Page 15 of Line of Resistance

“Eloise—”

She lifted one hand, cutting him off. “I don’t care.” She snuggled deeper into the bulk of her coat. “I don’t know what your deal is, but can you just leave me alone?”

Could he? He’d tried. Multiple times.

And failed each and every one of them.

But those times were for him. Self-serving. This one would be for her, and maybe that was what he needed too. A reason to walk away from her that wasn’t his own.

He managed a jerky nod. “Fine.”

Eloise straightened her spine, chin barely lifting as she sucked in a breath and turned toward the bar. “Good.” She took a step before tilting her head his direction, eyes still refusing to come his way. “I’m gonna go wait for Luca inside.” Her chin tucked and her gaze shifted, finding his lower half. “I’m sorry about your pants.” She turned away and he could swear she said one final word as she walked away.

“Sorta.”

CHAPTER FIVE

ELOISE

“MISS RIVERS?”

The soft voice at her open office door yanked Eloise’s head up from where it was resting on her desk. She blinked away the clouds blurring her vision and snapped her spine straight. “Yes?”

She’d somehow managed to make it through the whole school day without barfing or falling asleep. But she still had work left that needed to be finished before she went home, so, the second the last kid was out the door, she’d flipped off her office light and given her pounding head and rolling stomach the break they needed.

And then promptly fell asleep.

Bryson stood in the glowing rectangle cut from the lights of the main office on the other side of her door. He shifted uncertainly on his feet. “A-are you okay?”

“Of course.” She worked hard to make sure her voice was softer this time. Gentler. “Just a little tired.” She smoothed down the mess of her hair and scooted closer to the desk as Bryson continued to watch her warily. “Is everything okay with you?”

He glanced over one shoulder before stepping a little deeper into the shadows of her office. “My dad didn’t come to get me.”

Of course he didn’t.

It wasn’t a surprise. Bryson’s father forgot him more often than not, and usually one of the other parents who lived in the same area would take him home. But, that wouldn’t be the case today. It was late enough that the only people left would be custodians and a handful of teachers lingering over their lesson plans.

“I can take you home.” She’d had every intention of staying until she was finished with all the day’s tasks, but maybe this was a sign.

Just like when she puked on Nate’s shoes.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you right away, but I thought he might come.” Bryson offered an apology that wasn’t his to give. It was something he was no doubt programmed to do in an effort to avoid being on the receiving end of an adult’s anger and all that occasionally came with it.

“You don’t have to apologize, Bryson. This isn’t your fault.” Eloise stood, wincing as her head throbbed. She cracked open a bottle of water from her desk, chugging it down along with a couple more aspirin, before grabbing her bag, loading it up with her computer and cell phone, and slinging it over one shoulder. “Do you have everything?”

Bryson nodded.

Eloise looked him over, taking in his too small shoes, too big clothes, and the filthy jacket no one would consider warm enough for an Alaskan winter. “Okay.”

Last winter she’d managed to sneak him thick socks and a heavy coat, but both seemed to quickly disappear, leaving her unsure how to proceed. Maybe she could have him store the items here and use them while he was at school, but that wouldn’t do him any good on evenings and weekends.

It was one more frustration for her overloaded and aching brain to ponder. At least the source of this one wasn’t a six-foot-four fart knocker who deserved a kick to the family jewels.

“Here.” Eloise draped her coat over Bryson’s shoulders, tucking it around him. “You want a cup of coffee to keep you warm on the way home?”

Bryson gave her a sheepish nod and followed her to the coffee station they visited twice a day. Once in the morning before school started, and once after lunch. It was a trick she’d learned when she was a teacher in Idaho. Occasionally she’d come across a parent who didn’t want to give their hyperactive children pharmaceutical assistance, and she’d learned caffeine will actually calm a kid with ADHD down and help them focus. In Bryson’s case, it wasn’t that his dad refused meds. In order to refuse them, there would have been a trip to the doctor and a subsequent prescription, which would have involved effort and at least temporary sobriety. Both were clearly way too much to ask from a man who couldn’t even manage to get his child a winter coat from one of the many resources she’d attempted to connect him with.

So, she scheduled time out of Bryson’s day in the hopes it would take the edge off the energy and lack of impulse control that disturbed not only his own school day, but also his classmates’.

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