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He strides toward me the way that he would stride up to the jury box to make his points. In one hand, he holds a pile of papers.

He holds them up, locks his cold green eyes with mine, and rips the papers in half. Then, in half again. He tosses them at my feet, to flutter in the grass.

“That’s what I think of your divorce papers,” Malcolm says. His rich, smooth voice, perfect for courtrooms, sends a pulse of fear straight to my heart.

“H-how did you find me?” I step back.

He steps forward, full lips twisting. “Are you really that stupid, Julia? Your address is on the papers.”

Shit! I should have thought of that. Maybe my lawyer, Asha, could have done something to obscure my location from him. It’s too late now.

“Mommy?” Artie runs over to me. “What’s Malcolm doing here?”

“Be quiet. The adults are talking.” Malcolm doesn’t even look at him when speaking to him. He keeps staring at me. “I called you, emailed you. I even had the people from the bakery reaching out to you. You could have been dead and we wouldn’t have known.”

Obviously, I had been letting the texts, calls, and emails go unread. I didn’t want to give anyone any hints, especially because I knew he would be prowling around and pestering people about me. If he got even the slightest inkling that someone knew something, he would have hounded them. I couldn’t let that happen to the people I cared about, even if I wasn’t able to be around them anymore.

“You need to come back home now, Julia.” Malcolm spreads his hands, theatrical, performing for the audience in his mind because, in his head, he’s always the center of attention. “You need to leave this dirty little town behind.”

“I’m not going to go back. Not with you, not now, not ever.” I swallow hard and move back another step, bringing Artie with me. My butt bumps against the side of the house.

Malcolm also moves, keeping the distance between us the same. He has us penned in. His hands flex like he wants to turn them into fists and use them against me again. I’ve still got the bruise on my upper arm from the first time, though yellow, faded, and no longer painful. The memory is what hurts the worst.

“And I am not going to sign your silly papers.”

“So instead of an uncontested divorce, it’s contested,” I say, trying to sound brave. “So it will be a longer process, and the end result will still be the same. You can’t force me to stay married to you.”

“You think so?” He leans close. I smell his aftershave, the scent that, for such a short time, meant comfort and home.

“I think that you should leave now, Malcolm. Don’t talk to me again, please. Any communication from now on should be between our lawyers.”

“You think I don’t know what’s going on here?” he snaps.

“What you see is what you get! You know what you did and why I want this.”

“That’s bullshit.”

My eyes widen. I’ve never heard him swear before, not even once.

“You think I haven’t seen this same thing play out in court time and again?” Malcolm utters a harsh laugh. “You’re seeing someone else.”

I thank God that I already look surprised, otherwise my reaction would have given away that he’s right. I start to protest.

He talks over me, not ranting but orating, giving a speech to some invisible judge. “You couldn’t be happy with what you had, with what I gave you. You probably went scrolling around on social media until you saw an old, familiar face. You messaged them. You started talking with them. One thing led to another, and you decided to turn your back on your whole life for this new fling.”

He’s guessing.

He has no idea that I have been spending time with Wolf. I never told him much about my past, so he shouldn’t even know about the motorcycle club. He came out here based on a paranoid assumption.

A whimper makes me look down. Artie has big tears running down his cheeks. He clings to my leg. “Why are you arguing? It’s scary.”

Suddenly, I’m not afraid. I straighten my spine and lift my chin, staring up at the man who never really was a husband to me after all, not like he should have been. “Leave.”

“Fine,” Malcolm says coldly. “But this isn’t the end of things.”

I turn away from him and lift Artie into my arms. He tucks his face into my chest, sniffling. His tears wet my shirt. They burn me, fill me with the purest anger. How dare he come out here and act like this? How dare he scare my son? I’m going to need to talk to Asha as soon as her office opens tomorrow because this can’t be allowed to happen.

As Malcolm gets into his car, a motorcycle approaches. By now, I’ve come to recognize that rattling snarl. Wolf pulls into the driveway right as Malcolm turns at the end of the street. He jumps off and rushes over to us and puts his arm around my shoulders. My body automatically reacts to his, tucking in against him even though it would be seriously compromising if Malcolm came back and saw us like that.