Page 16 of Line of Resistance

And so far it did seem to be helping. Now she just had to figure out what to do about the coat situation.

Eloise poured the remaining coffee into a couple of insulated paper cups, topping Bryson’s off with a healthy dose of the sweetened French vanilla creamer he loved before adding a tiny splash to hers. She capped them both, slid on insulating cardboard sleeves, and handed Bryson his. “Now you’ll be warm from the inside out.”

Bryson curved his hands around the cup, taking a careful sip the way he did every morning and afternoon before offering her a smile, as if a cup of coffee brightened his whole world.

Hopefully hers would do the same, because her head was pounding, her stomach was still threatening to repeat last night’s performance, and she was so pissed at Bryson’s dad for being such a pile of camel dookie that her shoulders were climbing up toward her ears.

Eloise led Bryson out of the building and into the cold outside air, stifling a shiver so he wouldn’t feel guilty for being bundled into her coat. Her car seats were heated, and she had a spare blanket and coat in the back, so she wouldn’t be chilly for long. Heck, she could even brew them up another round of coffee if she wanted to. Her trunk was basically a survivalist’s dream. One that helped her feel close to the only man who never let her down.

Hopefully he would be proud to know she listened to everything he taught her and continued to be diligent and prepared.

She opened the passenger’s door to her crossover, helping Bryson get loaded into the seat before tossing her bag into the back, grabbing the blanket, and climbing into the front seat. She tucked herself under the plush fleece, wishing it was as warm as the heavier blanket she kept in the trunk, as she flipped on both the seat warmers and the first lukewarm air poured through the vents. “You want a snack for the road?”

Bryson’s eyes met hers and she couldn’t miss the hunger there. It was yet another aspect of his life she could only control during school hours. He always had breakfast and lunch Monday to Friday, but her power didn’t extend into the evenings or weekends.

Technically.

Eloise flipped open the console and started digging through the emergency snacks stacked inside. None of it was particularly nutritious or anything a person would want to live on exclusively, but they would absolutely keep energy levels up and fill an empty belly short-term. “Take these. They’re my favorite.” She pulled out a few of the peanut butter protein bars she was partial to and stacked them on Bryson’s lap, making a mental note to replenish her stash when she got home.

You never knew when your life might depend on your ability to be prepared. Especially in Alaska.

Bryson snatched them up, stuffing the wrapped bars into the pockets of his blue jeans. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I always have them in there. If you ever want more, just let me know.” She tried to sound casual, like she wasn’t pondering if the weight of her tiny SUV would be enough to crush a rage filled alcoholic.

“Hopefully your dad’s okay.” She didn’t actually hope that at all. Nothing would make her happier than dropping Bryson off and discovering his piece of poop sperm donor frozen in the front yard. Of course, that would add yet another layer of trauma to a little boy who’d already witnessed way too much.

Hopefully he’d be frozen in the backyard instead.

“He just probably forgot.” Bryson’s eyes went to his lap. “He does that sometimes.”

Eloise fished around for something to say. Something to make the sad little boy beside her feel less worthless. Less abandoned. But the only things that came to mind would only make her feel better and him feel worse.

Like pointing out his father was a sorry excuse for a parent.

Mentioning he should never have been allowed to breed in the first place.

Wondering exactly how long it could possibly take for alcoholism to finally finish him off.

Eloise fell silent instead, choosing to keep her mouth shut because it was what was best for the little boy beside her. And that was part of being an adult. Doing what was best even when it wasn’t what you wanted.

Clearly Nate didn’t get the memo.

The ride to Bryson’s house was relatively long. He lived at the very edge of the district, down more than a few narrow roads, making her grateful she’d upgraded to all-wheel drive when she decided to move back to Alaska two years ago. Unfortunately, when she pulled up in front of the run-down structure Bryson called home, there was no dead body in the front yard. The backyard looked disappointingly dead body free too.

She put the SUV in park, planning to walk Bryson to the door in the hopes she might be able to have a little talk with the turd burglar who didn’t seem to realize he was supposed to put his child first. But before she could even unbuckle her seatbelt, Bryson was out of the car, offering a rushed thank you before slamming the door and racing up the unshoveled driveway. She blinked and he was gone, disappearing through the beat-up front door, leaving her staring after him.

“Forking heck.” She sighed and shifted into reverse, backing out of the drive since the opportunity to run a negligent parent over didn’t readily present itself. It took almost a half hour to make it back home and her mood only soured more on the way. By the time she pulled into her apartment complex, finger punching the button on her garage opener like it was responsible for all the wrongs in the world, anger was amplifying the steady throb still pounding in her cranium.

How could a parent be like that? Especially the parent of a kid as sweet and gentle as Bryson. It wasn’t forking right and it wasn’t flipping fair.

She stomped out of her car, grabbing the bag from the backseat before collecting the coat Bryson abandoned, slinging it over one arm instead of putting it on. Hopefully the cold air would cool a little of the rage heating her blood. Flinging open the door of the detached space and traipsing up the sidewalk leading to her door, she stopped halfway up the stairs, staring at the sight in front of her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She shuffled the items in her arms around, managing to free up a hand so she could grab the package on her doorstep. The balloon tied to it bounced off the center of her face and she smacked at it, knocking it out of the way as she wedged her key into the deadbolt and stumbled inside, juggling the armload she carried on her way to the kitchen. Dumping everything onto the counter, she yanked at the card taped to the box of chocolates. She shouldn’t even bother opening it. No doubt they were from Nate, apologizing for carrying her over his shoulder through a public place after making her look like a fool for the past year.

As the card slid from the envelope, purple glitter dropped across the granite surface, making yet another mess she would have to deal with. Eloise flipped it over and scanned the surprisingly sentimental text scrawled on the front. “Gross.”

If he thought she could be won over with a little sugar he was dumber than—

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