Read Online A Dozen Deadly Roses by Kathy Bennett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kathy Bennett
Tags: Suspense
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some nut stalking me, and tomorrow I face Mac Stryker again.
I’ve got to tell Mac about Donnie, but how? Oh, by the way, partner, I haven’t told you about my son. He’s almost five and he’s your son, too. Or, maybe something like, have you ever thought of having a son? I know just the kid for you.
Jade, you should have tracked Mac down when you found out you were pregnant and told him then, she thought. You’re an idiot. No, you’re not. The man was an alcoholic, and once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. You know better than anyone else what living with a drunk can to do a child. You were protecting your son and, Irish pride or not, you need to continue to protect him. If Mac finds out he’s Donnie’s father he could try to take Donnie away from you. And that can’t happen. Angus is sober only because of Mona. If she leaves, he’ll fail again, he always has. It’s only a matter of time before Mac fails too.
She closed her eyes and listened to the comforting sound of rain collide with her front window. She must have dozed off, because suddenly Donnie was standing next to her, tapping her on the knee.
“Mama, can we go to the park? I want to practice going down the jungle-gym pole, just like the firemans do.”
Jade glanced at her watch. Four o’clock. Then she remembered the rain. “Sweetie, I’m sorry, but it’s too wet and cold outside.”
“Darn,” he said, with a big scowl on his face.
He looks just like Mac, she thought. Somehow, I’ve got to think of a way to tell Mac that Donnie is his son, but not let him get too involved in Donnie’s life.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “Since we can’t go to the park, why don’t we have a picnic on the floor? We’ll get out a blanket, and we’ll spread it out. We can eat off paper plates and I’ll order pizza. There’s root beer in the refrigerator, and while we wait for the pizza, we could make some cupcakes. How does that sound?”
The little boy pursed his lips, thinking over the suggestion carefully. “I guess so. It’s not as good as going to the park.”
“I know, Sweetie, but you can practice your fireman skills getting ready for the picnic. You know, to be a firefighter you have to be strong. Why don’t you see if you can carry the old brown blanket from the linen closet into the living room?”
While Donnie yanked, tugged, and dragged the bulky bedding to the front room, Jade called and ordered a large pizza.
They spread the blanket out and plugged in Donnie’s red and yellow plastic boom box. He ran to his room to retrieve his favorite cassette recording of children’s songs.
“Mama, are we going to make cupcakes now?”
“You bet, and I’m going to need your help. Pull over a kitchen chair to the counter. Did you know that firemen have to learn to cook?”
The little boy shook his head. “How come?” he asked, climbing on the makeshift footstool.
“They take turns fixing the meals for all the other firemen. Okay, now pour the chocolate cake-mix into the bowl, and then we’ll turn on the beaters.”
Jade held the boy’s hand onto the mixer handle while the metal whisks whirred. Donnie giggled with delight. “My hand tickles,” he said.
Suddenly, there was pounding at the door. Startled, Jade pulled the beaters out of the bowl, spattering cake-mix throughout the kitchen and flecking them both with the chocolate goo.
Donnie started to cry, but Jade shushed him. She wiped her hands on a towel and approached the door. There was a second knock.
It was too soon for the pizza. Gripping the gun at her waist underneath her sweater, Jade looked through the peephole. Mac Stryker. What was he doing here? She let out the breath she’d been holding, and opened the door about a foot. His tall frame looked especially large in the heavy sheepskin jacket he wore. Both the coat and his black jeans were dotted with wet spots from
I’ve got to tell Mac about Donnie, but how? Oh, by the way, partner, I haven’t told you about my son. He’s almost five and he’s your son, too. Or, maybe something like, have you ever thought of having a son? I know just the kid for you.
Jade, you should have tracked Mac down when you found out you were pregnant and told him then, she thought. You’re an idiot. No, you’re not. The man was an alcoholic, and once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. You know better than anyone else what living with a drunk can to do a child. You were protecting your son and, Irish pride or not, you need to continue to protect him. If Mac finds out he’s Donnie’s father he could try to take Donnie away from you. And that can’t happen. Angus is sober only because of Mona. If she leaves, he’ll fail again, he always has. It’s only a matter of time before Mac fails too.
She closed her eyes and listened to the comforting sound of rain collide with her front window. She must have dozed off, because suddenly Donnie was standing next to her, tapping her on the knee.
“Mama, can we go to the park? I want to practice going down the jungle-gym pole, just like the firemans do.”
Jade glanced at her watch. Four o’clock. Then she remembered the rain. “Sweetie, I’m sorry, but it’s too wet and cold outside.”
“Darn,” he said, with a big scowl on his face.
He looks just like Mac, she thought. Somehow, I’ve got to think of a way to tell Mac that Donnie is his son, but not let him get too involved in Donnie’s life.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “Since we can’t go to the park, why don’t we have a picnic on the floor? We’ll get out a blanket, and we’ll spread it out. We can eat off paper plates and I’ll order pizza. There’s root beer in the refrigerator, and while we wait for the pizza, we could make some cupcakes. How does that sound?”
The little boy pursed his lips, thinking over the suggestion carefully. “I guess so. It’s not as good as going to the park.”
“I know, Sweetie, but you can practice your fireman skills getting ready for the picnic. You know, to be a firefighter you have to be strong. Why don’t you see if you can carry the old brown blanket from the linen closet into the living room?”
While Donnie yanked, tugged, and dragged the bulky bedding to the front room, Jade called and ordered a large pizza.
They spread the blanket out and plugged in Donnie’s red and yellow plastic boom box. He ran to his room to retrieve his favorite cassette recording of children’s songs.
“Mama, are we going to make cupcakes now?”
“You bet, and I’m going to need your help. Pull over a kitchen chair to the counter. Did you know that firemen have to learn to cook?”
The little boy shook his head. “How come?” he asked, climbing on the makeshift footstool.
“They take turns fixing the meals for all the other firemen. Okay, now pour the chocolate cake-mix into the bowl, and then we’ll turn on the beaters.”
Jade held the boy’s hand onto the mixer handle while the metal whisks whirred. Donnie giggled with delight. “My hand tickles,” he said.
Suddenly, there was pounding at the door. Startled, Jade pulled the beaters out of the bowl, spattering cake-mix throughout the kitchen and flecking them both with the chocolate goo.
Donnie started to cry, but Jade shushed him. She wiped her hands on a towel and approached the door. There was a second knock.
It was too soon for the pizza. Gripping the gun at her waist underneath her sweater, Jade looked through the peephole. Mac Stryker. What was he doing here? She let out the breath she’d been holding, and opened the door about a foot. His tall frame looked especially large in the heavy sheepskin jacket he wore. Both the coat and his black jeans were dotted with wet spots from
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