Page 79 of Coast

“I think we both know I could take all this,” I said, waving up at the mansion, “away if I want to. Don’t fuck with me right now.”

His eyes widened at that.

But there was no denying the paternity of my baby. We both knew that. And we also knew that courts didn’t like when fathers didn’t want to take care of their kids.

The only reason I hadn’t taken Travis to court was that I didn’t want him in my life anymore. And I damn sure didn’t want him to have any sort of claim on Lainey.

Desperate times, though.

“He’s out back,” Jake said, moving out of my way.

I stepped across the threshold I swore I would never cross again.

The last time I’d been inside this house, everything had been blurry with tears. I was clear-eyed right then.

And, damn, mymotel roomfelt more homey than this place did. It was all sprawling marble floors and white walls. Nota single bit of decor on the walls, barely any furniture in the rooms.

Everything had to be empty and pristine so it would look good as the background for content. No room in the house was off limits. You weren’t even allowed to leave a towel out in the bathroom after a shower.

I walked through to the kitchen I’d once fawned over, thinking I would be allowed to cook and bake in. Only to find that there weren’t even any pots or pans in the cabinets. Hell, there weren’t even any glasses. Everything was paper and plastic so it could be tossed and gotten out of the house. No clutter. No accidental junk in the background of a video.

I pressed a kiss to the side of Lainey’s head as I pulled open the sliding door to the backyard.

The yard was gorgeous; I had to give that to Travis. And, of course, the overworked groundskeeper.

It wasn’t a huge space, but thanks to some clever landscaping (and clever camera angles), it seemed lush and private.

The focal point of the yard was, of course, the pool. Even though no one ever got to go in it.

The scene was exactly what I was expecting. All the floodlights and up-tree lights were on. There were two cell phones on tripods and one man with a professional camera standing between them.

All the lenses were pointed at the woman standing on the other side of the pool, her body moving to a choreographed dance as she lip-synced to the music coming from one of the phones.

She was pretty. Young. Blonde.

This was my replacement.

In fact, I was pretty sure she was wearingmyold baby-blue swimsuit.

Because nothing belonged to me when I was with Travis. Everything was his: my clothes, my time, my mind, my body.

“For fuck’s sake, Sadie,” a familiar voice snapped, making the girl jump and turn to look over toward Travis. “Your timing was off again.”

My gaze followed Sadie as I tried to ignore the way my stomach still clenched at his angry reprimands—even when they weren’t directed at me.

“I—” Sadie tried to defend herself.

“What the fuck is the matter with you today?”

I knew what was wrong.

I’d been her.

Doing endless takes over the course of three or four hours to get one single ten to thirty-second video finished. Shower, rinse, repeat. All day. Half the night. Every single day of the week.

She was exhausted.

Her body hurt.

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