I’m touched by his concern, and a little surprised, honestly. I thought Dean only ever cared about…Dean. Although, to be fair, I guess I haven’t really interacted with him much as an adult, and I’m mostly basing all of my judgments off him from when we were teenagers—a time when most people are known to be thoughtful, caring, and considerate. (Ha.) “I’m fine,” I return, a little flustered by the attention. “It really wasn’t?—”
Dean whirls to face Thad. “How could you let this happen?”
“He didn’t let it happen,” I interrupt before Thad can speak up for himself—presuming that he would. I’m not sure he fully believes it wasn’t his fault. “He stopped it from happening—and he’s why I’m here now, talking to you.”
Dean paces the room, running an anxious hand through his hair. “How did you know I was here, anyway? I’ve covered my tracks so carefully.”
“Aunt Linda’s credit card,” I tell him, and can’t help but add, “Seriously, Dean? Letting Aunt Linda fund your getaway?”
“Mom’s paying her back,” Dean grumbles under his breath, though at least he has the good grace to look chagrined.
“And who’s paying Mom back? You realize that’s her retirement fund you’re taking?”
Thad clears his throat, stepping in between us with his hands raised. “These are all good conversations to haveafterwe’ve remanded Dean to the authorities. For all we know, whoever took that picture on the boat followed us here.”
Dean’s eyes widen. “Shit.” He grabs a duffel bag on the sofa and begins hastily shoving things into it. “We have to go.”
I watch him incredulously. “Go where?”
“Somewhere that’s not here. I ditched them once—I can do it again.”
“With what money?” I demand. “Mom’s not an endless bank vault, you know. Especially after she has to pay your bond for skipping out on your bail.”
Dean casts me an irritated look. “I know. That’s why I came here—to win enough money to pay her back and get us to Mexico.”
“That’s why you bought the tickets for the Carolina Belle. To win enough money to pay off your bond.” I can hardly process how shortsighted and ill-conceived andDeanthe whole thing is. “Do you realize how stupid that is, Dean? Gamble what little money you have to try to get more money, when you’re way more likely to lose it all and dig yourself into an even bigger hole?—”
I could keep going with this all day. It’s like all of my many years of pent-up irritation at Dean’s carelessness has finally found an outlet. But Thad holds up a hand, his brow furrowed as he studies Dean. “Us?” he repeats.
It takes me a moment to follow what’s happening. Dean said he was trying to win enough money to getusto Mexico. And unless he’s started to refer to himself in the third-person plural…
The door to the bathroom opens, and a tentative head sticks out. “Dean?” asks a young, frightened voice.
Dean’s face immediately softens. “It’s okay, Molly. You can come out.”
Chapter 41
Helen
Molly is young, but not quite as young as her voice sounds. It would put her in her early twenties, but she also might just have one of those faces that will always look a little childish, with her big brown eyes and round cheeks.
Molly is also very, very pregnant. Like, ready-to-pop-at-any-moment pregnant.
I stare at her, then at Dean, my eyes widening. I don’t know whether I should be aghast or thrilled at this development. Aghast because Dean can barely take care of himself, much less a partner and child. Thrilled because…a baby! A little niece or nephew to cuddle and buy cute baby clothes, and honestly, Dean might have been a pain in my butt when we were children but even I have to admit he was thecutestlittle thing…
Molly must read at least some of what’s on my face because she shakes her head. “It isn’t his.”
“Itismine,” Dean protests, putting a protective hand on her belly. “I don’t care whose DNA is in that baby. I’m gonna take care of both of you.”
“Whose baby is it?” I ask, a growing sense of dread filling me at Dean’s bravado and the haunted look on Molly’s face.
Dean locks eyes with Thad, as if it’s easier to explain things to him. “You know Eddie Cadorna?”
Thad swears, running a hand over his face. He looks to Molly, putting two and two together. “That’s his?—?”
“Yeah,” Dean confirms grimly.
“And you?”
