Baylee Breaking

Prologue

Prologue“Chase, I hate to tell you this, man, but you're screwed.” Those were the words with which Jordan Miller greeted his best friend and client when he walked into the Greene County courtroom that fateful April morning.

Chase raised one dark eyebrow at his attorney.

“You got the ball buster.”

Chase closed his eyes in disgust. The one judge I most hoped to avoid, the Honorable Brenda McMillan, a radical feminist who seems to live for putting men in their place. No matter the facts in the case, she always managed to find the man in the wrong and rake him over the coals. This was not likely to be an exception.

The two men took their seats at the front of the courtroom. Surely for something as simple as an uncontested divorce, the ball buster would not feel the need to live up to her reputation. Right?

* * *

Three hours later, Chase knew how wrong he'd been. The proceedings had given a new definition to the word 'screwed'.

“I can't believe she awarded Candace the whole house, both cars and half of my retirement,” he groused as he and Jordan stalked across the parking lot. Instead of getting into his – her car – he meandered to the playground beyond. “What the hell is that about? Candace cheated on me!”

“Be glad she didn't make you pay child support too,” Jordan replied, still looking a little shell-shocked.

“I'd have appealed that! There's no way I'm paying support on someone else's kid.” Chase sank into a park bench under the shade of a fragrant pine. A chilly wind blew through the perfumed branches, but the sweet scent brought no comfort. He tried to shore up his anger. Better anger than grief. But it was no use. Despair chewed on his guts. After ten years of marriage, the last thing he had expected was to find himself single, homeless and broke.

“You know something, Jordan?” he asked, his voice flat and dark.

“What?”

“Life sucks.”

His friend nodded sympathetically. “You've had a hard couple of weeks, Chase. Why don't you come over tonight? Jenn's making one of her gourmet dinners and, well, she said I should invite you.

Chase smiled without humor. “Tell Jenn I said thank you, but no. If I have to watch you two being happy together, and her pregnant too, I think I might just be sick. I need to be alone, Jordan.”

“I hear ya,” his friend said, smoothing down an errant blond curl. He stood. Then, without warning, Jordan laid a hand on Chase's shoulder. “Promise me you won't do anything stupid,” he said in a low, intense voice.

“I'm not going to let that b***h win,” Chase replied.

Jordan looked at him a moment, nodded, and then walked away. Chase gulped. Anger wavered, died. Looking to Heaven, he asked aloud, “What the hell am I going to do now?”