Page 44 of Protector

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The cars in front of me moved at a snail’s pace through the school parking lot, much like how I imagined rush hour went in Los Angeles.

At this point, it would’ve been faster to have parked a few blocks away and jogged to the parent pick-up line.

I’d been late leaving the bakery and had gotten caught at every red light along the way. To make matters worse, the sky that had been threatening rain all day chose that moment to open up.

“C’mon,” I snapped at the dashboard in frustration. “Just get your kid and go. It’s not hard.”

Every day, there were the parents who refused to park and instead used the drive-through lane as their own personal valet while they sherpa-ed their child into the school or hosted a mommy get-together on the sidewalk.

I checked the clock, knowing Dakota was going to be livid.

She’d finally found other fourth-graders who loved comics as much as she did, and today was their first official club meeting at the library. Given the way the line was moving, she was going to be very late.

I impatiently drummed my fingers against the steering wheel as the car in front of me shifted forward a mere three inches while halfheartedly singing along with the song on the radio.

A flash of a smile caught my attention and I jolted up in my seat, checking the rearview mirror. I knew that grin. I saw it in every one of my nightmares.

Manny.

I spotted the back of his dark gray hoodie, stopped just feet behind my car. I dropped the gearshift from park into reverse and was just letting off the brake when a small boy came bounding up to him.

The man draped an arm around the child, and they disappeared into a sea of umbrellas. The car behind me tapped their horn as the line began moving again, and I shifted into drive.

What was wrong with me?

I could’ve killed a random father in front of his kid, and everyone else’s because of his smile. Maybe Lucy and Molly had it right. I needed professional help.

There was just the minor issue of figuring out how to talk about what happened with a complete stranger when I hadn’t been able to discuss it with people I’d known for years.

Dakota spotted my car and took off toward me, the backpack on her head acting as a makeshift umbrella.

“Where have you been?” She exclaimed before climbing into the backseat. “Barry said four o’clock sharp. No late-comers.”

I turned the radio down before pulling out. “Well, it’s the public library. It’s not like they can keep you out. How was school?”

She dug around in her backpack before meeting my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Fine. We had to write a paper on where we’re going over Christmas break, so that sucked.”

“Dakota Mae, do not say that word,” I chastised before turning up the windshield wipers. The rain was coming down faster than the desert sand could absorb it, flooding the streets around us. If it kept up, I’d need a boat by the time Kate’s school let out.

“Sorry. It blew. Better?”

A large truck went flying past, sending a wall of water onto the car and obliterating my ability to see through the windshield. I ground my teeth together and increased the wiper speed again. “For the love of all the saints, Dakota. Can you not right now?”

“Fine,” she grumbled, pulling a comic from her backpack.

Except for the soft squeak from the windshield wipers moving over the glass, the remainder of the drive was silent.

We pulled up in front of the library, and I turned around with a wide grin. “Only five minutes late. If Barry has a problem with that, he can come visit with me.”

Dakota shook her head and opened the door. “You’re not even scary, Mama.”

“I could be—”

“No,” she insisted. “You cried that one time a mouse got caught in the mousetrap. Plus, you don’t even have any superpowers. You’re like a fairy princess.”

“Fairy princess? Couldn’t I at least be Thor’s sidekick?”

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