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Robbie spun, tucking the knife behind his back. “Oh, who’s this?” he said in the same sing-song voice he’d used earlier.
Charlotte’s blue eyes grew the size of half dollars as she watched the man move toward her.
“No,” Addy shouted.
Why had Charlotte climbed out of that closet? “Go upstairs, sweetheart. Miss Addy is visiting with an old friend.”
Charlotte never took her eyes off Robbie, and in a small quiet voice she said, “But I wanna watch Creampie.”
Addy moved quicker than a cat and put herself between the girl and Robbie. “She’s my neighbor. No need to involve her in this, Robbie.”
He tore his gaze away from Charlotte and looked at Addy, a crazy gleam in his eye. “That wouldn’t be fun, now would it?”
When Lucas got to the arena holding the motor cross races, he got an earful from Chris’ coach and the man’s supercilious attitude pissed him off. He’d already felt bad about Michael being late, but nothing compared to the way Addy had treated him. Like a damn stranger.
He stomped toward the concession stand and got a beer, hoping it would reduce the sting of failure and the stress of driving like a stuntman to the other side of the Mississippi.
After a few sips, he set the beer down. Wasn’t working. His gut still churned with acid.
And his ticker had gotten sucker-punched all over again.
Lucas sank onto a metal bench and plopped earplugs in his ears to protect from all the loud engine revving and feedback from the sound system. Thank God he’d prepared for it after going to Chris’ practice a few nights ago.
He’d just pulled his phone out to check his parents had picked up Charlotte from Addy when he saw his father walk in the arena entrance.
What the hell?
Rising, he made his way down to where his parents stood. “Dad!”
His father turned, tugged on his mother’s arm, and waved.
Lucas jogged down. “What are y’all doing here? Where’s Charlotte?”
His mother looked up from her phone. “You have Charlotte.”
“You didn’t get Michael’s message?”
His mother shook her head, her light brown hair brushing her thin shoulders. “No. You didn’t call us back. We assumed you had her with you.”
“We left a message,” Lucas said, pointing at her phone.
“Well, it’s a new phone,” his mother said, looking down at it with a frown.
“Check it again, Fran,” John Finlay said, tapping one of the icons.
His mother shook her head, made an apologetic face, and handed it to her husband. “I’m no good with these things. They confuse me.”
“Ah, hell, I screwed up,” Lucas breathed, dropping a perfunctory kiss on his mother’s cheek. “I’ll call Addy and tell her it will be a bit longer. You might as well stay.”
His father didn’t look up, just kept pressing buttons and frowning at Fran’s phone.
“Surely she’ll understand,” Fran said, with an encouraging smile. “And at least we’ll get to watch Chris attempt to break his neck.”
Lucas pulled out his own phone and dialed Addy’s number. He knew she wouldn’t be pissed but hated the added complication of dealing with her yet again. He’d told himself if he stayed away from her, his heart could start the healing process. He should have done what his parents had suggested and brought Charlotte with him.
He waited for the call to connect, but it went directly to Addy’s voice mail.
Strange. Addy always had her phone with her, and it was always charged. She’d told him it was one of her protocols for safety.
