Page 35 of Lethal Weakness

“Why aren’t you wearing your fucking seatbelt?”

“Wha– What?”

“This is a terrible place to stop!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose! My car just died!”

“You should have coasted further!”

“I tried! I couldn’t go,” my voice cracks on the last word, and his head drops to his chest.

“Go get in my truck,” his voice sounds like gravel.

“But, Avery.”

“I’ll get her. Go,” he demands roughly.

I should refuse. I should insist that I get her myself, but he came to our rescue when no one else would have bothered, and I’m too rattled to handle this alone.

He watches me with intense eyes as I shuffle out of my seat, continuously scanning the roadway for oncoming cars as he opens the back door to unbuckle Avery’s car seat. His attention bounces back to me every few beats even when I’m safely beside his truck.

Within seconds, he’s lifting her out, somehow still harnessed and sound asleep. He carries her to his truck, where I’m waiting with the back door open.

“Get in. Buckle your seatbelt,” he demands again, making me flinch, and I can’t understand why he’s being so curt.

I still don’t get in my seat until he has her tucked safely inside, and he just shakes his head angrily.

“What about my car?” I ask once he’s behind the wheel.

“I’ll take care of it once I get you guys home,” he states grumpily.

“Why are you so mad at me?”

“I’m not.”

“You seem mad.” The type of mad that puts a pit in my stomach.

He jerks his wheel, pulling back onto the roadway and leaving my car behind, and me wondering why he came if it put him out so bad.

“I can call a tow truck when we get better reception,” I insist.

“No, I’ll take care of it.”

“I don’t need your help if you’re just going to act like a jerk,” my voice breaks.

He sighs and stares vacantly out the windshield to the road ahead of us for several achingly long minutes. “I apologize,” he utters sincerely.

“I don’t handle it very well when someone is angry with me. Especially if I don’t know the reason.”

His knuckles turn white as he grips his steering wheel, and I can’t take my eyes off them. He’s still angry… I just don’t understand why.

He notices where my attention is, and his hands loosen immediately.

“My parents died in a car accident. A roadside accident,” he admits softly.

“Oh, Jack. I’m so sorry,” I murmur.

Now the nausea in my stomach is there for an entirely different reason. I haven’t gotten to visit my parents in years, but I can’t imagine if they were both gone.