Page 7 of Loaded Laces

She stills, eyes going wide, clearly realizing her mistake.

Not that she lets me sit in that victory.

Her chin lifts. “I’m leaving.”

She turns for the open door again, yanking at the panel.

I hold it fast, but something in the back seat draws my focus.

Movement.

A jerk at the door. A hand shoving at my chest. “Let.Go,” she grunts.

But I’m not paying attention to Belle right now.

I’m staring through the back window of that shitty fucking car, trying to discern what’s making that movement…

And then Ido.

Because I see a kid who’s all of nine or ten slowly sitting up, hair disheveled, eyes sleepy?—

Grayeyes sleepy.

Everything in me locks down.

And then bursts free when I hear,

“Mom?”

Four

Belle

I hear Quinn’s voice,and ice spreads out through my insides.

Not the fake cold I slap on to keep everyone at bay, but the real shit, the terror that grips tightly in iron claws and shakes and shakes andshakesuntil I’m torn open and my insides are spilling out onto the floor.

Dumb.

I’m so fucking dumb.

Fingers wrap around my arm.Tightly.

“Mom?” West growls.

“You’re hurting me,” I whisper, though he’s not. Not really. Still, his hold immediately loosens.

“Mom?”I hear again, worry in Quinn’s voice.

He’s smart, my kid, so fucking smart that there’s no way that he didn’t pick up on the scene or the tension.

“Buckle up, kid,” I tell him. “We’re going.”

“Mom—”

“Now, kid.”

It’s said in my Mom Tone, a tone I don’t pull out regularly—which is lucky for me today because it means that Quinn listens without further protest, and I hear his belt click as I lean in, jam the keys in the ignition and start up the engine. “I’ll just be a minute.”

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