Page 32 of Single Mom's Undoing

We stop at the first stall and admire the food displays. It doesn’t take long for me to find my favorite combination, but the vendor gives me a creepy look that makes me step back.

“I know you,” he says, narrowing his gaze.

He’s a middle-aged man with a scrawny frame and greying hair, his beady eyes measuring me from head to toe in a manner that makes me feel uncomfortable.

“No, I don’t think so,” I cordially reply.

As if he can sense my anxiety rising, Jace moves closer to my side.

“I’ll have the Buffalo chicken wings,” he tells the vendor, “with a side of cheddar fries, and the Mardi Gras sauce, while you’re at it. Thanks.”

“No, I definitely know you,” the guy insists, ignoring Jace, not taking his eyes off me. “You’re the sister of that guy who drove his car off the Samwell Bridge, the chubby little troublemaker.”

“Excuse me?” I gasp.

He chuckles dryly. “Yeah, my kids told me about you. You ran off the night your brother offed himself.”

“You might want to watch your fucking mouth,” Carter harshly interjects.

“Hey, I’m just saying what I’ve heard,” the man foolishly insists.

My stomach knots and my blood runs cold as I see the darkness creep over Carter’s expression. Before Damon or Jace can stop him, he storms into the stall through the side door and drags the vendor out by the back of his neck.

Gasps and murmurs erupt around us as I glance around to see quite a crowd has gathered.

“Carter don’t—” I try to intervene, but Jace’s hand firmly locks around my wrist.

“Apologize to the lady,” Carter says, pushing the man until he stumbles and falls at my feet, whimpering and quivering like the coward he truly is.

“Listen, man, I didn’t mean to—” the vendor stutters but Carter keeps him down on the ground.

“I could do a hell of a lot worse to get that apology out of you.”

“Carter, please,” I whisper, but he’s not listening.

He’s laser-focused on this man, and Damon and Jace aren’t intervening. Instead, they cast dark warning gazes at the crowd to keep anyone from stepping in. It doesn’t take long for me to realize that the people of this town fear and respect them enough to keep their distance.

What this guy said was just stupid. Judging by the look on his face, he ran his mouth without considering the consequences, not expecting Carter to react the way he did. But Carter isn’t a forgiving man, not where my honor and dignity are concerned.

“Apologize,” he orders the vendor once more.

“Alright, alright!” the man replies and gives me a pleading look. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I really am.”

“That’s more like it,” Carter says and briskly pulls him back to his feet. “Now, get back in your stall and do your fucking job. Keep your half-assed opinions and filthy rumors to yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Move on, folks,” Damon tells the curious onlookers. “Nothing to see here.”

Slowly, the crowd scatters, and people go back to enjoying the fair. But the fleeting looks and the rushed whispers linger. We’ve made quite the impression, yet I can’t fault Carter for reacting the way he did. If anything, I feel vindicated, protected, honored by these men.

“Oh, gosh. Matty,” I gasp and turn around.

Luckily, Matty and Shiloh are still within my line of sight but far enough away that they didn’t hear any of it. They’re too busy watching Axel spin their colorful cotton candy under Jodie’s watchful eye.

“The kids are okay,” Damon says. “Are you?”

I look up at him, then at Carter and Jace. “Yes. Carter, thank you,” I manage. “You didn’t have to?—”