He frowned, his head jerking backward in disbelief.
“You can’t just swoop in and pretend like you give a crap, Jack. Why on earth would you of all people deserve answers from me?”
He made a frustrated noise. “Because you wanted me to drop you off at ahomelessshelter and the side of your face is…” He squeezed the wheel again. “Of course I have questions.”
“Well, can them! I’m not interested in being prodded to satisfy your curiosities like I’m some kind of circus sideshow. You burned our bridges a long time ago. The only reason I’m here right now is I have literallynoother choice.” My voice broke over the last word, but I quickly pulled my composure upright. I continued on my tirade, thankful to have a minute to lash out. How long I dreamed of this. “And I have a little boy back there to take care of. If it were just me—I’d gladly pick the homeless shelter over sitting here with you.” I scoffed and a tear leaked out of my eye. “Butgoodparentsput theirkidsfirst.”
“Damn. Sorry for wondering.”
His sarcastic apology made me roll my eyes yet again. The things I would say if I wasn’t so desperate…
“Look. You hate me. I get it. But, I’m on leave from work right now. I’ll be at Dad’s lake house for a couple days before I have to go back to Nashville. You can stay there. Maybe take some time to figure things out.” He puffed in agitation. “Don’t worry. It’s got three floors and is plenty big enough. We’ll hardly see each other.”
I tucked my arms over my stomach. Why, oh why, was Jack myonlyoption at the moment? We had come full circle and the irony was maddening.
And heartbreaking. So very heartbreaking.
My jaw clenched as I wrestled the anger, resentment, hopelessness—whatever it was—back down into my heart.
“Dad had all his affairs taken care of—down to his cars, furniture, and who is going to dust the house.” More trees dotted the drive as the Chicago metropolitan melted into wealthy suburbs. “John said I’m allowed to take personal items, like photos and old stuff from the attic, so I might venture up there and grab a few things. Otherwise, I don’t have much to do here. I’d rather be at home in Nashville anyway.” He paused before adding, “I’ll do whatever I can to help you and your son, Miranda.”
Your son?
It took all of my strength not to lurch over the console and throttle the man.
How could he say that? Boy, Jack had some nerve. I spoke through a clenched jaw. “His name isKacey.”
“Okay—I’m sorry.”
I almost laughed. Here Jack was.Still usingsorrylike it was a magic band-aid. Wielding the word like a spell that instantaneously healed mortal wounds. If I had a dime for every timeJack has used the wordsorry,I wouldn’t need Nathaniel’s inheritance.
A minute went by. Jack said, “At least humor me a little. Is someone looking for you?”
I shrugged, wanting to deny him information. “No clue.”
“Come on, Miranda. I need to know if you’re in danger.”
“I don’t know!” Stupid tears pushed against my eyes again. I wanted to appear strong, but it was hard when feelings kept squeezing my throat. “I have no idea. He—he might be looking for us. I can’t write off the possibility.”
“So a man—your boyfriend or something.”
“Ex.”
“Fine. Do you think yourexwill come looking for you guys?”
Most likely he was. I just shrugged my shoulders. “Not sure.”
“Hm.” Jack tapped the wheel. “Do you still carry?”
“No.”
I could almost hear him thinking. Jack was going into defender mode. It was one of the reasons I fell in love with the man. But apparently he preferred defending the public—perfect strangers—to doing his actual duties.
So much for Jack’s innate sense of justice and honor.
I tried to call him off the trail. “We are far away. We should be fine now.”
“What's his line of work?”
