Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Charlotte
While we’re waiting in line, Lacey confesses that the guy Lucky ran into actually scared her. Apparently he had friends, which would be intimidating for any woman, let alone two unbonded omegas.
Her anxious energy spills into me, and I do my best to stay calm for the both of us. If I panic, she’ll be able to sense it, and we’ll start feeding off each other’s anxiety.
There are run-of-the-mill assholes everywhere.
I’ve been safe in Boston for three years.
There’s no way Blade’s guys caught up to us now. If they did, they never would have let Lacey walk away with Lucky.
I mean, technically they don’t know he exists, but if they saw me with a kid Lucky’s age, they’re probably smart enough to do the math.
I think.
Maybe not.
Outlaw bikers are great at math when it comes to breaking down drugs into little baggies. They’re also smart enough to know when someone shorts them on cash, but none of them knew I was pregnant.
I never told a soul.
There was a reason I left in the dead of night with blood on my hands…
It’s our turn next, and one of the elves comes up, kneeling down in front of Lucky.
“Do you know what you’re going to ask Santa Claus for?” she asks in a chipper voice that makes me jump.
Holy fuck.
Even thinking about that night at the clubhouse is enough to make me climb out of my own skin.
You’re not there, so just move on, I remind myself.
Lucky squeals, clapping as he leans back against my shins. “I do know!”
The elf laughs. “Ahh, good. Santa can’t wait to hear it.”
I stretch a hand down, running it through his soft hair. He’s the one thing I’ve gotten right in my life, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect him.
That being said, there’s nothing to worry about.
If the Jacksonville Demons were here, I’d be dead…
Or wishing I was.
That alone means I’m overreacting by even considering it might be them.
It’s time to shake that shit off.
Adults only love the holidays if someone made that time of the year special when they were little. No one else is going to make this his favorite time of year. It falls on me to spoil him with Christmas magic.
I don’t get to let the fear win when I have him counting on me to keep it together.
The elves wave Lucky forward, and I rip my phone out of my purse.
We have memories to make.
Snapping pictures of Lucky as he sits on Santa’s lap is a nice distraction, but as soon as we exit back into the cool night air, my paranoia reaches unimaginable heights.
I keep my head on a swivel, looking for patches or cuts or even familiar faces. I see none of those three things, but I can’t shake the pit in my stomach. It’s the same feeling that I always try to listen to because the last time I ignored it, I got myself in deep shit.
“Mommy,” Lucky says, tugging on the bottom of my jacket. “Pick me up.” His other hand rubs at his eyes, and I know what that means.
Bending down, I heft him onto my hip. He rests his head on my shoulder, and that alone tells me he’s about done for.
I kiss his temple, rocking back and forth. It’ll be hell if he falls asleep before I get him in his car seat, but it’s instinctual to sway like I did when he was a baby. It’s so infrequent now that he lets me hold him for a snuggle, so I soak it up whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Lacey glances around, checking out the nearby stands, and I’m in a pickle.
My teeth dig into my lower lip.
I’m the one who invited her out. Leaving early isn’t the kind of thing a good friend should do, but I have to call it.
I didn’t bother bringing Lucky’s stroller. The whole idea was that I wanted him to run around and wear himself out. He’s at the stage where he’s either going to get fussy and have a tantrum or fall asleep. Neither option points to a high likelihood of being able to shop and have fun with Lacey.
Now I feel like a shitty person.
She doesn’t have kids. She can’t understand what it’s like to have her activities guided by what kind of mood her child is in.
My phone chimes with what must be a series of social media notifications, but I pull the device out of my purse, pretending to blanch. “Crap, that’s my landlady.”
I step a few feet away, answering the nonexistent call.
My stomach wobbles, and I wonder if I’m making the right choice. No matter how much I wanted to enjoy it, coming out tonight wasn’t a good plan.
Anyone watching my eyes dart around as I fake a conversation with my landlord would probably think I’m on drugs or having a break with reality. Even knowing that, I can’t shake off the feeling that I’m being watched.
Lacey is too distracted waving and smiling at Lucky to pay me much attention, and it makes me feel even more rotten.
I make up a bullshit excuse about having a water leak in my bathroom and ask if she’d like me to drop her off on my way home.
“I’m going to peek at a few of the trinket shops and maybe grab a decaf coffee,” she says, shaking her head.
We chat for another few minutes while I repeatedly try to get her to let me take her home, but Lacey is firm in wanting to stay and shop.
I’m not sure how her head isn’t stuck on the guys she ran into earlier. Maybe that speaks to how trauma can influence a person’s life, even years later.
The world can be an ugly place.
Humanity has bright spots, but it also has monsters that parade around in human skin. Still, I’m not trying to traumatize the poor woman, and she’s an adult. It’s not like I can toss her over my shoulder and force her to leave.
Eventually, I say a reluctant goodbye and bolt toward the parking lot where I left my SUV.
My breath fogs the cool night air as I exhale heavily, picking up my pace. Lucky is asleep, and I do my best not to jostle him, but getting to my SUV is my top priority. Listening to him whine if I wake him up won’t be fun, but it’s better than the alternative.
“Charlotte?” a man’s voice calls out from a few feet to my right.
My feet leave the ground as I jump. Spinning around, I scan the area. Cormac, the guy from the library, strides closer. While I was heading straight to get to the parking lot, he approaches from the sidewalk that runs parallel to the front of the building.
He’s dressed fancier than the times I’ve seen him in the library, and my head tilts. He’s wearing a suit, at least the pants, vest, and tie, but over all of that, he has on a calf-length overcoat.
He looks damn good in the vest and tie, but my mind starts racing. Peeking over my shoulder, I check to see if I’m being followed.
There are a few people headed my way. One set is a couple, leaning close together as they walk. Another is a family with two small kids.
“Aww, did he knock out on you?” Cormac asks, and my head whips back in his direction.
“What are you doing here?” I blurt out, taking a step back.
Fuck.
I hate being suspicious of everything and everyone, but I swear something is off.