Chapter 74
JORDAN
Later that week, I wait in Tate’s car outside Bea’s school.
It’s early April and spring has arrived in Vancouver. The cherry blossoms bloom, the sun shines, and everything has that hopeful sheen to it.
With only a few days until the first round of playoffs, and Darcy and Hayden’s wedding tomorrow, the team has been working hard. Some of the farm team guys we’ve called up needed extra development this afternoon, and I volunteered to pick Bea up so Tate could work with them for an hour longer.
And he trusted me enough to say yes.
The bell rings, the doors open, and kids spill out of the school. The joyful, rambunctious noise of children floats in through the open windows of the car.
I see her before she sees me, carrying her guitar case and looking for Tate’s car. She looks so cute, the guitar case almost the same size as her.
My stomach drops. She’s crying.
In an instant, I’m out of the car, hurrying to her.
I drop to my knees in front of her, searching her tear-streaked face. My heart’s in my throat, and I will do anything, anything, to fix this. “What’s wrong? What’s going on, sweetheart?”
Whoever did this, I’ll kill them.
She takes a shaky breath. “Nothing.”
“Bee.” I take her hands. “Please talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go home.”
What would Tate do? He wouldn’t push her, I don’t think. “Okay. Let’s go home.”
I’m going to give this kid so much ice cream tonight. Anything she wants, anything to make her feel better.
She lets me take her guitar case but it’s light—too light.
“Where’s your guitar?”
Her face crumples again and she looks across the playground. A group of bigger kids plays on the swings. One of them has a skateboard.
My entire body freezes as I spot Bea’s guitar on the ground, the strings broken.
Rage throttles through me, hot, sharp, and furious.
“They took it,” she mumbles, and I could power the entire world with how angry and protective I feel right now.
I close my eyes and take one deep, calming breath so I don’t do something very stupid.
Nope. I’m going to do it anyway.
“Wait here for a second, okay?” I give her a pleasant, neutral smile. “I’ll just be a moment.”
She sniffles and gives me a confused look. “Where are you going?”
“It’s okay.” Concern flashes through her eyes at whatever my smile looks like. “Everything is going to be okay.”
A moment later, I’m standing in front of the group of little shitheads. My heart is pounding, but on the outside, I am cool, giving them my best disinterested bartender stare.
They stop talking, looking up at me while I continue to stare at them. I point at the guitar on the ground.
“Did you do that?” I ask them.
“Fuck off,” one of them says, the one with a skateboard.
My eyebrows go up. I hate this kid. He has an unfortunate rat face.
I lean in, hands on my knees, smiling. To bystanders, it looks like I’m just having a pleasant conversation.
“Listen, you little rat-faced fuck. If no one was watching, I’d take your shitty little poser skateboard and crack it on the ground until it was in pieces.”
The kids stand around, unsure of what to do. They think I’m weird. I don’t care. They fucked with Bea, so they’re going to get this version of me that I didn’t know existed.
“Instead, I’ll tell you this.” Furious anger knots in my stomach at the sneer on his dumb face.
“If you ever touch Bea’s guitar again, if you ever make fun of her or laugh at her or talk to her or even look at her,” I’m inches from his face, “I will find you, break your skateboard, and ruin your life.”
I straighten up with a pretty smile.
“All clear?”
Rat Face mumbles something, his face going red.
“Great,” I chirp. “Have a fantastic day, Rat Face.”
I scoop up Bea’s guitar and carry it back to her like nothing happened. “Let’s go, Bee.”
A bad feeling wavers through me as I realize what I just did. Tate would never do something like this. He’s probably going to be furious. He’s never going to let me pick Bea up again.
Once Bea is safely buckled up in the back seat, I drive away. First stop, ice cream. Second stop, the music store to have her guitar restrung.
“You okay?” I ask her, glancing at her in the rearview mirror.
“Yeah.” She shoots me a big grin. “That was awesome.”