Page 85 of Tanner

Miles answered before he could. “Give us a minute.”

The driver looked between them, took in Savannah crying and Tanner white-knuckling the bags, and muttered something that sounded irritated. He stepped back up onto the bus and turned away.

Tanner let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“Look at me,” Miles said. Tanner almost said no on reflex, but he found himself doing it. Miles held his gaze. “I believe you.”

Tanner frowned. “What?”

“I believe you panicked.” Miles kept his voice low. “I believe you ran because you thought they were coming to take her. I’m not standing here thinking you’ve done something to Savannah. I’m not standing here thinking you’re dangerous to her.”

The station noise carried on around them, but Tanner barely heard it for a second. He’d been so sure an accusation was coming that the lack of it left him off balance. His mouth worked before anything useful formed. “That doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

Tanner looked away and the bus doors blurred and his eyes burned. “You read one letter and now you think you understand.”

“No,” Miles said. “I read the letter and the note you left, and I understood enough to know why you’d do this.”

That note. Heat rose in Tanner’s face. He hadn’t thought about Miles reading it. Not really. He’d only thought about leaving something behind so Mrs. Hemsworth didn’t think the worst about him.

“I shouldn’t have left that.”

Miles didn’t argue. “Maybe not.”

Tanner’s head snapped back around. “That’s helpful.”

“I’m not here to pretend everything you did tonight was a good idea.”

The bluntness of it had Tanner sucking in a breath and staring at Miles.

Miles held the stare. “You scared Savannah. You scared the people who care about you and if you get on that bus and keep running, this will be harder to fix. You know that.”

Savannah shifted in Tanner’s arms and made a tired little sound. Tanner looked down and rubbed her back. Her face was damp and hot against his neck. She was half-asleep now, crying less because she didn’t have much left in her.

He had done that to her.

Miles’ voice softened a fraction. “But I’m still here.”

Tanner’s chest clenched. He tightened his hold on Savannah and looked at the floor between them. The tiles were scuffed gray. Someone had dropped a sugar packet near the leg of the bench and not picked it up. Stupid details were the sort of thing his mind took in.

“If I go back,” he said, and his voice came out rougher than he meant it to, “then what?”

Miles didn’t answer too fast. “Then we deal with what’s actually in front of us.”

“That letter is in front of us.”

“Yeah.”

“It says assessment.”

“I know.”

“It says next steps.”

“I know.”

Tanner laughed but there was no humor in it. “You keep saying that.”