Madeline’s form against me stilled at the use of the word daughter, but I didn’t stop to think about it.
The boy didn’t seem to be getting the message. “Sir, I just needed to talk to her.”
I growled again, and the boy shifted on his toes, clearly planning on making a run for it. I wanted him to. I wasn't interested in hurting him, not for real, but I would. It would be simple, seeing Madeline so scared against my shoulder.
“Wait, Neal, forget about it. Just let him go.”
The boy nodded frantically, beginning to move away.
“Hey, you.”
He was still again, his body vibrating with the confusion over whether or not he should be running or staying put.
“If I find you anywhere near her, you and I will have business to attend to.”
The boy nodded again.
I grunted, “Get out of here.”
Madeline went limp as we watched the guy hurry around the corner of the building. Distantly, I heard a car start, the sound of the engine piercing the silence between us. Madeline slunk away, her shoulders rolled and defeated as she turned to face me.
“What—” I took a deep breath, my temper spiking under my skin “—precisely were you are thinking?”
Her brows lowered, and I could see that stubborn twist reappear. “What happened to ‘stay away from my daughter’?”
“I meant it. And I believe he’s at fault. But I saw you there, too. I know you were trying to sneak out.”
Madeline huffed, turning away and giving me the literal cold shoulder. She shivered as she did, since her jacket was still inside.
My anger fell away in a wave. “Here.” I slid off my jacket. “Let’s go somewhere warm, and you can tell me what’s really going on.”
“Why would I tell you that?” Her words were sour, but I could hear the shake in her voice.
I shrugged, setting the jacket on her shoulders. “Why not?”
Her fingers darted out, and Madeline gripped the edges, pulling the large jacket around herself. It made her look even smaller and a little pitiful. I sighed, softening even more.
“Let’s go.'' I gestured to the corner of the building, suddenly relieved that we didn’t have to explain to Church that I’d briefly lost Penny’s daughter. We settled into the car, and I waited for her belt to click into place before pulling out of the parking lot. I had a location in mind, but I didn’t need her to know that.
Ten minutes and exactly one temper tantrum later, we were sitting at the best booth in Ruby’s Diner, plastic menus in our hands.
“Are you going to grump at me all night? Or just ignore me?”
Madeline sniffed. “You’re one to talk. You’re grumpy twenty-four-seven.”
“Am not.”
“Are too!”
I grinned at her. “Okay, I’m grumpy, but you’re not ignoring me anymore.”
Madeline huffed, covering her face with the menu as she shifted on the booth. I looked around, spying the petite, curly haired figure chatting in a corner. Ruby had fed me more times than I wanted to admit. When I was in the depths of my attempt to disappear from the universe, I’d been so consumed with my grief, my pain, I'd forgotten to care for myself. She’d let me wash dishes and fed me pancakes when no one else in the world had noticed me.
She was kind and giving.
And this was my first time seeing her in weeks. Since then, I’d been shot. I’d been in a coma. I’d met a woman—the woman. But now I sat here in one of her booths like a real customer, with money in my pocket, clean clothes on my back.
I was damned lucky.
