Nolan
"She's what?" I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white as Colt's words register.
"I'm looking at them right now from the hardware store window," my best friend repeats. "Lisa's got Annabelle and Ashlynn cornered outside the dance studio, and it doesn't look friendly. Thought you'd want to know."
"Fuck." I grab my keys from my desk, already heading for the door. "I'm on my way."
I end the call and barrel past my crew, muttering something about a family emergency. The drive that should take fifteen minutes I make in eight, my mind racing faster than my truck.
Lisa showing up three days ago threw me completely off balance. Years of nothing, no calls, no visits, not even a birthday card for our daughter, and suddenly she's back, claiming she's changed, that she wants to be a family again. As if she can just erase walking out on a baby.