by Katie Ruggle
Theo moved away from the open hatch and watched as the kids crowded around the back of the SUV, urging Viggy to jump inside.
“Load.” The word came out too loudly, making the kids and the dog jump and look at him anxiously. Theo gritted his teeth, sucking in a breath through his nose before trying to moderate his tone. “The command is ‘load.’”
The three kids relaxed and returned to their efforts. “Viggy, load!”
Reluctantly, as if Viggy was just as loath to return to the reality of grief and loss as Theo was, Viggy jumped into the rear compartment. One of the twins—Tyson, Theo was fairly certain—lowered the hatch door. The ease with which these children had gotten the dog to relax and play made Theo envious. At the same time it raised a flicker of hope that the dog would someday be the happy, confident Viggy he used to be.
“Thank you.” His words were stiff, but they were lucky he’d managed to say anything at all. Theo felt his lungs tighten. This family—the hot waitress and dog-whispering children and their not-quite-hidden flinches—was starting to wake something inside of him. His emotions were bleeding through the armor he’d built to contain them, and it was making it hard to breathe. He needed to leave.
After a single step toward the driver’s door, he paused. “The stove fire is under control?”
Jules grimaced. “Yes. All that’s left is the cleaning.”
“Have it checked before you try to use it again.” The suggestion came out more as an order, but Jules didn’t look offended. She did appear tired and a little sad as she gave him a forced smile that could have meant anything. Theo was pretty sure it wasn’t the response he wanted, though. “Something could’ve been damaged by the fire, and that thing is ancient. You don’t want to mess around with gas. Have your landlord get it checked.”
“Okay!” Jules held up her hands, palms out, in a gesture of surrender. “I’ll have someone look at it.”
Her promise was too vague to satisfy Theo, but there was nothing he could do except call the stove repairman himself. As much as he wanted to do exactly that, he barely knew this family. They’d never accept his help. With a stiff incline of his head to Jules and her siblings, Theo got into the driver’s seat and started the SUV.
As he eased down the driveway, Theo glanced in the rearview mirror at the family that was watching him leave. He’d expected to feel relief at being away from their agitating presence, but he didn’t.
All he felt was hollow.
* * *
“I like that dog,” Dez said, watching the SUV disappear around the first curve in the driveway.
So had Jules. The dog’s partner was a different story. It wasn’t that she didn’t like him, but “like” was such an inadequate word for what she’d felt. His continued visits to the diner had made most of her initial cop-sighting panic fade. If he’d known what she’d done, what she was hiding, then he’d have arrested her already and the kids would be back with Courtney. Her stomach lurched at the thought.
She’d been shocked to see him in her house, all her fears returning in a crashing wave, and she’d had to shove back the instinctual urge to tackle him and yell at her siblings to run. He’d just been concerned about their oven fire, though. And he’d been worried about her. Contented warmth flowed through her at the thought.
“Jules.” The impatient note in Tio’s voice told her that it wasn’t the first time he’d said her name.
She tore her gaze from the spot where she’d last seen the cop who was a little too fascinating—and around a little too often—for her peace of mind. “Sorry, T. What’s up?”
“Can we go to the library?” he asked. “I’d like to see if someone scanned in an owner’s manual for our stove.”
She nibbled on the inside of her lip as she studied him, her mind working.
“Do you not want me to go to the library?” Tio finally prompted when her silence went on too long.
“No.” She shook off her distracted thoughts. “I mean, I’ll take you. I’m just wondering if it’s irresponsible of me to let you work on the stove. Shouldn’t we have a professional…um, oven person look at it? Like Theo said, gas is nothing to fool around with.”
He gave her a look of mixed condescension and long-suffering patience that sat oddly on his fifteen-year-old face. “I’ll be fine, Jules. I know what I’m doing. At least, I will when I get that manual.” He tilted his head toward the SUV meaningfully.
“Okay.” She headed for the house to grab her keys and lock up, calling over her shoulder, “But if you get blown up, I’m going to be annoyed!”
Sam followed her inside, and she gave him an inquiring look.
“Th-Theo?” he repeated, frowning.
Examining her brother’s extra-tense face, unsure of what, exactly, he was asking her, she said, “The cop who was just here.”
“How d-d-do you know him?”
She grabbed the keys and her purse from the kitchen table they’d found at the thrift store. It was a little small for all of them, and the five chairs didn’t exactly match—either the table or each other—but the set had cost a total of seventeen dollars. With their supply of cash dwindling painfully fast, affordability beat out aesthetics. “I wouldn’t say I know him. He’s at the diner every morning, that’s all.”
“B-but you c-c-call h-him Theo?”
She was still confused. “Yes?”
“Why?”
“Uh…because that’s his name? What else should I call him?”
His fists clenched at his sides. “How ab-b-bout Of-f-ficer? Or G-Guy Who C-C-Can Ar-rest You for K-Kidnapping?”
“Sam.” Her voice was soft, and she resisted the urge to squeeze his arm. As tense as he was, the last thing he’d want was to be touched. “It’s okay. He doesn’t know.”
“M-mayb-b-be.” He closed his eyes for a second as his jaw muscles worked, and she knew he was trying to get his stutter under control. “N-not yet. B-b-but he c-c-could f-find out.”
She stared at him helplessly, unable to deny what he’d said. Theo could find out what she’d done, who they were, everything. “If he does, we’ll run.” It was weak, she knew, but it was all she could say to reassure him.
Sam didn’t look at all reassured. “D-d-d-do you l-like him?”
“What?” The word came out a bit screechy, and she winced inwardly as Sam’s frown deepened. “Of course not. That’d be crazy.”
“It w-w-would be cr-cr-crazy.” His grim tone made her drop her eyes. Maybe she’d thought he was hot, and maybe she’d thought about him a few times—and not in a he-could-arrest-me sort of way—but anyone with a pulse would indulge in a few daydreams when confronted by a man that good-looking. “Th-hat’d b-be b-b-bad, J-Ju.”
“I know.”
“Really b-bad.”
“I know.” Her response was barely more than a sigh as a tiny hope she hadn’t even realized she’d been harboring slipped away. It hit her that this was her life now. Until Dez was eighteen and the threat of Courtney was gone, Jules couldn’t date, couldn’t have any close friends, couldn’t get attached to anyone. If people got close, they’d ask questions. Jules had to be ready to take off at a moment’s notice.
Loneliness crept up her throat, making it tight, but she swallowed the self-pity. It was worth it. Getting the kids away from Courtney was worth the sacrifice. She met Sam’s worried gaze and held it steadily.
“I know, Sam.” No matter how hot and protective and gruffly kind he was, Theo was also a cop, and she was a criminal. Jules had to stay away from him…no matter how hard that may be.
Chapter 10
What was wrong with him? Theo huffed out a humorless laugh as he slid out of his solitary booth and tossed down enough cash to cover the lunch he’d barely touched, plus tip. A better question would be what wasn’t wrong with him, he figured.
Megan lifted her eyebrows as he pas
sed her on the way to the door. To his relief, she wasn’t curious enough about his unusual lunchtime appearance to ask him why he was there. If she had asked, he didn’t have an answer—at least not one he wanted to share.
It was the squirrelly waitress’s fault. He’d gotten used to seeing her every day, but their usual breakfast had been canceled when a traffic stop for a broken taillight turned out to be a wanted meth dealer in a car he’d stolen from his now probably ex-girlfriend.
Jules hadn’t even been working, though, unless she’d been hiding in the kitchen the entire time he was there. That was a definite possibility, since he’d acted like a complete ass every time he saw her. But not seeing her made him cranky—well, crankier than usual—and that made him even more pissed that he was allowing an almost-stranger to determine his mood.
He shoved the door a little too hard as he left the diner. The perfect September weather mocked his bad mood. The sun was a little too bright and cheery, the air just cool enough to feel good against his face. His frown deepening, he shoved on his sunglasses.
A familiar Volkswagen Jetta was parked next to his squad car. It took him a few seconds to remember who the VW’s owner was. When it finally struck him, his step faltered, and he had the cowardly urge to duck back into the diner. It was too late, though. She was already headed his way.
“Hey, Theo.” Sherry Baker, Don’s daughter, attempted a smile, but it collapsed before it was fully formed.
Theo couldn’t even manage that much. Instead he gave her a stiff nod. “Sherry.” That was all he could say. If he tried anything else—an “I’m sorry for your loss,” or even “How are you?”—his guilt and rage would choke him before he could get out more than a word.
Sherry didn’t look offended, though. The last time he’d seen her had been at the funeral, where she’d screamed at him, blaming him for not seeing the signs, not doing anything to stop it. Theo had taken every bit of abuse she’d heaped on him, knowing that he deserved that and more…so much more. Don had been his friend, his mentor, his brother. Theo should’ve known, should’ve at least suspected. What kind of self-involved bubble had he lived in that Don’s misery escaped him so completely?
Except for the downward cast of her mouth, Sherry looked like she always had before. Her blond hair was washed and brushed, pulled back in a neat braid, and her sundress looked new. She appeared like a different person than that pain-wracked mourner at her dad’s funeral.
Now, she just seemed quietly sad. Oddly enough, Theo felt a jolt of envy for that sign of straight-up grief. He wished that was what he felt, rather than this seething mess of angry emotions that was corroding his insides.
“How’s it going?”
How was he supposed to answer that? Quite shittily, thank you for asking. I’ve even managed to fuck up your dad’s dog. How are you? Swallowing the words, Theo twitched one shoulder in a shrug. When Sherry’s mouth flattened, he knew it had come off as callous and uncaring rather than the truth: that he was so locked up by regret he couldn’t even talk to her.
It was Sherry’s turn to offer a jerky nod. “See you around, Theo.”
He watched her go into the diner, his guilt multiplying into a giant churning mass so huge it felt as if his skin couldn’t contain it. Clenching and unclenching his fists as the urge to punch something—or someone—surged through him, he stalked the rest of the way to his squad car and jerked open the door.
His bad day had somehow, magically, become so much worse.
* * *
“Maybe we could be homeschooled?” Ty asked hopefully.
As the five of them stared at the two-story building, a mustard yellow box with just a few narrow windows on each corner, Jules was tempted to agree. Then she thought about the reality of trying to teach her siblings—especially Tio—and she sighed.
“C’mon, y’all.” She shoved the driver’s door open with more confidence than she felt. “Dez, you too.” Even though just a few people were around, and the few extra-early students were headed into the school, Jules didn’t want Dez to be left alone. It was going to be hard enough having them out of her sight for the whole day while they were in school.
Ty groaned, but Tio got out of the backseat more enthusiastically. Sam didn’t say anything, but Jules could feel his tension. If he’d been drawn any tighter, Sam would’ve snapped like an overstressed steel cable. Catching his sleeve—but being careful not to grab his arm—she held him back a few steps, allowing the twins and Dez to walk slightly ahead of them.
“Dennis is good at what he does,” she said very quietly, so that only Sam could hear. “We have new names, new social security numbers, new ages, new lives.”
Sam stared straight ahead, the muscle in his jaw working.
“She won’t find us.” She looked for any sign that her words had reassured him, but his expression hadn’t changed. “If there’s any chance she even has a clue where we are, we’ll run again. I’m sure Dennis has a new-life warranty of some sort.”
It was a sad attempt at a joke, but it made Sam finally meet her eyes. “I’m okay, J-Juju. It’s j-j-just…” He gestured toward the ugly building. “N-n-new school.”
“Oh.” It shouldn’t have been such a surprise that Sam was worried about such a normal thing as his first day at a new school, but it was. They’d been freaking out over getting away and staying away from Courtney so much that Jules had forgotten any other worries existed. “You’ll do great, Sam. All the work will be old hat to you. If anything, you’ll be bored.”
Sam came as close as she’d ever seen to rolling his eyes. “Sure, J-Ju.”
The twins and Dez waited at the main doors for Jules and Sam to catch up. Feeling like a parenting failure, she asked, “Are you nervous about starting school, Ty?”
“Nah.” His shrug was a hair too nonchalant as they passed through the door into the dimness of a hallway. “I’m not scared. Not that excited about getting homework and stuff, but school is school. Kids are kids. Some are nice and some are assholes.”
“Language!”
Tio looked at her seriously. “It is the most appropriate term for some people in our demographic.”
Since she couldn’t really argue with the truth about that, Jules changed the subject. “What about you, T? Any first-day jitters?”
The look her brother gave her was completely uncomprehending. “Why would school make me nervous?” For him, school had always been his safe place.
“Good,” she said, eyeing the sign that pointed toward the office. “That’s…” Her attempt at a pep talk died as they turned the corner.
“Th-there’s one r-r-reason to b-b-be n-nervous about school,” Sam muttered under his breath as they all came to a startled halt—all except for Dez.
“Viggy!” she called, lurching forward. Grabbing a handful of her shirt, Jules caught her little sister just in time.
“Dez! Viggy’s working!” she whispered, her hope of escaping before Theo noticed them dying a quick death. The cop—looking like hot, broody forbidden fruit—was already turning away from Hugh and moving toward them. Viggy was trying to plunge forward to get to Dez, and Theo’s arm strained, his biceps bulging under his uniform shirt, as he held back the dog. Despite her panic, Jules’s attention was caught by the way his sleeve looked on the verge of ripping, as if it was struggling to contain the impressive muscles underneath.
Despite her reluctant fascination, Jules could barely contain the urge to bolt. There were a thousand reasons why Theo might be at the school, reasons that had nothing to do with the fact that Jules was a felon and had kidnapped her siblings and he had discovered these things because he was a cop and solving crimes was what cops did and she was going to spend the rest of her life in prison knowing that she had failed her brothers and sister and—
“J-Juju,” Sam muttered under his breath. “B-b-b-breathe.”
At the reminder, sh
e sucked in oxygen, cringing at the gasping sound she made and hoping Theo hadn’t heard. She already felt like her crimes were tattooed on her forehead; she didn’t need to act any more suspiciously in front of the cop.
Theo stopped a few feet from them, greeting them with a short jerk of his head as he half-wrestled, half-ordered Viggy into a sit. When Dez lurched forward again, jerking against Jules’s hold, Jules realized she still had a grip on the back of her sister’s shirt.
“Dez,” she said, focusing on the girl in front of her so that Theo’s…Theo-ness didn’t take away her ability to speak. “Stop.”
“But I want to pet him.” Viggy’s tail thumped against the floor, as if in approval of that plan.
“He’s on duty.” That deep, clipped voice made the hairs on Jules’s arms stand up straight, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t from fear. “He can’t play with you when he’s on duty. He needs to focus.”
“Oh.” Dez drooped a little, but she didn’t make any additional efforts to get to Viggy.
“What’s he focusing on today?” Jules asked, trying to keep the question light and casual. The tremor in her voice might have ruined the effect she was going for, though.
Theo eyed them, a frown firmly in place, long enough for Jules’s panic to start bubbling over again. She bit the inside of her lip hard to keep from filling the silence. “Looks like a false alarm,” Theo finally answered. “We get those a lot. Kids trying to get a day off of school.”
False alarm, Jules repeated in her head, confused until she remembered what Viggy’s job was. “A bomb threat?” Her voice went a little shrill on the last word. Once again, her paranoia had made her forget that there were other dangers in the world, and she needed to protect her siblings. After all, they were her kids now.
“Happens a lot.” Theo seemed awfully casual for a conversation involving a threat of a bomb. “It’s usually some kid who’s pissed at a teacher or wants a free day.”