She could have died. Carson’s breath hitched.
Holt could’ve died. Carson looked up at him. “I’m s-sorry. I don’t hate you, an’ I shouldn’t have yelled at you, an’ you were right. I was there at the school. And that fireman yelled at you, cuz you went into the house. Cuz I called you, and you could’ve got killed. Because of me.”
Carson tried not to cry, but the tears kept filling his eyes.
A corner of Holt’s mouth tipped up. “Apology accepted for yelling at me, and I’m glad you don’t hate me.”
Carson held his breath.
“You made a mistake in your choice of a friend and in getting pulled into something wrong, but calling me was the right thing to do. You tried your best to keep Brandon from burning down a house—and I’m very proud of you, Carson.”
Carson could only stare at him, holding the words as tightly as he held Holt’s hand.
A chair squeaked over the floor as O’Keefe pulled it closer. When the big guy sat down, the chair made a groaning noise. “Carson, Josie, my job is to investigate fires. I have a nice long title, but how about you call me Cullen?”
Carson licked his lips. “Can Holt stay?”
“If you’d like.” Cullen stretched his legs out, his hands clasped on his stomach. He looked comfortable, like he was going to watch a football game or something. “I’ve known Holt a while—firefighters and arson investigators run into each other a lot. If you want him to watch your back, I’m good with that.”
With a relieved breath, Carson nodded and then had an awful thought. He’d been a real butthead to Holt. Biting his lip, he turned to look up at the man. “Will you?”
“Of course.” Holt sounded like he still liked Carson. “I wouldn’t have left you at all, but I wanted to get Cullen in here.”
Carson’s breath whuffed out. Okay. Feeling almost brave, he turned to Cullen. “What do you want to know?”
“You know what? Since you and Holt are buddies, I’ll let him ask the questions—and I’ll butt in if he misses something. How’s that?”
Talk to Holt? Yes. “Good. That’s good.”
“First, let’s get you two closer.” Holt dragged Mom’s chair closer to Carson’s.
Right away, she put her arm around him…like the mean detective had told her not to.
Carson’s eyes stung with tears again as he leaned into her.
Holt moved between Carson and the big guy. When he went down on one knee, something inside Carson loosened, because it was the position Holt used when he was showing Carson the cool stuff on a Harley, or when he was giving soccer pointers. His arms lay on his thigh; his hands were loose and relaxed. His gaze met Carson’s, and yeah, this was Holt. All calm and easy.
“Ready?” He lifted an eyebrow and waited for Carson to nod, then half smiled. “Good boy. So I figure I want to hear about the classroom fire first. Why did you guys pick that room?”
Carson leaned his head against his mother’s arm, took a breath, and told him.
* * * * *
He’d talked and talked and talked. Carson’s mouth was dry, and his head buzzed like he had flies in his brain or something. He figured it must be awful late at night. But Holt and Cullen finally said they were done.
As Carson limped out of the ugly-ass room, Mom was holding his hand.
“This way.” Holt put his arm around Carson’s shoulders and guided him forward through the wide room filled with desks, computers, and detectives talking with people.
Shit-buckets. Carson stumbled…because Juan, Ryan, and Yukio were in the room.
Juan was talking to Detective Simonsen. Juan’s tiny mama stood beside the desk, arms crossed over her chest. Her dark eyes looked angry as she stared at the detective.
A different guy detective was with Ryan. Ryan’s mama held his hand. His father’s arm lay along the back of Ryan’s chair.
Carson gave a huff of relief. Ryan’d be okay.
At another desk, Yukio was showing his phone to a woman detective. His parents stood behind him, hands on his shoulders and nodding when he spoke.
As Carson crossed the room, his friends noticed. Guiltily, he cringed when they stared and stared, but then Yukio gestured to his eye. Oh. Right. Carson had a black eye and scrapes and stuff. After a second, his friends nodded to him.
Then, two cops in uniforms hauled in…Brandon. Brandon was fighting, kicking, and calling them ugly names.
Carson wanted to cry when they thumped Brandon roughly into a chair. If Carson hadn’t told…
“Good. They caught him,” Holt said. When he looked down at Carson, the hard look in his eyes went away. “Aw, hell, ace. You know, it’s a tough place to be, torn between a friend and what you know is right. Remember though…starting fires was more important to Brandon than you guys were.”
No, Brandon wasn’t like that. Scowling, Carson started to pull away and winced, because his leg hurt. His shoulder hurt. Everything hurt. Brandon was like that. His “friend” had punched him, kicked him, and would’ve hit him with a shovel if Holt hadn’t come.
Spotting Carson, Brandon half rose, his face filled with hatred. “You fucking pussy. I did it for you. To get back at your father and teach him a lesson. What was your fucking problem?”
“You didn’t do it for me,” Carson said slowly. “You did it because you wanted to set something on fire. And because you couldn’t get to your own dad.”
Brandon scowled. “Yours called you a bastard.”
Everett had. And having his father be a total dick kinda hurt, but it didn’t really matter. Carson shook his head. “I told you I didn’t want you to do anything. Not for me.”
“He’s your father.”
“Nah, he’s just a”—what had Yukio said?—“a sperm donor.”
At Holt’s low laugh, Carson almost smiled. Because he had something Brandon didn’t—something important. And hey, here was a way to make that clear to Holt and Mom without getting all mushy and stuff.
“Like anyone believes that,” Brandon sneered.
“You’re a moron. I don’t need that asshole Everett.” Carson lifted his chin, not daring to look up at the two adults beside him. “I’m getting a better dad.”
This time it was his mother who made a sound—a big ol’ gasp.
Grinning, Carson led his mom and father-to-be out of the room.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Her baby had a talent for soccer, Josie thought, as she sipped her Diet Coke and watched the middle school boys practicing for the upcoming tryouts.
It felt good to get back to doing normal activities after the horrible events of last Thursday. However, normal wouldn’t last long. The principal had talked with the school board yesterday—Monday—and the administration wanted to play hard-ass.
Josie’s mouth compressed. To protect her boy, she’d be a hard-ass right back. She might not be the only one, since Holt was as protective of Carson as she was. She felt a funny quiver in her belly. Every time a law enforcement person had shown up to talk with her son, Holt had been there. Guarding Carson.
He loved her, and he loved Carson. She’d begun to believe in romance and love the way she had when she was young. He was openly spending the nights with her. Last night, when he was working his 24 hours at the firehouse, the evening had felt wrong and flat without him there, discussing the day’s events at supper, reading or watching TV, playing a game with Carson. During the night, she’d reached for him and ended up curled around his pillow. Yes, she missed him.
And loved him. Truly, nothing had been the same since he came into her life.
Wasn’t it funny that, in the middle of winter, she felt as if spring had arrived?
She took another sip of Diet Coke and smiled as Carson took the ball down the field, feinted and dodged around a bigger boy, then shot the ball to Yukio. Her boy was amazing. “Woohoo!”
Recognizing her voice, Carson got a tiny smile, which he couldn’t show, of course, because…hey, it was his mother.
Josi
e grinned, then frowned as someone crowded her on the bleachers. Without looking away from the field, she scooted over a few inches.
“I’ve heard that being ignored by a beautiful woman can destroy a man’s tender psyche. You wouldn’t want to inflict permanent damage, would you, pet?” A sexy, smooth murmur broke her focus on the game.
Her head snapped up, and she turned. “Holt? What are you doing here?” Every cell in her body began to dance and warble happy songs.
“I was checking Stella’s blood pressure, and she said Carson had preseason practice. I wanted to see him when he has enough room to really run.”
“Oh.” The new net in the backyard had been getting a lot of use, but he was right. There wasn’t much space.
“Besides, I missed you.” The dark desire in his voice made her body hum.
“I missed you, too. I think you’ve ruined me for sleeping alone.” Her voice came out grumpier than she wanted.
“I know the feeling. You…” His voice trailed off as his brows drew together. With his hand on the side of her face, he turned her toward him. “You have dark circles under your eyes. You really didn’t sleep well.”
No need to tell him about the nightmares. But the concern in his face said he’d probably already guessed.
She offered a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, you will.” His kiss was warm and possessive. “I’ll be in your bed tonight. If nothing else, I can make sure you’re fucked into exhaustion.”
“Now that’s romantic.”
“No romance tonight, baby.” He bent down and whispered against her lips. “Tonight, we’ll go for raw and dirty.”
A heated flush engulfed her. “Mmm. Okay.” Her voice came out husky.
Smiling slightly, Holt settled closer, putting an arm behind her back as he studied the field. The young players had divided into two teams, some in dark T-shirts, and some in white to tell them apart. After watching a minute, he said, “Our boy’s damn good.”
Josie grinned at the pride in Holt’s expression. “I worry a bit about that. He’s a one-sport kid—he’s not interested in playing anything else.”
“But he loves books, video games, and motorcycles.”
“You males and your bikes.” Carson’d been even more enamored with motorcycles after Holt took him on the Harley.
At her dark look, Holt grinned and added, “And he’s got a beloved cat and good friends. I wouldn’t worry, Josie. He’s amazingly well balanced.”
She sighed. There it was. No great wisdom, nothing she didn’t know, but having someone who loved Carson weigh in? It lightened her worries. “Thanks.”
He must have heard the seriousness of her voice, since he turned to study her. Then, he pulled her against him and kissed the top of her head. “You’re very welcome.”
His voice deepened. “I do require payment for counseling services. Tonight, in fact.”
Even though she elbowed him in the ribs, she knew he wasn’t joking. He’d demand his “payment” in a fashion that’d leave her in a satisfied, near-comatose state in their bed. Of course, as he’d told her before, he was a Dom and he didn’t need excuses to enjoy her whenever he wanted. Why that was so sexy, she didn’t know.
“Did you two have your meeting with the principal?” he asked.
“We did,” she said grimly. “He and the school board insist the boys pay for the broken classroom window. Brandon’s mother will pay for the rest of the classroom since the actual fire was all Brandon’s idea and doing.”
“Sounds fair enough. Why don’t you look happy?”
“The principal wants to suspend the boys, take away their extracurricular sports, and make them do a lot of so-called community service—which seems to amount to free janitorial service. And this will be part of their academic record.”
Holt’s mouth tightened. “That does seem excessive.”
They both watched Carson do a smooth interception and pass to Yukio. Even as Josie cheered, Holt gave a pleased yell, “Way to move, ace!”
Carson turned, and a huge smile appeared on his face before he dashed back into the fray.
Josie’s heart warmed. Oh, she did love this man. Both her men.
Leaning against Holt, she tried to remember what they’d been discussing. The school and Carson. “I agree with putting them to work. The rest—not so much. It’s their first offense. But what really burns me is that the administration isn’t admitting to any fault on their part. And the teacher is still working there.”
Appropriating her diet soda, Holt took a sip before handing it back. “You lost me. What fault?”
She frowned, trying to remember what Carson had told Cullen and Holt in the police station. “Carson told you the science teacher was a jerk who picks on the students, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, from what Carson said—and talking with the other parents—the science teacher, Jorgeson, is cruelly sarcastic, sexually inappropriate, and racist. He stands too close to the girls and touches them. He makes nasty jokes about girls, minorities, and the slower students. Being an intelligent white boy, Carson didn’t have a problem with him—until now—but Juan’s been harassed to the point of tears. Ryan, too, because he’s mouthy.”
Holt frowned. “Didn’t the children complain to the authorities?”
“Oh, did they ever, as did their parents. Unfortunately, Jorgeson has been there a couple of decades and is a respected instructor. The principal didn’t do anything, and since only Jorgeson teaches sixth grade science, the children couldn’t transfer to another class.”
Holt scrubbed his face. “I missed that, maybe because he didn’t pick on Carson.”
“Carson was sticking up for his new friends—and other classmates—in the only way that lay open when the people who should have acted…didn’t.”
“In that light”—Holt’s expression had turned hard—“punishing the kids is wrong.”
“That’s how I feel. The other boys’ parents and I explained it to the principal, but”—anger was a burning knot in her belly—“but he’s not admitting he was wrong and that Jorgeson should be fired. I’m not sure what to do.”
Holt was keeping an eye on the soccer action, and when Carson booted the ball almost to the other end of the field, he yelled, “Great kick!”
Josie hooted her agreement.
For a couple of minutes, Holt was silent. Then he glanced at Josie. “Kids are always recording stuff on their phones. What do you want to bet there are some videos of the teacher in action?”
Josie blinked. “Hmm. Let’s ask Carson.”
“We can have him put the word out that kids with recordings should email me a copy, that I’ll keep the recording, but delete their email off my system. Also, we should have him tell the children not to boast about taking or sharing recordings.”
“What?”
“Classroom recordings in Florida fall into a gray area of the law.” He still looked angry about Jorgeson, but his eyes held a wicked spark. “One that would be difficult to punish.”
“What are you thinking?” She poked a finger in his ribs. “Tell me, oh, Master Crusader.”
“I’ll explain tonight.” He wrapped his hand around hers, removing her finger from his ribs, with an admonishing tsk-tsk. “You know, a naughty submissive might find herself strapped to the spanking bench next Friday.”
Spanking…bench. At the thought, a wave of heat streaked right through her, and another followed when she saw the way he was watching her.
“Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “We’ll start with that.”
Chapter Thirty
On Wednesday evening, they’d eaten late because Josie and Carson apparently liked waiting for Holt to get home from the hospital. His sweet submissive was spoiling him.
Smiling, Holt wiped down the counters while Carson loaded the dishwasher. After a meal of Josie’s shrimp fettuccini, Holt figured he’d better add extra time to his workouts and an extra mile to his morning run. The woman like
d to cook—and he liked to eat. If he didn’t take preventative action, he’d end up too fat to climb a ladder.
“Hey, Poe.” He tossed the cat a piece of leftover shrimp.
As Poe did a perfect two-pawed pounce, Carson laughed—an open happy sound. Almost a week after the house fire, the boy was returning to normal. It helped that Brandon wouldn’t be returning to their middle school.
Holt rinsed out the sponge. Since Josie’d cooked, she didn’t pull cleanup duty and had gone to finish a scene she was working on. Stella’d bailed since she had her church group.
Good. He and Carson could talk without upsetting the ladies. “So, ace, how much grief are you getting in school these days?”
The boy grimaced as he racked plates in the dishwasher. “I guess Mr. Jorgeson knows who tried to burn his room. He marked all my essay answers way down on the last quiz. Yukio got a 60 percent, too. And we’ve always gotten As on our tests before.”
That fucking teacher. Holt managed to smother a growl. “Are you doing okay with your classmates?”
“Kinda. Some of ’em act friendly, like weird friendly, cuz they like that I did illegal stuff, and…” The big brown eyes showed Carson’s confusion.
“And that’s not the kind of person you want for a friend?”
“Yeah.” Carson brightened. “But Yukio wants me to come over on Friday, and his dad’s taking us to that new horror movie. You like horror—you should come. Mom won’t go, that’s for sure.”
Holt tilted his head, realizing he’d acquired a new movie buddy. This parenting job had some good perks. “I’d like that, thanks. Sounds like you haven’t lost your friends over this.”
“Guess not.” Carson snorted. “Maybe. Might only be Ryan, Juan, and Yukio if they suspend us forever.
Damned if he’d let that happen. “Speaking of suspension, my email box is full. I bet I have a bunch of Jorgeson movies.”
Carson grinned. “The guys and I spread the word, and everyone’s sending you their recordings of him being a jerk. What’re you going to do now?”
Beneath the Scars Page 36