Chapter 36
J.T
I’m standing in the principal’s office trying very hard not to lose my temper.
Kelly went with Evan to gather his things from the classroom. The boy had been pale when we arrived, clinging to her like he was half afraid she might disappear if he let go.
He’s steadier now. Still shaken. But okay.
Thank God.
Right now, though? It’s my wife I’m worried about.
Kelly looked terrified when we walked through those school doors. Her hands were shaking when she reached for Evan.
Her eyes were wide and glassy. Like she was still waiting for someone to tell her the whole thing had been a mistake.
And I get it. Hell, my own blood is still running hot thinking about what could have happened.
Principal Jameson is standing behind his desk, looking like he wishes he were anywhere else.
Sheriff Dancy leans against the wall beside the filing cabinets, arms crossed, watching me carefully.
“We’ve searched the property,” the principal says, clearing his throat. “There’s no sign of the individual now. Evan wasn’t able to identify the man since he wore a ski mask, and he didn’t notice any vehicle the stranger might have arrived in.”
My jaw tightens.
Of course not.
Cowards don’t stick around after they’re caught.
I drag a hand across my mouth, forcing myself to stay calm.
“Look,” I say slowly, keeping my voice level. “I understand the school isn’t equipped to deal with something like this.”
The principal nods quickly.
“But we are,” I continue.
“As you know, we are currently in the middle of a custody dispute.”
Sheriff Dancy shifts slightly, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“I’ve already had my attorneys send the relevant court documents to your office,” I go on. “Kelly has been granted sole custody pending the hearing.”
Principal Jameson nods again.
“Yes, Mr. Lawrence—”
“That means,” I cut in, my voice dropping a notch, “no one is authorized to take or remove Evan from this campus unless my wife personally says so.”
I lean forward slightly, planting my hands on the desk.
“Written permission. Verbal confirmation. Direct from her.”
The man swallows.
“If you don’t hear it from Kelly herself, it’s not happening.”
“Of course,” he says quickly. “We always comply with custody agreements.”
His words are polite. Professional. And completely meaningless.
Because someone already tried.
I straighten again. “In the meantime,” I continue, “I’ll be placing a private security detail in the area.”
The principal blinks. “Security?”
“They won’t interfere with the kids,” I say. “They’ll keep their distance. No uniforms. No disruption.”
His mouth tightens. “I don’t think we can have private security operating on campus—”
I don’t even look at him.
My eyes shift to Sheriff Dancy.
“Sheriff,” I say calmly, “you got an issue with that?”
The sheriff studies me for a moment. He knows exactly who I am. And more importantly, he knows exactly how serious I am right now.
“No, Mr. Lawrence,” he says finally. “As long as they don’t step onto school grounds without cause.”
“Fair.”
“And as long as they identify themselves to the Sheriff’s Department and we will notify the school’s front office first.”
“That’ll happen.”
He nods once.
“Then we won’t have a problem, Mr. Lawrence.”
“Good.”
The room goes quiet.
The principal exhales like he’s been holding his breath this entire conversation.
I don’t bother saying anything else. There’s nothing left to discuss. Because right now my priorities are simple.
My wife. Evan. Maddox, too, of course.
My family.
I turn and walk out of the office. Down the hallway toward Evan’s classroom.
And when I see Kelly standing there with her hand resting protectively on Evan’s shoulder, my chest tightens again.
They both look up when I approach.
The tension in Kelly’s shoulders is still there when I reach them. Her hand rests on Evan’s shoulder like she’s making damn sure he’s real.
Like if she lets go he might disappear.
The sight of it punches something straight through my chest.
Evan’s holding his backpack against his stomach, his little fingers twisted tight in the straps. His hair’s a mess from running his hands through it, and his eyes still have that watery shine kids get when they’re trying very hard not to cry.
But he’s standing. He’s breathing. He’s safe.
I force the steel out of my posture before I get the rest of the way to them. No reason the boy needs to see the storm that’s still sitting in my gut.
By the time they both look up at me, I’m smiling.
Not the polite kind I use in meetings.
A real one. The kind I save for her. For them.
“Well,” I say lightly, slipping my hands into my pockets like we’re just three people standing in a hallway instead of the aftermath of a near disaster. “Who wants pizza?”
Evan blinks.
Once.
Twice.
Then his eyebrows lift.
“Pizza?” he asks cautiously.
“Yeah,” I shrug. “Seems like a pizza kind of afternoon.”
Kelly lets out a small breath beside him—half laugh, half relief.
“You think bribery is the solution here?” she asks.
“Not bribery,” I say calmly. “Food to feed the soul Everyone knows pizza is the new chicken soup.”
Evan’s mouth twitches. I crouch down so I’m level with him.
“What do you say, kid?” I ask. “Pepperoni? Sausage? You look like a man who could handle a large.”
That gets a real smile out of him.
“Can we get garlic knots, too?”
“Kid, if you want garlic knots, we’re getting garlic knots.”
He glances up at Kelly.
“Mom?”
She hesitates for half a second, still visibly shaken. Then she nods.
“Pizza sounds perfect.”
“Good,” I say, rising again. “I left your keys with the principal, I’m having someone get your truck and deliver it to the house.”
“Thank you,” Kelly says, and the way she’s looking at me? Like I can right all the wrongs in this world. It’s doing something to me. Settling something wild inside of me.
I nod. And one hand settles on the back of her neck, the other on Evan’s shoulder for a moment. I give both a gentle squeeze before I guide them toward the exit.
“So,” I add casually as we start walking down the hallway, “I heard there’s a place in town that makes a pie big enough to feed a small army.”
Evan perks up.
“Really?”
“Really.”
Kelly walks beside me now, her hand slipping quietly into mine.
Her fingers are still a little cold. I squeeze them gently.
She looks up at me. That fear is still there in her eyes. But it’s fading.
Good.
“Pizza,” she says softly.
“Pizza,” I confirm.
Because right now, after a day like this?
My family deserves something good. Something delicious, familiar, and warm.
They deserve a few minutes where the world doesn’t feel so damn dangerous and we can all just be. I can give them that.
And I will.
Because whoever scared them today?
They’re not getting another chance.