to paste on my most enthusiastic smile as I take in the sight of Shane, standing on my front steps, our two daughters with sullen expressions on their faces standing behind him.

  “Hi, honey.” He puts on his most charming smile, but all I see are the cracks of evil underneath.

  “Mommy!” Breanna runs to me from behind him, and he almost reaches out to snatch her but she falls into my arms first.