My eyes bulge from the pressure of Chad’s hand across my voice box as he yanks the carrier from my hands. “Two bitches for the price of one.” He laughs as he looks down at the pink blanket hanging off the end of the car seat. “Make that three bitches.”
“I told you not to come here.” Mackenzie scrambles to her feet, backing away from us while glancing to her right and left as if searching for a way out of this mess.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Jake
I kick back in my chair, tossing my feet onto my desk. “Did Mom tell you to call?”
“Of course.” Ivy’s sweet voice holds that typical teenager’s attitude of being put out at having to do something they don’t want to do.
“You don’t have to invite me over.” I bite my bottom lip to keep from grinning. I missed so many years of her life. It’s nice to be back to where I can see her more frequently.
“The invite isn’t for you, or I wouldn’t do it at all. I was busy the other night when Mom watched Grace, so I didn’t get to see her. I want to see Emily and the baby. I’m just putting up with you to get to them. You finally did something smart by getting with Emilly. She’s a great person. I don’t know why you waited so long to do something about it. When she was dating that–”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear it.” I shove my chair backwards, causing it to scrap on the cement. My feet smack on the floor, sending reverberations up my legs.
“Quiet!” Ora spins in her chair while sliding her glasses down her nose.
“Sorry.” I give her my best beseeching look and amble to a standing position. “I’ll take the call in the breakroom.”
“You do that. I’m trying to watch my show.” Her attention returns to the open tablet on her desk. Not that it’s a separateroom, but it’s away from Ora’s desk so our conversation will disrupt her viewing pleasure a little less.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her to pause the show but catch myself before admitting I’m turning into a daytime television junkie. It’s embarrassing.
“Is my brother jealous?” My sister’s voice is more mocking than it started out.
“Damned straight I am. I know I have no right to be. I screwed things up with Emily and took too long explaining myself to her, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear one word about her and anyone else. Ever.” I pop my neck with a audible crack.
“I wonder what happened with that Spencer guy. Is Emily still in contact with him?”
“Ivy,” I growl as the roasted scent of coffee wafts throughout the kitchenette. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to piss me off.”
“I am.” Her laughter fills the air.
I need a fucking cup of coffee. Black coffee. This teaches me not to answer the phone when I’m on break. Now, I only have ten minutes before I need to get back on the streets, and I haven’t eaten. Or called Emily to check on Grace.
I glance at my watch. Five minutes to eat and five minutes to call Emily and check on my girls. Just the thought of them eases the frustration from the day. When I get home, my girls will be waiting. Emily can’t officially move in until my licensing is complete, but she stays several times a week. On the other nights, I’m at her apartment.
“I’ll tell Emily about the invitation. As long as she doesn’t have anything planned and the baby is having a good night, we’ll be there for Sunday dinner. Let Mom know.”
“Look at you. Already wrapped around their fingers. Hannah said she could come too.”
“That’s great. And yes, I’m wrapped around their fingers and proud of it.” Due Hannah’s schedule, I’ve only seen her once since returning to Brookhaven. My phone rings again. “Hey, Tiny Tot, I’ve got to go. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
After Ivy clicks off, I study the number. Probably a spam caller. I deposit my phone on the counter and pour a steaming mug of coffee into a travel cup. The steam wafts above the black container.
The second my phone stops ringing, it starts again. I poke the ignore button and mutter, “There’s too many telemarketers these days.”
“Did you hear that Chad Whitlock got bail?” Chief Carter’s voice comes from behind me.
My heart jumps into my throat as I spin on my heel, sloshing coffee as I go. “What?”
“Chad Whitlock got out on bail this afternoon.”
“No fucking way.” I grind my teeth together. “What in the fuck? The judge knows Chad. How could he give him low bail. He ran from the police, resisted arrest, assaulted a law enforcement officer, and threw a shit-ton of drugs out his window. That’s worth no bail.”
