Page 58 of Needing Your Love
“Yes, Chief.” Addy scuttled toward the kitchen, sneakers squeaking on the laminate floor.
Jimmy, blank-eyed, as though reliving every moment of physical abuse from his father, cowered in his seat.
Heat erupted inside me, and I strode forward, pulse thrumming and muscles quivering. “Kurt!” I hollered, and the man stumbled around.
Red-rimmed eyes met mine, the scent of booze leaking out of his pores. “This doesn’t concern you, Chief,” he sneered, giving me his back again.
“You cause any sort of ruckus in my town while drunk, and you better believe I’ll be stepping in to make sure things don’t get out of hand,” I warned, my hand falling to the butt of my gun on instinct.
“Got what I came for—my kid,” Kurt snarled over his shoulder. “Order that fairy over there to keep his hands to himself and to stay away from my son, or so help me God…”
Ignoring Jimmy’s trembling form in my periphery didn’t come easy when all I wanted to do was wrap him up in my arms and assure him everything would be okay—if he would even allow me to hold him like I used to.
“Did you drive over here, Kurt?” I asked, needing to stay focused on the task at hand. My body tensed, ready for whatever shit the drunken fool might pull. “Because last time I checked, you no longer had a license.”
Kurt glanced out the diner’s front windows overlooking the gravel lot. “I’m not stupid, Chief.”
“Then what’s your truck doing out there?” Jamie asked from behind me, and my shoulders lowered slightly at the knowledge he had my back.
“Friend drove me—he’s at Pedro’s picking up a sub.”
Sure he was.
“Keys.” I gestured with my hand.
He eyed me. Glanced out the window again as though weighing his options.
“Don’t make this uglier than it already is.” I spoke quietly, my tone conversational and unthreatening. “You know you don’thave a leg to stand on, so just give ‘em over. Your mom will come pick DJ up, and Jamie can run you home since you’ve clearly had too much to drink. I’ll bring your truck along in a little while, all right?”
Kurt hesitated another minute before slapping his keys into my outstretched palm.
“Come here, DJ,” I held out my other hand, and the boy sidled away from his dad, who released him without argument. The boy tucked himself against me. “Jamie?”
“Let’s go, Kurt.” My son motioned Kurt toward the exit, and the drunk asshole thankfully shuffled from Jimmy’s booth without a fight.
I released a heavy exhale, my hand tight on DJ’s shoulder. “You okay?” I asked once the door shut, leaving the restaurant in stifling silence. I could feel every set of patron’s eyes, their ears straining.
“You’re my hero.”
My heart ached over DJ’s whispered words that sounded too damned familiar. I glanced at Jimmy.
He still huddled in the booth’s corner, arms wrapped around himself, eyes glazed over as though lost in the past.
A quick scan of the half-full restaurant revealed every gaze plastered on us as I’d expected. I waved my hand. “Go on back to your meals. Show’s over.”
Murmurings slowly broke out but not loud or intrusive.
I crouched in front of DJ. “You head to the kitchen with Miss Addy. She’s going to dip you up a scoop of ice cream while we’re waiting for Gram to come get you.”
“Yes, sir!” Tears wet DJ’s eyes, but he saluted me and took off through the swinging door.
Turning toward Jimmy, I found him mute and unmoved.
Yet another asshole dad had created tension in my town—Kurt had triggered Jimmy, and I wasn’t sure what to do.
The desire to be a better man and therapy had helped heal Mr. Henderson and Chaz’s relationship, but if a problem wasn’t openly acknowledged, change wouldn’t happen. The town’s lone accountant was evidence that even the worst people could turn their thoughts around and better themselves. Jimmy’s focus on nurturing DJ like a big brother, showing kindness to a boy who he wasn’t even related to, proved the same.
There was so much more to Jimmy than met the eye, and I yearned to know everything in his heart and mind, learn if I had maybe been wrong in assuming the outcome of getting involved with him.
