Adult Supervision Required: A romantic comedy

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Adult Supervision Required: A romantic comedy Page 16

by Sarah Peis


  “I knew the kids loved their new play equipment, but I didn’t realize you were so fond of it as well.”

  “It’s a pretty good tree house,” I said, eying Sebastian.

  “Glad you like it, baby,” he said.

  Ha, I knew it. He was the one who’d upgraded my backyard. “Did you put all the new stuff in my yard?” I asked.

  “You said you wished you could give the kids a swing because they love it so much at the park.”

  I’d mentioned it once, in passing, because I was too lazy to walk across the road. And he’d gone out and put a playground in my backyard.

  “Oh hell no,” Stella said. “You’re giving him the smoldering eyes. I’m out of here.”

  I waved to her, my eyes never leaving Sebastian’s. As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, I lunged at him and he caught me in a tight embrace. My legs were suspended off the floor, my arms locked tight around his neck, as our mouths met in a bone-melting, spine-tingling kiss.

  He dragged me to the bedroom and then spent the rest of the night making sure I knew what I’d be missing out on if I didn’t give him a second chance.

  Good thing he didn’t know I’d already forgiven him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “When I was a lizard, I climbed up the wall and sat on the roof,” Luca said, his hand on my cheek to make sure I was listening.

  “When were you a lizard?” I asked, my attention on my son.

  “Last weekend,” he said, the earnestness on his face adorable.

  We were in the backyard, Lena playing with Stella in the sandpit, Luca sitting with me on the grass. We’d been playing Go Fish when he dropped his cards to tell me a story that included him being a lizard.

  A loud knock sounded on the front door, interrupting our conversation. I looked at Stella, who narrowed her eyes.

  “I’ll have a look at what’s going on,” I said, getting back to my feet. “You good with the kids?”

  “Of course. But maybe take the bat with you,” she said, pointing to the baseball bat lying next to our blanket.

  No way would I take a bat with me, so I waved her off and made my way inside and to the front door. A look outside made me wish I had, in fact, taken the bat with me.

  I ripped the door open, interrupting Jim mid-knock.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, my lips thin, my nostrils flaring like an angry bull about to charge. The thought of doing exactly that didn’t sound like a bad idea at the moment.

  “I need to talk to you,” he said, then pushed past me and inside the house. “You’re in danger.”

  “No kidding,” I grumbled and watched him walk into the living room. I turned back to the road, wondering where Gears was. No way would he just let Jim come up to the front door.

  When I saw no sign of him, I followed my ex, who was making himself right at home. “Jim, you need to leave. You can’t be here.”

  He was pacing, his movements jerky, his hair a mess, his clothes wrinkled and dirty. “You need to pack a bag and come with me.”

  I looked at the ceiling, praying for patience. “No way. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  Not liking my response, he grabbed my arm, pulling hard.

  “Everything okay?” Stella called out from the back door, and Jim released me.

  I stuck my head in the hallway and asked her, “Can you take the kids to get ice cream? Jim is here.”

  Her eyes bugged out of her head and she took a step inside. I shook my head, and she nodded before going back outside.

  I knew I could count on Stella to take the kids out the side gate so they wouldn’t see Jim. One crisis averted, I turned back to the bane of my existence.

  “Leave,” I said, pointing to the door.

  “Are you mad at me?” he asked, brows furrowed.

  I prayed for patience and non-murderous thoughts to survive this conversation. “Of course I’m not mad. Why would I be mad about you owing a motorcycle club money and getting me caught up in your mess? And let’s not forgot the money you stole from me. In case you missed it, we’re not together anymore, so my money is not yours.”

  Surely nobody would notice if I hid his body in the backyard.

  “Whoa,” he said, putting his hands up. “I didn’t intend for them to come after you. And looks to me like they made themselves right at home here. Maybe I should be the one who’s mad.”

  “What did you think would happen? They would just ask nicely for their money back? And since you have no say over who I spend my time with, you also have no right to be mad.”

  What a selfish banana sucker.

  “Of course not. But I didn’t know they even knew about you. That’s why I’m here now. To rescue you.”

  I put my hands on my hips, needing something to hold on to or risk punching him in his smug face. “You led them straight to me when you showed up at my house. Of all the stupid things you’ve done in your life, that one was the most selfish. The last person I need to rescue me is you.”

  Useless cumbubble.

  “I didn’t think they were still following me,” he responded, showing me his annoying dimple.

  “Did you ever think about how much danger you put your kids in?”

  I didn’t think the bumhole could sink any further in my opinion of him. But he just managed to go from a zero to a minus three thousand.

  “That’s why I’m here now. To get you far away from them.” He put his hand out, and I flinched back.

  This shitlicker can’t be for real.

  “So you come back weeks later? After they could have done God knows what to me?” I yelled, hands balled into fists. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

  He stepped back, eyes wide. “Whoa, why are you so angry?”

  What. The. Fudge.

  “Get out,” I shrieked, my body vibrating with fury.

  He shook his head but retreated farther. “Fine. But just for the record, I think you’re being unreasonable. And I tried to help.”

  “Out,” I screamed, my voice too shrill for my own ears. He was never good with confrontation, and I knew he’d leave.

  Jim opened his mouth in a last effort to plead his case. He’d never known when it was time to quit.

  He didn’t get a chance to say a word, because in that moment all hell broke loose.

  The front door smashed open, and men in balaclava masks appeared from all directions. “Police, get down on the floor.”

  I stood frozen, hoping this was all just a figment of my imagination. Jim was taken down in a full-body tackle, landing with a crunch on the ground. I watched with wide eyes as men streamed into my little house, holding guns and yelling.

  When I didn’t move fast enough, I found myself crushed to the ground as well, my landing somewhat softer than Jim’s but still leaving me breathless from the impact. “Put your hands behind your back,” someone instructed.

  I complied, my brain not able to comprehend what was going on. The same person who cuffed me lifted me back to my feet and led me out of the house. I prayed Stella didn’t show up with the kids and they’d see me like this.

  “I don’t ever want to see you again,” I whisper-hissed at Jim. “This is by far the worst thing you could have done to me, you selfish twatwaffle.”

  What if they arrested me? I had to take care of my kids, not hang out at the police station. And I didn’t even know if they would charge me with anything. Was I helping a criminal when I let him into my house?

  “Ms. Lindberg?” A guy came up to us, his attention on me.

  “Yes?” I answered, glad my voice sounded steady.

  “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to come to the station with us. You’re not under arrest, but we need to talk to you.”

  I blinked at him, not wanting to piss him off but also not wanting to go to the station. “Can’t you talk to me here?”

  “We’d rather you come to the station.”

  I didn’t think I had a choice and relented. The movies alway
s said to cooperate or look guilty. “Fine. But I need to make a call to make sure my kids are okay first.”

  He took the cuffs off me and opened the door of an unmarked police car. “Of course. You can call them on the way.”

  “I need my cell. My friend’s number’s in it.”

  He helped me into the car and leaned down. “I’ll get it for you if you tell me where it is.”

  “It’s on the kitchen table,” I said, and he closed the door.

  The officer came back with my phone a few minutes later. He got into the driver seat and handed it back to me.

  “Thank you,” I said, pulling up Stella’s number.

  I prayed she had her phone with her.

  “Nora, hey,” she answered, breathless. “Is it safe to come back yet?”

  “Not yet. Can you keep the kids for a few hours?”

  There was silence before Stella came back on. “If you’re in trouble, cough once. If you just want some alone time with your hot guy, make a kissing sound.”

  “I wish it was one of the two. But I’m on my way to the police station.”

  “Did you finally murder the bastard?”

  “Unfortunately, he’s still alive. But they want to ask me a few questions and are taking me to the station with them.”

  Probably shouldn’t be saying that too loudly while I was in a police car.

  “Do you need a lawyer?”

  That was a good question. And one I didn’t have an answer to yet. I didn’t want to look guilty because I immediately lawyered up. But I also didn’t want them to pin something on me.

  “I don’t know yet,” I said, my voice sounding small.

  “Call me if you do and I’ll mobilize Malena.”

  My mouth curved into a half-smile. The last person I wanted to rile up over what was hopefully nothing was Malena. I didn’t know anyone with half a brain who wasn’t scared of her when she went into lawyer mode.

  “Thank you, honey. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve a friend like you.”

  “Call me if you need a lift.”

  “I will.” I hung up and slid my phone in my pocket.

  We made it to the station a few minutes later. When we walked inside, it hit me that I was in a police station, about to be interrogated. It didn’t matter that they called it a conversation; they wanted me at the station for a reason, and I doubted it was for a casual chat.

  As soon as I took one step into the interrogation room, all my earlier bravado disappeared, and I felt as if my breath had solidified in my throat. The officer hadn’t spoken another word since getting my phone for me, and the silence grew tight with tension.

  He led me to a chair, and after I sat down, he left. I perched on the edge, body coiled tight and ready for flight.

  The door opened what seemed like hours later, and I jumped at the sound. I wiped my clammy hands on my pants and willed my pounding heart to slow down. They’d take one look at me and think I was guilty without even having talked to me.

  “Ms. Lindberg,” a tall, lanky guy with short-cropped dark hair greeted me.

  He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, his badge clipped to his belt. I guessed him to be in his thirties.

  “My name is Agent Cody Jenkins and I work for the federal bureau of investigation.” He sat down opposite me, putting a thick folder on the table.

  Why is the FBI involved in this? What exactly has Jim been up to?

  I watched him open the file and read over it, shifting in my chair when the silence stretched again. Maybe he was here to intimidate me after all.

  “What is your relationship with Jim Turner?” he asked, and I sighed in relief. I’d been one nervous inhale from passing out.

  Okay, that was an easy question I should be able to answer without making them think I was a criminal.

  “We used to be in a relationship, and he’s the father of my children.”

  More silence, the sound of more pages turning. “When did your relationship end?”

  “Two years ago.”

  “Isn’t your daughter only two?”

  I clasped my hands in my lap, then released them again. “He took off before she was born.”

  He looked at me for the first time since coming into the room, his gray eyes wandering over my face. “Have you spoken to him since you broke up?”

  I put my hands on the table, palms down. “A few times.”

  “What about?”

  “Child support. Visitation. The Darth Vader helmet he left at my house and I sold on eBay.”

  Agent Jenkins tilted his head, looking more interested than before. “Why did you break up?”

  I hugged my arms around my body. “Various reasons.”

  “I need more than that,” he said, his focus now solely on me, papers lying forgotten on the table.

  “I don’t see how that’s relevant,” I said, not wanting to dig up things I’d rather forget.

  “It is very relevant since I need to know if you parted on good terms and would be willing to help him move drugs.”

  “Drugs? Is that what you arrested him for?”

  Why am I not surprised?

  “Among other things. Now, if you’d please answer the question.”

  I looked at my lap, hoping this would all be over soon. “He stuck his wick in someone who wasn’t me on our coffee table and then took off with all our money.”

  Money I’d worked hard for. Money I needed so I could take a few weeks off after Lena’s birth. Money that made the difference between us having a roof over our head and living on the street.

  I’d been lucky I had my virtual assistant job already back then and could keep working. It was hell on earth working with a newborn and toddler in the house, but we made it out the other side. And now it had all happened again and I only had myself to blame. At least this time he didn’t take all my money.

  “If you think I’d ever help that sorry mother puffer, you’re delusional. I hate him with the heat of a thousand suns and hope he burns in hell,” I said, looking directly at Agent Jenkins.

  “Is there any record of Mr. Turner moving out?” he asked, not impressed by my passionate declaration.

  “My name was the only one on the lease.”

  Something that should have made me realize right away that he didn’t plan on sticking around, even back then. But he said it was easier that way. Of course it was if he was planning on leaving all along.

  “But if you want to check my story, look up his marriage certificate. He got married three weeks after he left me.”

  It was also three days before Lena’s birth. I didn’t find out until almost a year later, when I finally tracked him down and his wife answered the phone. She didn’t even know I existed. They didn’t last, and I couldn’t say I didn’t feel some sense of satisfaction when I heard she left him for someone else.

  “I think that’s all I need for now. Don’t leave the state, and be available in case we need you to come back in.”

  I stood up when he did, holding back the urge to roll my eyes. Where did he think I would go? I had about a hundred dollars in my bank account and two small kids. Not exactly the ideal setup for a quick getaway.

  “Of course,” I said instead.

  The officer from earlier was waiting outside the door and escorted me through the busy station. My eyes flitted around the space, taking in the chaos surrounding me.

  My attention was diverted to the far end of the room and to three men who were involved in a scuffle.

  “Let me the fuck go,” a familiar voice shouted over the noise.

  Every eye in the room turned to Sebastian, who was held back by two police officers who weren’t going to be able to contain him for much longer.

  “Sebastian,” I gasped, slack-jawed, staring at him.

  His head snapped up and his eyes found mine, holding me captive. My steps faltered and I stopped, not caring whose way I was blocking.

  No way was he able to hear me, but as much as I was drawn to him, he s
eemed to know when I was in the room. He pushed at his arm, and the officer to his left lost his grip. As soon as one of his arms was free, Sebastian easily stepped out of the other officer’s hold.

  Not wasting any time, Sebastian rushed to where I was still standing, blinking at him like an owl. He crushed me to him in a tight embrace once I was within reach, the air in my lungs escaping in a wheeze. But I didn’t care, holding him just as tightly.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked once he loosened his arms. He was still holding me close, but I could look at him if I tilted my head back, which I did as soon as I was able to.

  “I heard they brought you in,” he growled, looking unhappy about this latest development.

  “I had to answer a few questions, but they let me go again,” I said, putting my hand on his cheek, needing to feel him.

  He closed his eyes when I made contact, leaning into my touch. He turned his head and kissed my palm, making it tingle.

  “Agent York,” someone barked next to us. “Can you explain to me why one of the officers has a sprained ankle and the other what appears to be a bruise on his jaw?”

  Sebastian sighed and turned to the voice, tugging me into his side.

  “You didn’t tell me you were going to take her in. And those two idiots had it coming. I told them to let me go,” he said.

  “I’m your boss. I don’t have to justify my actions to you. Now unhand the girl and get your ass into my office.”

  I recognized that voice. It was the other guy I didn’t know talking in Smitty’s office when I overheard them. And Sebastian was somehow connected to him.

  This day just keeps getting better and better. What’s next? A unicorn taking a shit in my front yard?

  “Ms. Lindberg, everything okay?” the officer accompanying me asked, watching the scene play out with interest, just like the rest of the office.

  “I’m fine,” I said, stepping out of Sebastian’s warm hold. He seemed ready to pull me back to him but was interrupted by another reprimand.

  “Agent York,” angry guy hissed. “Get. Your. Ass. Into. My. Office.”

  And that was when it clicked. Agent York. That had to be Sebastian. He told me his last name was Jones. But I guess he couldn’t have used his real name while he was undercover. I wondered if his first name was Sebastian or if that had been a lie too.

 

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