Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
GRIFFIN
“Keep walking. Do not react.”
Violet’s voice had that clipped, sharp edge, the kind that said I was about five seconds from being murdered in a retail park car park. Which, honestly, wouldn’t be the weirdest place I’d ever gotten into trouble.
I adjusted the bags in my hands, shooting her a sidelong glance. “Care to elaborate, or am I meant to guess?”
She didn’t answer.
Didn’t even look at me.
That was when I knew it was bad.
Violet Carter could argue for Britain, probably had a gold medal in correcting people, and yet she speedwalked across the car park, her head down, putting the wheels on Hazel’s brand-new pram through their paces.
I quickened my pace to keep up, resisting the urge to look around and confirm exactly what had her acting like we were about to be tackled by MI5.
“Princess,” I muttered, voice low. “Try acting like we haven’t just robbed the place, yeah?”
“If I stop moving, I might actually scream,” she said through gritted teeth.
Right. So, totally calm then.
The SUV was just ahead. Jace stood beside it, arms crossed, watching us with the distinct expression of a man deeply regretting his life choices.
I caught up, shifting the weight of the bags. “You wanna tell me what the hell we’re running from, or do I have to guess?”
Violet didn’t answer. Didn’t even blink. Just kept pushing Hazel’s new pram with single-minded determination.
That’s when I spotted him.
A man, mid-forties, standing near the trolley bay, phone in hand, staring straight at us.
My stomach tightened.
Could’ve been a fan. I glanced away before he clocked that I’d seen him. No reaction. No sudden movements. The second you acted guilty, you looked guilty.
“Is he taking photos?” Violet asked, her voice a low hiss.
“Not yet.”
Her grip tightened on the pram.
“Brilliant,” she muttered. “Absolutely bloody brilliant. My father is going to chew me up because I listened to a stupid, arrogant—”
“Hey.”
She side-eyed me, her expression placid while her eyes promised death. “—Pain in the ass driver.”
I clenched my jaw, ignoring the jab even though it landed square. She was acting like I’d masterminded this whole disaster, like I’d somehow forced her into a retail park at gunpoint and made her cart me around the baby aisle. Like this was all me.
Which... to be fair... I had insisted on coming.
Shit.
I, in my infinite wisdom, had strong-armed my way into shopping when I knew better. Because of course Violet had been right.
And now some random bloke might have just got the shot that sent my career into a tailspin.
Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
I huffed a breath, adjusting the bags as we reached the car.
Just get in. Get out. Easy.
The moment we reached the SUV, Violet lifted Hazel from the pram. A perfect performance of a woman who wasn’t currently losing her mind about a potential PR disaster unfolding behind her.
She kept her back to the bloke with the phone, cradling Hazel against her chest, one hand tucked protectively over her tiny head. She climbed into the back seat and got to work settling Hazel in her car seat.
That left me with the pram.
Which should’ve been simple.
It had been designed for people far less competent than me, people who struggled to parallel park, people who fumbled over a seatbelt, people who thought cruise control was advanced driving.
And yet.
I, a man who could control a championship car at ridiculous speeds, was currently losing a battle with a pram.
One-handed fold, they’d said.
Easy, they’d said.
They lied.
I pressed the button.
Nothing.
I pressed it harder.
Still nothing.
Jace turned, one brow raised. “What are you doing?”
I scowled at the pram. “Folding it.”
He leaned against the car, unimpressed. “That’s not what it looks like.”
I ignored him, gripping the handle and pressing the button again. It gave slightly, but the damn thing wouldn’t collapse.
“I’ll do it.” Violet slid out of the car, shaking her head at me.
“Hey!”
I froze.
Jace stilled.
Violet went rigid.
My pulse jumped. The man, the one with the phone, was walking straight toward us, grinning wide, eyes flicking between me and Violet like he’d just won the lottery.
“Holy shit,” he said, breathless. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
I forced a smile, adjusting my posture, already prepping a plan for damage control. “Uh—”
“Oh, man.” He shoved his phone into his pocket as he reached us. “I knew it! I told my mate.” He turned to Violet, beaming. “You’re her, right? That actress?”
Violet blinked. I blinked. Jace coughed, barely containing a laugh.
The guy studied her, excitement faltering. “Wait… oh. Sorry. Thought you were someone else.”
A beat of silence.
Then Violet exhaled, her entire body sagging with relief.
The guy scratched the back of his head, sheepish. “Yeah, I thought you were the actress from Dark Traces.”
I covered my mouth, barely suppressing a laugh.
Jace didn’t bother trying.
Violet looked like she wanted to collapse in the middle of the car park. “Oh my god,” she muttered, turning and climbing into the car without another word.
The guy gave me an awkward nod before wandering off.
I stood there for a second, letting the adrenaline drain out of me.
Jace clapped a hand on my shoulder, grinning. “You were about two seconds from shitting yourself.”
“Piss off,” I muttered, going back to wrestling the pram.
Violet sighed. “You have to press the latch first.”
Right. The latch. That I absolutely knew about and definitely wasn’t discovering in real time.
Jace smirked. “Do you need help?”
I gritted my teeth. “No.”
I found the latch and pressed it and the button at the same time.
The pram gave a jerky shudder and then folded so fast it nearly took my hand off.
I barely managed to yank my fingers away before the whole thing snapped shut like a bear trap.
Jace let out a low whistle. “Graceful.”
I ignored him. I shoved the pram into the boot with more force than necessary and climbed into the passenger seat, slamming the door behind me.
The second Jace pulled out of the car park, Violet turned on me.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“We got away with it, didn’t we?”
“By pure dumb luck!” Her voice climbed. “That man could have been anyone. A journalist, a fan with a camera, someone who actually recognized you!”
“But he didn’t—”
“That’s not the point!” She shifted in her seat to face me properly, eyes blazing. “You put everything at risk because you couldn’t just sit at home and trust me to handle it. You had to make this about you!”
My jaw tightened. “I wanted to be there for my daughter.”
“No, you wanted to feel like you were in control.” She jabbed a finger toward me.
“That’s not—”
My father had spent my childhood treating me like a sponsorship opportunity, not a son. Every decision he made was about what benefited him, not what I needed. I wasn’t doing that to Hazel. I couldn’t be that kind of father. I’d rather lose my seat than become him.
“I needed to be there.” My jaw clenched. “That’s what actual fathers do.”
“Actual fathers don’t risk their daughters—”
“I didn’t risk Hazel. I wore a disguise and bought her a pram. Stop acting like I endangered her life.”
She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “Do whatever you want. You will anyway. Just like every other selfish, reckless driver I’ve ever met.”
I turned back around and stared at the road. Done with this conversation. Done with her acting like I was the problem when all she cared about was keeping Julian happy.