Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Her eyes widened. “Oh God. We’re going to be late. I need to call Nolan and Nash. We were supposed to pick them up on the way.”
I stepped back, letting her panic and run to the bathroom to make sure she was presentable. Checking my phone, I found a text that made me smile.
Nash: Some of my teammates are getting pizza before the game. Nolan’s with me. We’ll meet you at the game. Don’t worry. We got cash to get in. Love you, Dad.
Nolan: Love you, Dad.
My family was pretty fucking great.
And I needed to grab a new shirt.
36
SAMANTHA
It’d been a long time since I’d attended an event at Fallen Crest Academy. My old school. We came in for a meeting with the administration when we enrolled Maddy and had a quick tour. They had built a brand new school, with an Olympic-sized pool and state-of-the-art facilities. A new track. A new football field. Tennis courts. A soccer field. The school resembled a small university now, and they charged for it. The place was impressive, but I missed the old school. Somewhat.
When we paid and stepped inside the football stadium, the looks and whispers began almost immediately. People pulled their phones out to take pictures. This was always what it was like going to anything football-related with Mason.
He stepped close to me, his chest brushing the back of my shoulder. “I’ll grab stuff at the concessions if you want to make sure our children are alive and also not killing anyone else’s children?”
I shot him a glare.
He only smiled, moving off. He looked too fucking good in the henley he grabbed on the way out of the door. Then again, Mason always looked good. He only seemed to get better looking as he aged. It wasn’t fair. His broad chest. Chiseled jawline. Slim hips. Those big muscled shoulders. And those green eyes.
He was all mine.
What had he said?
Right. I needed to make sure our children hadn’t killed anyone.
Maddy had let us know during our discussion about why she violated her grounding three times, that she believed she was a sociopath. At first she’d been wavering between psychopath or sociopath, but she’d watched a video on YouTube and drawn her conclusion. She was a sociopath. She promised me one night that she’d use her abilities for good. Like Dexter, without the sibling stuff.
I’d not watched Dexter, so I didn’t know what she meant, and I made a note never to watch it. Though I was sure it was a lovely sitcom.
“Sam?” A woman was coming over.
She looked familiar. Brown hair past her shoulders. She was wearing a Fallen Crest Academy sweatshirt, with their new colors. White and gold. I remember Malinda telling me they’d voted to change their colors. Fallen Crest Public did theirs, and a month later, FCA was doing the same thing.
Lydia. That was her name. She used to be a good friend, until I learned she never had really been a good friend. Her and Jessica. When I dated Jeff. Shit. The memories.
I struggled not to show my surprise. She looked good. A little heavier, but we were all older. Age happened. It was biology. The extra weight looked good on her. She was almost glowing. A button was pinned to her sweatshirt. It was an FCA football player, kneeling and smiling widely.
“Hi, Lydia. Wow. Hello. How are you?”
“I’m good. Wonderful, actually.” She saw I was looking at her pin and beamed, gesturing to it. “My son’s on the team. Number twelve. Patrick Heimler.”
“Mom!”
Hearing Nolan’s voice, I turned to find her darting my way. Her eyes were big, a little dilated, but she got like that when she was having fun. Her cheeks were red and as she hit my side, her hand caught mine. It was clammy.
“Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi.” She tipped her head back, an adorable impish smile on her face.
“Hey, honey.” I hugged her to me before checking her temperature, just to be sure. She felt fine. I ran my hand through her hair, trying to calm it down. It was all frizzy, though Nolan never seemed to care. “Where is your brother and sister?”
She rested the side of her face against my arm, tucking into my side. “I don’t know. They’re here somewhere.” She looked back up, rising to her tiptoes. “You don’t need to worry about them,” she whispered. “Worry about Dad tonight.”
I frowned. She was like this sometimes. My little girl who saw things we didn’t and knew things no one was supposed to. She rested against me again. I threaded my fingers through her hair.
“This is one of yours?” Lydia was smiling at her.
Nolan narrowed her eyes, tilted her head to the side, and her face went blank. She shuffled around, giving Lydia her back. “Mom. I need to show you something.” She pushed me in the direction she’d just come from—where the concessions were and judging by the wave of gold and white, where the FCA people sat.