My mouth caught up with my runaway thoughts before I could stop myself.
“Oh no, I’m aware that you are most certainly and very much,allwoman.”
There I went taking her breath away again as I heard her gasp. Not wanting her to think about that too much and run from me now that she was letting me in a little, I spoke once more.
“And River?”
“Y-Yes?” she stammered in a hesitant voice.
Damn, I probably scared her and she wasn’t sure of what I was going to say.
“You’re never bothering me. Ever.”
“Thank you,” she told me again before hanging up.
Once the phone disconnected, I slammed my hand on the wheel three times. I’d held back while talking to her but if she had told me to stay clear from Breland, things were not okay; I wanted to rage at the person who hurt that child. Lennon too.
Whoever it was could be added to the list of anyone who’d done something horrible to River.
Protectiveness for all three swam through my veins causing my blood to heat.
My blood reachedthe boiling point the second my eyes landed on the teens.
The kids sat in cheap plastic chairs in the office. Lennon’s arm was around his sister’s shoulder protectively, and his free hand was clenched into a fist. The look on his face clearly showed he was still pissed and hadn’t calmed down. I’d seen his temper but only when he thought he’d been protecting his mother. River’s words came back to me from our conversation in the car.
If he hit someone then whoever it was had to have done something to Breland. She must be so upset.
I knew she was right as I took in Breland’s trembling body and the tears rolling down her sweet, innocent face.
When Lennon noticed me, his body stiffened. Moving to the counter to speak with the middle-aged woman sitting there, who was clearly not paying any attention to the kids— or even me—I announced my arrival.
“I’m here to pick up Lennon and Breland Roberts.”
The woman looked up, almost startled by my presence. I should have felt bad for scaring her but how the hell did you leave someone sitting there looking like Breland did?
“I’ll be taking them home now, whoever needs to speak with their mother can call her and make an appointment.”
She grabbed the phone, sputtering something about how I couldn't do that until I spoke with the principal, but I turned toward the kids paying her no mind. I stopped a footaway from them and was about to say something when a man came in through a side door, clearly agitated at my abrupt arrival.
I didn’t give a shit.
“Mr. Taylor, the children’s mother said you were coming, but we will need to have a discussion before they can leave,” the guy said in an egotistical tone.
I was obviously making assumptions, but one look at Breland and anyone would. He should have been with them trying to make sure she was actually okay.
“As I told the woman at the desk, they’re clearly not in the right place to do that right now; therefore, I’m taking them home. Call their mother to schedule a meeting.”
“That’s not how this works. Lennon punched another student and we don’t condone that type of behavior here at this school.”
“I didn’t catch your name?” I asked.
“Mr. Wilson,” he said.
“Okay, Mr. Wilson, please tell me why Lennon hit this other kid.”
The man’s face turned a slight shade of red, most likely for being questioned, as he fumbled for what to say.
“Well, I don’t know, that was something I was planning on discussing with his mother when she arrived, but she was obviously too busy to?—”
