Seventeen
“…should never treat their mother the terrible way you’ve all treated me, especially you, Felicity.
Putting handcuffs on your poor mother’s wrists—and too tightly!
You know I bruise easily. And you, Charlotte…
” Jane shook her head sadly. “You used to be such a sweet girl. I don’t know where I went wrong with all of you, to raise such vicious and ungrateful daughters. ”
“Mm-hmm,” Charlie said absently, craning to look over Kieran’s shoulder at the traffic in front of them—the very slow traffic.
Jane had been going on in the same vipers-in-her-bosom way for hours, and her monologue had turned into white noise in Charlie’s brain by the time they’d gotten ten minutes out of Simpson. “Is traffic stopped up there?”
Jane abruptly broke off, a tiny smile touching her lips. “Oh dear,” she said with patently false concern. “We only have fifteen minutes. There’s no way we’ll make it in time.”
Rolling her eyes, Charlie yanked open her door as soon as the car came to a complete stop. “We have eighteen minutes, and that’s plenty of time if we run there.” She hoped. They were six blocks from the courthouse. “C’mon, Fifi. Let’s put our cardiovascular fitness to the test. You too, Kieran.”
She scooted out, pulling Jane with her, and Fifi helped by pushing from the other side.
Jane squawked. “There’s no way I can run the whole way. I have asthma.”
“No, you don’t.” Charlie barely waited for Fifi and Kieran to join them on the sidewalk before taking off at a fast jog. “Norah has asthma. You’re just lazy unless there’s something sparkly at the finish line. Let’s go. Pretend cops are chasing you.”
She and Fifi bracketed their mom, each holding an upper arm and sweeping her along with them despite her reluctance.
Without even checking, Charlie knew Kieran was close behind, guarding her back as usual.
She felt the same spreading warmth in her chest, a sensation that was getting more and more familiar the longer she knew Kieran.
They dodged around slower pedestrians and strollers, crossing the street against the light and getting honked at.
Charlie gave the irritated motorist an apologetic wave but didn’t slow down.
A small dog on a leash darted toward them, yapping excitedly, and Charlie jumped the furry hurdle easily.
Her lungs were starting to heave with the effort of keeping up her speed, but she ignored the discomfort and ran even faster.
Jane tried to lag behind, but she couldn’t slow down without being dragged along, so she ran between them with a sour look on her face.
“Aren’t you grateful for all the sprints I made you do?” Fifi asked, not even sounding winded.
“I’m always…grateful for you…Fifi.” Charlie couldn’t hide the way she was sucking air, and Fifi tsked.
“Sounds like we need to up our training—maybe sprints while carrying each other?” Fifi mused like the evil torturer she was. “That’d be handy in an emergency.”
“I can teach you some of our firefighter training drills,” Kieran offered.
If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with running and not crashing into any innocent bystanders, Charlie would’ve shot him a glare. He’d promised to keep his mouth shut about that. Fifi didn’t need any encouragement or new torture methods.
Apparently, Fifi didn’t agree, since she literally squealed with excitement. “That would be wonderful! Thank you, Kieran!”
Charlie scowled, but she couldn’t hold it, since she was trying very hard to breathe and because they’d actually reached the courthouse steps. “Time?”
“We have thirteen and a half minutes,” Kieran reported as they ran toward the doors.
“Hang on a sec,” Charlie gasped as she grabbed a handcuff key from her pocket.
She unlocked Jane’s cuffs, and then they were moving again, towing her through the doors and into line for the metal detector.
The security guards didn’t bat an eye at their red faces or labored breathing—well, Charlie’s labored breathing—so she assumed they had a lot of people hurrying to make it on time to court.
She dumped the cuffs into a tray before dashing through the metal detector, dragging Jane after her.
Jane glanced over her shoulder, her expression set in the sedate lines that Charlie recognized right away. Jane was plotting something, and that was never good.
“Do not,” Charlie bit out. “You have used up all my patience—every single drop. If you try any kind of nonsense, I’m going to let security drag you into court, and then you’re on your own. Or you can come quietly, behave, and things might just work out better than you expect.”
Jane flashed her a resentful glare but stepped quietly through the detector, with Fifi and Kieran right behind.
“You found her!” Molly crowed from where she stood next to one of the courtroom doors, waving them toward her. Cara and Norah waved as well, jumping up and down as if greeting them at the airport after a long absence.
“When have we ever failed you?” Charlie asked.
“Well, there was that time—”
“Zip it.” Charlie gave her sister a fake glare, too happy to see her to make a real attempt at it. “Or we won’t show you the present we brought you.”
“Mom’s not enough of a present?”
“Nope.” Charlie couldn’t hold back a grin. “We’re that good. Kieran?”
He grabbed the back of his sweatshirt and yanked it off. “Is he the present?” Molly asked. “Because although I appreciate the thought, Carmondy might have feelings about—ohhh!” She broke off as Cara and Norah gasped out loud.
Jane swore under her breath.
As Kieran posed like a surly model, the diamond necklace around his neck caught the florescent light and reflected it back a thousand times brighter. Reaching up, he undid the clasp and let it slide off his neck.
Charlie couldn’t stop grinning. “Think the judge will give Jane a deal if she returns the necklace and says that Zach Fridley forced her to help him steal it?”
“But—” Jane started protesting as she reached toward the necklace.
Fifi smacked her hand. “Nope. Not yours. Never was. Get in that courtroom and get our house back. And you’re going to be signing the title over to us.”
When Jane’s lip curled, Norah stepped forward. “No. You’re going to do it, or we won’t offer to take responsibility for you. Sign over the house that we paid for and get cushy house arrest, or get sent to a dirty, crowded prison. You pick.”
“You go, Norah,” Charlie crowed.
“Fine,” Jane snarled.
“Great.” Molly smiled broadly. “Then let’s get in there. It’s time for court.”