fight back.
“So what do you think, Uncle Ruger?” I asked sweetly. “Is it too much?”
CHAPTER THREE
Despite his earlier breakfast, Noah had no trouble polishing off a full plate of pancakes, two slices of bacon, and a glass of orange juice.
Another growth spurt coming, I realized. That sucked. Seemed like I’d just bought him new clothes a month ago. Every time I caught up, the kid got bigger.
“You done?” I asked him, leaning back in the booth. We’d finished packing an hour ago, at which point Ruger and Horse kicked us out. Apparently we were getting in their way. Ruger handed me two twenties and told me to take Noah out for breakfast down the street, which made sense, given the long car ride ahead of us. I didn’t like taking his money but I had to be practical. I couldn’t afford to waste cash on something as frivolous as eating out.
“Done,” Noah said, grinning at me. God, he was beautiful. His face still held a hint of the softness he’d been born with, but his legs and arms were getting lanky. He liked his hair on the long side, soit hung shaggy around his face and shoulders. Not quite long enough for a ponytail, but close. People told me I should cut it. I figured it should be his choice. When he was older he’d learn all about peer pressure and fitting in. For now I wanted him to enjoy the blissful freedom that comes from not giving a rat’s ass about the world’s opinions.
His skin was light, with a smattering of freckles across his nose and face. Sometimes I caught glimpses of myself or Zach in him, but not often. Noah was his own person, no question of that.
Kind of took after Ruger that way, I mused.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said, dropping some money on the table. I tipped the waitress nearly fifty percent—she seemed overworked, and I knew how that felt. Also, it wasn’t my money.
I texted Ruger as I left, wondering if we’d killed enough time. He replied, telling me to give him another thirty minutes. We didn’t have a park right by our apartment, but there was a lot about three blocks away that Noah liked running around in. I’d heard it used to be a hangout for dealers and users, but a few years back yuppies had started moving into the neighborhood. Now about half of it was a community garden, and the rest was for the kids. Someone had built a wooden swing set. Murals on the sides of the buildings bordering the lot kept the place looking cheerful and bright.
It took us about ten minutes to reach the park, and Noah made the most of his time there. I ran laps with him around the edges, hoping to tire him out. It didn’t work, of course. Then we headed back, popping into a used bookstore on the way to pick out something special for the car ride.
We found Horse, Ruger, and two guys I didn’t recognize on the sidewalk outside the building. The newcomers wore leather vests that read “Devil’s Jacks” across the back. Below that was a picture of a red devil and the word “Nomad.” They were both tall guys, one bulky in a muscular way and the other long and lean in his strength. Both had dark hair. One raised his chin in silent greeting.
The men clearly appreciated my Barbie tank top. They were both attractive, but the tall one was actually almost pretty, he was so cute. He had floppy brown hair and hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. He wore a battered Flogging Molly T-shirt with his faded jeans and leather boots. Both of them looked about my age.
“Hey,” I said, coming up to them, smiling. “You must be Ruger’s friends? Nice to meet you. I’m Sophie. This is my boy, Noah.”
Ruger’s eyes narrowed.
“Go wait in the car,” he said, tossing me his keys.
“Those aren’t my keys. Introduce me to your friends.”
“They’re my keys. Blue rig, right over there,” he told me, nodding toward a large SUV across the street. “Car. Now. Horse is gonna drive yours back to Coeur d’Alene.”
I opened my mouth to argue, just on general principle. Then I
“So what do you think, Uncle Ruger?” I asked sweetly. “Is it too much?”
CHAPTER THREE
Despite his earlier breakfast, Noah had no trouble polishing off a full plate of pancakes, two slices of bacon, and a glass of orange juice.
Another growth spurt coming, I realized. That sucked. Seemed like I’d just bought him new clothes a month ago. Every time I caught up, the kid got bigger.
“You done?” I asked him, leaning back in the booth. We’d finished packing an hour ago, at which point Ruger and Horse kicked us out. Apparently we were getting in their way. Ruger handed me two twenties and told me to take Noah out for breakfast down the street, which made sense, given the long car ride ahead of us. I didn’t like taking his money but I had to be practical. I couldn’t afford to waste cash on something as frivolous as eating out.
“Done,” Noah said, grinning at me. God, he was beautiful. His face still held a hint of the softness he’d been born with, but his legs and arms were getting lanky. He liked his hair on the long side, soit hung shaggy around his face and shoulders. Not quite long enough for a ponytail, but close. People told me I should cut it. I figured it should be his choice. When he was older he’d learn all about peer pressure and fitting in. For now I wanted him to enjoy the blissful freedom that comes from not giving a rat’s ass about the world’s opinions.
His skin was light, with a smattering of freckles across his nose and face. Sometimes I caught glimpses of myself or Zach in him, but not often. Noah was his own person, no question of that.
Kind of took after Ruger that way, I mused.
“Okay, let’s go,” I said, dropping some money on the table. I tipped the waitress nearly fifty percent—she seemed overworked, and I knew how that felt. Also, it wasn’t my money.
I texted Ruger as I left, wondering if we’d killed enough time. He replied, telling me to give him another thirty minutes. We didn’t have a park right by our apartment, but there was a lot about three blocks away that Noah liked running around in. I’d heard it used to be a hangout for dealers and users, but a few years back yuppies had started moving into the neighborhood. Now about half of it was a community garden, and the rest was for the kids. Someone had built a wooden swing set. Murals on the sides of the buildings bordering the lot kept the place looking cheerful and bright.
It took us about ten minutes to reach the park, and Noah made the most of his time there. I ran laps with him around the edges, hoping to tire him out. It didn’t work, of course. Then we headed back, popping into a used bookstore on the way to pick out something special for the car ride.
We found Horse, Ruger, and two guys I didn’t recognize on the sidewalk outside the building. The newcomers wore leather vests that read “Devil’s Jacks” across the back. Below that was a picture of a red devil and the word “Nomad.” They were both tall guys, one bulky in a muscular way and the other long and lean in his strength. Both had dark hair. One raised his chin in silent greeting.
The men clearly appreciated my Barbie tank top. They were both attractive, but the tall one was actually almost pretty, he was so cute. He had floppy brown hair and hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. He wore a battered Flogging Molly T-shirt with his faded jeans and leather boots. Both of them looked about my age.
“Hey,” I said, coming up to them, smiling. “You must be Ruger’s friends? Nice to meet you. I’m Sophie. This is my boy, Noah.”
Ruger’s eyes narrowed.
“Go wait in the car,” he said, tossing me his keys.
“Those aren’t my keys. Introduce me to your friends.”
“They’re my keys. Blue rig, right over there,” he told me, nodding toward a large SUV across the street. “Car. Now. Horse is gonna drive yours back to Coeur d’Alene.”
I opened my mouth to argue, just on general principle. Then I
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