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Rushing back over to where I abandoned our shopping, I frown when I see two security staff approaching.
“Is there a problem here?” one asks, looking just as bored as the cashier had. The same little prick who’s now sitting up straight, arms crossed with a look on his face that says he thinks he found one of America’s most wanted.If he only knew.
“He rushed off without paying.” He points at me.
“And without my groceries,” I add, gesturing to the brown paper bag where I left it. Giving no further explanation, I reluctantly release Mary, take out my wallet, and grab a few twenties to toss on the counter. “My daughter ran off,” I explain to security. Thankfully, he seems more understanding than the kid.
The same man who spoke up when they first arrived nods. “Ahh, I have two myself. All sorted.” He smiles when his coworker passes me my change.
“All sorted,” I agree, curling my fingers around the few notes and coins. The cashier nods toward a tip jar at the edge of his counter.
He’s fucking joking, right?
I give him a look that says just that and shove my fist into my pants pocket, tucking away my change.
“Hand please, Piglet. Little girls who rush off don’t get to roam freely,” I remind her. With the bag secured in my left arm, I offer Mary my right.
Security chuckles at the pout she gives me. Their hushed words reach me as we turn to leave.
“Don’t press that security button again unless you actually need security. Last warning.”
With Mary’s hand in mine, I scan the crowd as we head out, but I can’t see the couple anywhere. The grip on my chest loosens more and more the closer we get to the exit. That is until the one person in the world determined to give me a heart attack decides that today is the day that I have it.
Bored with just holding my hand, Mary starts bouncing her rubber ball. Catching it clumsily, she bounces it again and again. The exit is only a few steps away when she pitches it a little too hard, the angle all wrong, and instead of coming back up to her, the ball scampers off. Bouncing right out of the building.
A jostle to my shoulder from someone entering through the exit door is all it takes. One minute I’m holding my daughter’s hand, the anxiety is leaving my body, and the next, Mary is rushing after her damnball, squeezing through the small cracks in the crowd like only a small child can.
Panicked, I try to follow, but there are just too many people.
“Mary!”
A tight fist closes over my heart, and I can’t breathe.
“Mary!”
I shove through the crowd, people huffing as I push them out of the way. Then I hear it . . . a small scream of pain, followed by my daughter’s cries.
I’m going to kill someone. Whoever it is, is a dead man.
I’m gasping, unable to breathe by the time I lay eyes on my sweet girl. Sitting on the cold floor, Mary hiccups, her tears not stopping. Blood rushes to my ears as I run the short distance that separates us.
A woman is crouched in front of my daughter. Okay, so I’m killing a woman today.Won’t be the first.
Barely a few steps away now, the woman’s words hit me. “Shhh, that’s okay, sweetie. It’s just a scrape.” Her voice is sweet and calm, with a husk that sends a shiver running down my back.
Mary sniffles, and they both lean in, wanting a better look at Mary’s bent leg. My eyes follow theirs. My daughter’s flowery denim overalls have a large tear. Her knee is grazed, and it looks sore, with blood trickling from the wound.
My heart gives another sharp squeeze.
“Mary Lou!” I snap, my worry escaping as angerand frustration. Both girls jump, and two sets of startled, wide eyes snap to me—one brown, one blue. One terrified, one guilty.
The woman shuffles closer to Mary. As if I’m not standing above them furious, Mary gives her new friend a small smile and then looks at her knee again. The woman, however, remains tense. Her brown eyes might be back on Mary and her head tucked down, but I see how she turns her ear toward me when I take a final step.
She’s ready to fight . . . for a child she just met.
Raising an eyebrow, I stay silent, swallowing the urge to apologize. Since when the fuck do I do that? Especially when I’ve done nothing wrong.
Mary ran off, and this woman hurt her,I remind myself.But I don’t want them to be afraid.
