Page 153 of Eight Years Gone

Colton shrugged. “I’m good.”

Jagger clenched his jaw, growing annoyed. No vacation. Now, no French toast either. Enough was enough. “Go get in my car. The keys are in the bowl.”

Colton shook his head. “I’ll take an Uber.”

“I’m not making a request.”

The kid glared now. “I don’t have to listen to you.”

Jagger rubbed at his jaw, deciding how to play things. Colton had a hell of a chip on his shoulder—similar to the one he’d had before he met Master Isaac. It was doubtful ‘nice’ would get him very far. Kids like Colton didn’t trust ‘nice.’ “Yeah, you do. Grace signed her name to say she’s responsible for you. Plus, there’s the fact that I’m bigger than you.”

Colton yanked the keys out of the bowl. “Whatever, man.”

“And when I get outside, you better be there. If I have to come find you, it’s gonna piss me off.”

Colton muttered something about fucking off under his breath before he slammed the door closed behind him.

Jagger stared up at the ceiling as he blew out a breath. “I think we need a rain check on breakfast.”

Grace hurried over to him, settling her palm on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Jagger.”

“Stop apologizing.” He captured her hands, kissing her knuckles in the way that he liked to do. “Colton and I are going to hang out for a while. We’ll probably be gone for most of the day.”

Grace frowned. “Where are you going?”

“On a field trip.”

Her frown deepened. “What does that mean?”

“It means we’re going to straighten some things out.” He kissed her lips this time. “I need to get dressed before he decides to steal my car.”

He went to the bedroom, pulling on the jeans he’d worn last night, then grabbed fresh socks and a shirt from the drawer. This wasn’t how he’d planned to spend the day, but he was following the hunch he’d toyed with in the wee hours of the morning, deciding that it still felt like a good idea.

He and Colton would come to an understanding before the day’s end.

When he walked back to the kitchen, Grace handed him a cup of coffee in a thermal mug. “Thanks.”

“I can make you guys toast for the road, but something else will take longer.”

He shook his head as he headed to the entryway for his sneakers. “We’ll grab something while we’re out.”

“I can have dinner ready when you get back.” She nibbled her lip. “Most teenagers like lasagna, right?”

“You like lasagna. I like lasagna. He can choke it down for all I care.”

She smiled. “I’ll see what I can do about our reservations and try to get in touch with Jessica, too.”

He put on his jacket, then kissed her again. “I wish I could be here with you for that.”

“I’ll be all right.”

He had no doubt that she would be. Grace had never been anything but strong. But he wanted to offer her support for the undoubtedly hard and awkward conversation she was bound to have. “We’ll be back later. As to whether he’ll be alive, that remains to be seen.”

She grinned. “Alive is always a good thing.”

His mouth met hers again before he opened the door. “I’ll text you when we’re on our way home.”

She stood in the doorway. “Okay.”

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