Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“It sounds like a cult,” she mutters, her opinion of Cerberus only getting worse with every conversation we have.
My jaw clenches, my annoyance growing, but I have to try and see things from her perspective. It’s not unusual for people to see what Cerberus is doing and not consider it strange.
“There were over fifty school shootings last year that resulted in injury or death,” I say, my voice low.
The last thing I want to do is scare the kids. Every child at Cerberus is younger, but I have no doubt the reasoning as to why they are in a protected homeschool program will be explained when they’re old enough.
“Some of the parents were stressing out every morning while getting their kids ready for school. They wondered if when they dropped them off if that would be the last time they saw them.” I swallow, my own emotions threatening to take over. I know it has a lot to do with the three little ones in the car with us. I saw things differently then than I do now. “The kids are socialized. Cerberus isn’t a cult, but safety is always a priority. We do a dangerous job protecting others, and that comes at a price. No one that we come up against is happy that we’re shutting down their businesses. Kidnappers and traffickers hate us, but we can’t let fear control us either, so we protect the people we care about.”
She doesn’t argue with me. If anything, her shoulders relax a little. Maybe she’s finally understanding what Cerberus is all about.
I don’t mention the shooting in Lindell a few months back and how we were unable to protect that community.
Silence fills the inside of the vehicle, but it only lasts for another hour or so before Sutton is wailing, completely over the entire trip and wanting to be released from the restrictive car seat.
Mila, instead of complaining, turns the radio down and starts to sing a lullaby.
I hate that her voice is so damned perfect and hate it even more that it’s exactly what my little girl needs to calm down.
Chapter 16
Mila
“What was that?” I ask, sighing with relief when he takes an exit off the highway and pulls into the parking lot of a hotel.
“Kincaid was right about traveling with small children.”
“I mentioned the issues first,” I say, just so he doesn’t forget that I was right about something.
He’s explained so many things to me today, that I’m starting to get the feeling that he thinks I’m a complete idiot and incapable of raising children.
It started with the corn maze conversation, and then it went into the kids in New Mexico being homeschooled. I could’ve dug my feet in about Jace going to public school, but I’ve always felt like there were better options. I wonder how many parents would pull their kids from public school if they had a chance. I tried not to think about it much because that never would’ve been an option for me with Sutton. I have to work to pay bills, and I’d never be able to afford a private academy where she might’ve been marginally safer. Homeschooling was never an option for me.
He nods instead of arguing with me about my declaration.
When he parks and gets out, he steps back to the rear door, unbuckling a sleepy Sutton. I watch, noticing how unnatural the movements are. I doubt he’s ever dated a woman with kids before. Not that we’re dating, but he has insisted on being a part of her life. I want to climb out and rush over there, but he’s going to have to learn how to do these things.
Instead, I open the door behind me and help Luca out of the car. Jace follows quickly behind, capable of unfastening his own safety belt. The child stretches with his arms over his head as if he’s a seventy-year-old man.
“This is New Mexico?” he asks, his little nose scrunched up in distaste.
“We’re still in Missouri,” I explain, having seen the Kansas City city limit sign not long ago.
I don’t know how Vincent thought we’d make it eighteen hours today, but I figured we’d make it a little further than we did. His tolerance for chatty and unhappy kids must be phenomenally low because the sun is barely starting to set. We got a late start today, but at this rate, we’ll end up taking a damn week like I argued we would earlier.
“Just the big one,” I tell him when he goes around to the back of the vehicle.
As unnatural as he looked pulling Sutton from the vehicle, he doesn’t seem uncomfortable at all now with her on his hip.
I don’t know if she feels comfortable with him or if she’s just too tired to notice that I’m not the one holding her, but it’s cute the way her little head is resting on his shoulder.