Page 19 of Lethal Weakness

“What? Oh my God. I don’t have time for that,” I cry. “If I’m not there on time, they are going to use it against me. They’re going to call me a bad mother.”

“Who?”

“My ex’s parents.”

“Ah,” he says absently. He drops to the rough, graveled ground, shifting until his head is buried beneath my car.

His shirt tightens across his torso as he reaches around for something, and it molds to the muscle he has hidden beneath. He looks a lot more jacked than a car guy should be.

But he doesn’t seem to mind the hard rocks digging into his back, and his clothes are far from clean. My gaze wanders down his stomach and the unmistakable imprint at his waistband.

A gun.

Guns aren’t illegal.

Especially in more rural areas like this. Hell, there are cows in the pastures behind our house. I guess it isn’t odd for a man to be packing.

It doesn’t mean that my defenses don’t go from zero to 60.

He stills suddenly, as if he can hear my thoughts. “Where else have you gone lately? Have you noticed any fuel issues?”

He scoots out from beneath my car, and I back up on instinct. He’s staring at me as he stands up and rights his shirt, but I realize it’s because I haven’t responded and not because he’s about to shoot me.

“I don’t go many places. The farthest I have gone is to the restaurant earlier in Noddingbell and to my in-laws for a party a few weeks ago.”

I don’t know if he is expecting more from me or if he is just thinking hard, because he doesn’t speak for a full minute.

“I think it’s your fuel pump.”

“Okay, how do I fix it? And like now.”

“You can’t. You’ll need to order a new fuel pump.”

“Oh my God,” I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut.

“I can drive you.”

Chapter Seven

O’Connor

Ihad seconds to analyze the situation, the problem, and decide if involving myself further in my neighbor’s business was worth jeopardizing my op.

I decided that it wasn’t.

Yet, here I am, driving into Noddingbell towards the people that I am targeting with a car seat hooked up in my back seat.

And, with Linden Scott in my passenger seat… Shaking like a leaf. I don’t know if I am making her nervous, or if it’s the situation, but I can feel her anxiety through my seat.

“The restaurant is right up here.” She starts taking off her seatbelt before I have the truck stopped and is flying out of the passenger door.

I don’t know why I follow her, but I’m two steps behind her before my brain catches up.

She’s behaving so erratically it’s stirring up my protective instincts. Not the kind I use in my line of work, but the kind of instincts that I’ve long tamped away.

Turmoil rolls in my gut.

“Hi, I was here earlier. I’m here to pick up my daughter from the Scott party. They were seated towards the back.”