Page 120 of Average Joe

“I know.” I refrained from touching his face and brushing his locks aside. “But shouldn’t I have been involved in this decision?”

Joe and Dylan both blurted, “No” in unison.

Then Joe added, “You’re too emotionally involved.”

“I’m his mother.” I aimed my anger and frustration at Joe.

“Exactly.” He reflected my glare with his own.

“And when did you have time to arrange all this behind my back?”

“Mom.” Dylan reached across the table and took my hand, his twice as big as mine. “Don’t be mad. Getting out of town is the best thing for me. I fucked up.” His breath hitched. “Got caught up in Grandpa’s shit. You warned me, and I didn’t listen. I tried to come home, tried to tell you, so many times.”

“You can tell me anything, Dylan. Anything.”

“I didn’t want to see that look on your face, that look you got every time Gramps showed up or called.”

Tears threatened, but I fought them back, my face scrunching. “I just got you home.”

“I promise to call every day.”

I could fight, but even bullheaded me knew Dylan and Joe were right. My son would only be safe outside of Harper’s reach. “When are we leaving?”

Joe piped in, “We need to take off soon.”

“Today?”

“It’s better to have him clear of Seattle before Harper realizes he’s gone.”

“Oh.” The cracks in my chest were audible, my heart splitting, tiny fissures forming. “Okay. I’ll call Lilly. I’m sure she’ll cover my shifts.”

Dylan shot Joe a nervous glance.

Joe nodded.

The little green monster slithered in my belly. Those two shared silent communication after knowing each other all of five minutes. I didn’t love Joe so much at the moment because I knew what that exchange meant. “You don’t want me to go.”

“Harper’s got eyes on you. If he hears you left town, he’ll put two and two together.” Joe scratched his forehead with his thumb and, clearly, he was as uncomfortable with the situation as I. “You need to carry on as usual.”

“If he’s got eyes on me, surely they saw you march Dylan into my house last night.” I was grasping for straws.

“We were careful. Ditched his car first thing. Made sure we weren’t followed. My truck was at the station. Dylan was outta sight the whole ride home. Parked in the garage, brought him through the backyard. Nobody saw a thing.” He shot me a wink. “See, that gate came in handy for something.”

“God, this sucks!”

“I’ll give you two some time.” Joe pushed from the table and stood. His gaze sliced to Dylan. “Head on over to my place when you’re ready.”

Joe sauntered to the back door, his jeans hugging his ass and thighs, those thick-soled boots adding an edge to his already daunting form. He stopped, turned, hit me with warm, inviting eyes, and waited.

Did he want me to thank him? Was he expecting a grand send-off? A kiss goodbye?

I had nothing to give. Dylan was home. Mere hours were not enough to make up for our lost time. Every emotion, every smile, laugh, tear, spoken word, every single ounce of energy were for my son.

Joe dropped his head, nodding, and left.

“What do you need for your trip?” I fought a lip quiver to no avail.

“Joe and Frank helped me grab all I needed from my apartment last night.”

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