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Oh, here’s an even better question. WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL HIM?
Because you’re a dummy, as Camdyn would say.
I suck in a breath, trying to breathe, but it’s like I’m suffocating. I think I’m having a heart attack. Or anxiety attack. Are they different? Are the symptoms the same? Should I put my arm above my head?
No, no. That’s if you’re choking.
Breathe into a paper bag?
No, that’s for hyperventilating.
I have no air. I have a heartbeat though. It’s angry and pissed off at me.
“Kacy?” Camdyn tugs on my hand beside me. “Are you okay?”
I think I nod, but who knows at this point.
“Daddy? Who is that girl?” Camdyn asks, the very second Barron comes through the door and slams it shut.
He ignores her and places both hands on the counter, hanging his head. Is he mad? Does he hate me? What did she say to him?
All questions I have but I’m not sure I’ll get answers to. I certainly don’t deserve them.
“I’m hungry,” Sev says, petting her cat, who’s on the counter licking frosting from a cookie. And before anyone can stop her, Sev takes the cookie and eats it.
I’m not sure who’s more disgusted—Barron or the cat whose cookie was eaten by the kid.
“I’m taking my kids to my dad’s,” Barron finally says, an edge to his voice I haven’t heard before.
Camdyn’s hands plant on her hips. “I wanna make cookies!” She holds up the antler cookie cutter she dug out when we came inside. “You said we could.”
Barron’s face softens a fraction. “We will tonight.” He leans down and kisses her forehead, and then hands her a coat. “I just need to talk to Kacy, and Nana Lee has a special treat for you.”
“I not wanna treat,” Sev says, flopping herself on the ground at his feet. Her witch’s hat she’s been wearing all morning falls off. “I want cockies.”
I fight the urge to laugh that she said cockies, but restrain myself knowing now is not the time for laughter.
“Cookies!” Camdyn yells back, the tension in the air getting to her.
Sev kicks at her sister. “I say that!” she screams, her screeching cry following.
Everyone is on edge, and the girls are now feeding off it. One crying, one angry at her dad for reasons she doesn’t know. “No! You says cockies. That’s not even a word.”
“Jesus Christ.” Barron groans, running his hands over his face. “Nana Lee has cookies too. Now get up and get your ass into the truck,” he warns, glaring at the girls.
They do as he says, almost immediately. Hell, even I think maybe I should get in the truck.
It’s then he lifts his eyes to mine for the first time since he’s been inside. I gauge his reaction. Waiting. Five feet from him, pressed against the fridge, where he first kissed me. His jaw clenches and his eyes narrow. He steps closer to me, our breathing mixing. “You better be here when I get back. You owe me that much.” His voice is a barely audible hiss, but the warning is there.
Gulp.Literally. I attempt to answer him and almost choke on my own spit. I can’t breathe again. The words dry up. What were they? What was I going to say? That I led him to believe I crashed into his life?
That part wasn’t a lie. I didn’t know where he lived in Amarillo.
That had been fate, hadn’t it?
I open my mouth to reply, then snap it shut again when his eyebrows shoot up in a silent warning—a threat to shut the fuck up.
I watch him leave with the girls, fully prepared for that to be the last time I see them. What if it is? Will he let me say goodbye to them? My stomach free falls to my knees, and I hate that feeling. I don’t even like riding on a roller coaster, so me and this feeling, we don’t like each other. I want to run away, hide from the expression on his face, but I can’t. I did this. I have to face him and explain.