Page 88 of Sterling Clay

It’s also well past the time I would be home, making dinner for the three of us.

We’d settle onto the couch for episodes of Princess Power we’d seen a hundred times or maybe watch the new horse program Clay found as Dutton’s newfound interest leans toward wanting a horse of his own. We’d fall into the routine of getting Dutton ready for bed, tucking him in, and then maybe resettle on the couch for some adult time together. Or we’d head to Clay’s bed and—

“I’ll order something,” Darren huffs, typing away at his phone.

“Why don’t you just let us go?” I haven’t tried pleading with him yet, knowing a man like Darren needs time, not pressure, to make a decision. Especially as he doesn’t appear to have thought anything through. If he wanted to disappear with us, we’d still be on the road. If he wanted only Dutton, I’d have been ditched, or worse. And if he wanted to go back to Florida, and the club, we’d be heading south by now.

“What’s the plan here?” I snap.

“Don’t ask.” His dark beady eyes narrow at me.

“Because you don’t know,” I argue, knowing I’m pushing him.

“Shut it, Mavis.”

When my sister and I were teens, Darren was in his twenties, and I might have talked back to him then, telling him to make me shut up. Knowing he couldn’t touch me because of Dad. But at some point, once we aged, Darren thought he’d get away with fooling around with Cecelia. Her body and her emotions. Then again, with Cecilia in her late twenties when she made the mistake of getting involved with Darren, they were both consenting adults. Being pregnant when she turned thirty wasn’t how she saw the next decade of her life going. At thirty-one, her life was cut short.

Many in the club blamed Darren. My parents had. I certainly did. And I wanted him to disappear again, like he’d been missing for the last six years.

Within forty minutes, greasy fast food that I wouldn’t typically feed Dutton arrives. He balks at the burger, dripping with ketchup and mustard.

Darren points a French fry at Dutton. “Eat the meat, boy, so you grow up big and strong.”

Dutton bends his thin arm, attempting to make a muscle when there is hardly a bulge. “I’m already strong. Clay tells me all the time.”

My brows lift. I don’t recall Clay saying such a thing but then again Clay is always complimenting Dutton. Telling him how smart he is with his schoolwork. Telling him he can be anything he wants to be, even a Power Princess. Clay doesn’t stifle who Dutton is, because he’s six. And Clay cares about Dutton. I see it in the way he watches him, marveling at him. I hear it in the way he talks to him, like he’s not only a child, but a person with thoughts and ideas, feelings and emotions.

“That your man now?” Darren’s eyes lift, locking on mine.

“Yes.” I don’t want to put Clay in any danger as I don’t know who Darren is working with, if anyone. But I also want him to understand something. “His brother is the local sheriff, and considering we should be home by now, he’ll be looking for us.”

The warning is a shot fired. Our absence is not going to go unnoticed.

“You should have stayed in Florida.”

“I felt safer here.” Until this moment.

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. The idea of keeping my enemies close meant Wesley might be drawn back to Sterling Falls. Darren was the last person I expected to lure to this small town.

“That old man of yours was worthless.”

“Daddy?” How dare Darren speak about a senior member of his former club like that?

“Wesley.”

How does Darren know about Wesley? Darren was long gone around the time my sister’s death happened, and Wesley came into the picture for me.

“Have you been following us?” My brows heavy cinch.

Darren tips his chin at Dutton. “He’s my—”

As Dutton and I are sharing a chair, I cover his ears, like Darren is about to swear in front of a six-year-old. His intended statement is worse than any cursing.

Dutton is not Darren’s. He’s mine.

Darren drops another fry from his fingers and sits back, narrowing his eyes at me.

“He’s my son.” I lower my hands from Dutton’s ears. “You have no claim on him.”