Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 84344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I tilt my head to the side, not moving from in front of him. “It was,” I confirm, and he looks at me, and my smile mimics his.
“I have never …” He starts to say and then stops talking, not sure if he should continue. My hand comes up to touch his lower lip.
“I have never had a kiss like that,” I start, and he looks at me. “In all my life.” My hand cups his cheek. “I’ve never been kissed like that.”
“Um, thanks,” he says, not sure, and then smirks. “It was.”
“You did good.” I lean in and kiss his lips softly, and the ringing starts again. “I should get that,” I say to him as he kisses my lips again, and he makes me forget it all until the ringing stops for one second and then starts again.
He looks at me worried as I grab the phone out of my back pocket. Looking down, I find Veronica’s number on the display. “Hello,” I say, putting the phone to my ear.
“Um, hi,” she says, her voice going almost to a whisper, and I can tell something is wrong. “Thank God you answered.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask right away, my heart speeding up when I think that one of the kids got hurt. Because that is me. I think of the worst-case scenario, so when she comes at me with something less, it won’t be as bad.
“Maddox is still here,” she says, and I turn my arm to see that it’s six thirty. “We waited twenty minutes in case there was traffic.” The camp has opening hours of eight to six, so no one is rushing to get there by five, especially for the parents who have a longer route to go.
“Did you call the emergency numbers?” I look at Dylan, whose eyebrows are pinched together as he hears the worry in my voice.
“We did,” she confirms. “They are all disconnected.”
I close my eyes now. “Okay, I’m on my way.” I take a deep breath. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” I disconnect the phone and look at Dylan.
“I have to go,” I say, and his arms loosen around me. “One of the kids, his parents didn’t get him.” I look at the phone. “She dropped him off this morning, and she was on something.”
“What do you mean she was on something?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips.
“She was weird, and her eyes were all dilated.” I shrug. “Dumped him there and took off. And she hasn’t picked him up, and the phones are disconnected.”
“Oh my God,” he says, shaking his head. “She sounds like a great parent.”
“We don’t judge,” I remind him. “Everyone has problems.”
“Oh, trust me,” he says. “I’m the last person who judges anyone. I went one week eating peanut butter on toast because we had no money.” My heart sinks when he says that, and I can’t even imagine what he went through. He never really shares that part of his life with anyone. He’ll drop some comments here and there but never anything in depth. “Let’s go.” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the house.
“You can stay here,” I say, and he stops walking.
“If you get there and the mother isn’t there, what are you going to do?” he asks.
“I’m going to drive him home,” I say. “Maybe she couldn’t get to the arena on time.”
“Or maybe she’s sleeping through her bender. Either way, you aren’t going alone.”
“Wow,” I say, opening the passenger door when he walks toward the driver’s side. “You can get more annoying.”
He looks at me and winks. “This is just the beginning.”
Chapter 20
Dylan
“Park there.” She points at the parking spot closest to the door that has a No Parking sign on it.
“Will you get towed?” I look over at her, but she is already out of the car and rushing to walk into the arena.
I get out and follow her, walking in and looking around. I spot the kid right away. He is sitting on the bench in front of the door with his head down. His brown hair shines, and I know it’s because he took a shower. His shoulders are slumped forward like he’s used to being left places and not being picked up, and my feet stop in my tracks when he looks up at me. His brown eyes meet mine, and the look brings me back to when I was seven years old.
“What do you mean they are all disconnected?” I hear Alex talking to a woman, but I just walk past her toward the little boy. He must be scared or, better yet, just numb, and that feeling is even worse than being scared.
“Hey.” I squat down in front of the kid. “I’m Dylan.” He just looks at me, and his arms and legs are skinnier than they should be. “What’s your name?” The look he gives me is a look I’ve seen before. It’s a look that was in my own eyes. Despair.