Awaken to Danger (11 page)

the weight of the mint of silver chains hanging off them. "Too bad we don't have four cans of that flat-fix-it

stuff."

"It's okay, really. My ride's on the way. And honestly, I think my tires are beyond any can of foam

repair."

"This really blows." Dyed black hair, long on one side, hung over his face in a greasy curtain. "When I

find out who did this to you, he won't be bothering you no more."

"Anymore. And thank you. That's sweet of you to worry, but once the school checks surveillance video

footage, they'll probably be able to nail the person responsible."

He went stock-still. Too still. "They have cameras out here?"

"Yes, Billy Wade, they do." God, she hated suspecting him of doing anything illegal, but Reis's suspicions

still rolled through her mind.

"I could, uh, just give you a ride, you know. My dad's track might not look like much, but it runs real

good and has four full tires."

"Your dad's truck looks a lot like my father's Ford."

"Really?" The teen's mask of bored insolence slid away for a rare second. "Your old man drives a beater,

too? I wouldn'ta guessed we had anything in common."

He stepped closer. Too close. Into her personal space.

Okay, uncomfortable moment. Step back, keep her composure and take heart in knowing those

surveillance cameras would show she hadn't made a single improper move with this kid. Although it

saddened her heart that the days had long passed when a teacher could even pat a student on the back.

A few pervs had ruined it for everyone else.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Thank you for the offer, but I have a ride on the way."

"That him?" Billy Wade pointed to the turn lane. And Carson's sparkling truck. That sure wasn't her

brother behind the wheel.

Oh boy. Her mama was gonna have some explaining to do. Except that would necessitate showing how

much it bothered her that Carson was the one picking her up instead of Chris, and in the middle of all

those muddled emotions she was so darn relieved to see Carson driving their way. Four slashed tires,

close on the heels of Agent Reis's warning really gave her the creeps.

"I can see why you'd rather go with him." Billy Wade's face returned to surly, a cover for insecurity—she

was pretty sure.

The impulse to assert she and Carson were just friends bubbled up, then fizzed in light of better sense.

Letting Billy Wade and any other boys around here think she and Carson were dating would work to her

advantage. She wasn't much older than these students, so erecting boundaries was all the more

important. "Thanks for hanging out to help."

"Sure. Whatever. Nothing else to do."

Billy Wade ambled over toward his father's rusted-out truck, chains on his saggy black pants jangling

with each heavy step. He really was a sharp kid with a good heart, and a very real chance of landing in

jail someday like his brothers.

Carson's truck shooshed to a stop beside her, hunky fly-boy behind the wheel in a navy-blue

windbreaker for sailing and a smile that turned her heart over faster than that big cylinder engine of his.

"I hear you need a lift."

She turned her back on Billy Wade and the new host of worries she couldn't do anything about today.

Her eyes slid from Carson's chest to his scowl—directed right at Billy Wade as the teen continued his

badass strut right past his truck and melded into the smoking cluster of other in-school-suspension

students.

Nikki circled around to the passenger side and stepped up inside, supple leather warming her. Heated

seats? An awesome feature she hadn't been able to afford in her little econo-truck currently on its way to

a garage for a set of tires she was hard-pressed to finance. "You can wipe that disapproving look off

your face."

Scowl showing no signs of fading, Carson eased his foot off the brake. "He's twice your size and a thug.

This so-called 'look on my face' is totally justified."

"Appearances are deceiving." She instinctively defended her student as Carson drove from the lot. "He's

a kid who's had a tough start and doesn't stand a chance at making anything of his life if he doesn't get

extra help. It's frighteningly easy for a child with problems or special needs to go unnoticed."

He went silent at that for two traffic lights, stopped at the next before turning to her. "What happened to

make him fall behind?"

"Dyslexia, which is especially tough to diagnose in a kid with a gifted IQ. He's smart, really smart, which

helped him skate by for years with average grades. Add frequent military moves into the mix and it was

easy for him to fall through the cracks."

"He's a genius with some kind of disability?"

"It's not as unlikely as you would think. One in three mentally gifted children has some kind of learning

disability. The numbers could actually be higher since it's easy for schools to miss out on diagnosing the

gifted dyslexic, especially when they're surprised a kid from his background is even passing at all."

"I wouldn't have thought about it that way. It sucks to think how many students could get lost in the

system based on misconceptions."

He was being more insightful on the subject than she'd expected. Perhaps she'd been a little quick to

judge him based on his silver-spoon background. "There are complexities to the levels and every dyslexic

student is different. Basically, we figure out ways to send the information through another channel of the

brain, usually a multisensory approach."

"For example?" he asked, seeming genuinely interested rather than merely making polite conversation.

That was more enticing than a surprise peek at his pecs. Well, almost.

"I have younger students trace spelling words in corn meal with a finger."

"Why not have all students do it that way? Sounds a helluva lot more fun than gripping a pencil until your

fingers go numb."

"I agree."

He flashed a killer smile her way, sun reflecting off his aviator shades, darn near blinding her with the

vibrancy. "Where were you when I was drilling spelling words? Wait." He thumped his head. "You

weren't born yet."

"Are we beating that dead horse today?"

"With your vintage music fixation and my tapioca pudding, maybe we're not so far apart in age after all.

Something dangerous fluttered to life in her empty stomach. "Took you long enough to figure that one

out."

"Too late, I'm guessing."

Was he regretting that? Hinting for something now? And sheesh, but she hated how even thinking it

flipped her hungry stomach around. Not gonna go that route again. "Seems so."

"At least I can take comfort in knowing I'm not a COG."

"COG?"

"Creepy Old Guy."

Not by a long shot. She chewed the lip gloss off her suddenly aching lips. "Thanks for the ride and for

showing up so soon, but where's Chris?"

"I was at your mother's when you called so I offered to come instead rather than waste time trying to

track down your brother."

"Oh." That threw her for a second. Her stomach was in serious peril. "Uh, why? Anything wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

So why had he been there? She waited. And waited. "Thanks for coming out."

"Good thing, too. Probably didn't hurt for those students to see a man in your life."

"This is not your problem."

"I'm a male. I can't ignore it."

"I'm careful. I'm never alone with a student. Teachers are given training on just this subject for our

protection and the students'. That's a part of why I always tutor on school property."

"All right. But I'm still picking you up until we find out what went on with Owens."

How silly to argue. She'd had the same concerns today. Her mother was confined to the house. Her

brother was in and out of town visiting his girlfriend during college winter break.

And she couldn't hide from the truth. She wanted to be around Carson if for no other reason than to

figure out a way to forget him as completely as she'd forgotten that night last week. "Since I don't have

tires, I gratefully accept. For now."

"Thank you. And you'll be careful around that kid you're tutoring?"

Of course she would, but wondered at Carson's continued insistence. "You don't trust anyone, do you?"

"This isn't about me."

"I think it just became about you." She hitched a knee up to turn and face him even as he kept his eyes

forward on the road. "You say you want to apologize, and sure you're helping. But I'm still confused.

Can we only relate if things are about me? When does it become about you, too? Otherwise this is a

one-sided, um, friendship—" yeah, friendship was a good word "—that's not fair to either of us."

His hands tightened around the wheel and she thought for a while he would simply keep driving until he

whipped into the next turn. At a fast-food parking lot?

He threw the truck in park and turned to face her. "My parents were drug addicts."

Huh? That was a little more than she'd expected. She was thinking more along the lines of... What? She

didn't know much of anything about him, and she wouldn't know more if she didn't unglue her tongue

from the roof of her mouth and participate in this conversation. "I thought you said you had a privileged

upbringing."

"I said my family has money."

"Guess I'm just as guilty of making character assumptions as you were with 'Thug.'" She couldn't stop

herself from placing a sympathetic hand on his forearm. "I'm sorry—for the assumption and for how

difficult your childhood must have been."

His quick nod offered his only acknowledgment of her empathy. With a brief squeeze of comfort she

took her hand back, the heat of him tingling through her veins until she clenched her fist to hold on to the

sensation. Already she could piece together parts he'd left unsaid, how no one thought to suspect

anything, which left Carson and his sister unprotected.

Carson cut a quick glance over. "You can ease up a little on the sympathy. My sister and I went to great

schools, and thank God for the nannies or things would have been a helluva lot worse."

"Somehow I think it was plenty bad enough." She shuffled this new image of Carson around in her mind

and couldn't help but soften. "Where are your parents now?"

"Dad almost died of an overdose about two years ago." He recited the information in emotionless

monotones. "Some thought that would scare him clean, he even tried. They've both been in and out of

rehab clinics a dozen times and it never seemed to stick. Bottom line, I don't think either of them wants to

change."

The resigned acceptance in his voice stabbed through her.

He kept his face forward even though their parking spot under the golden arches enabled him to look

wherever he wished. "So, no. I don't trust easily."

Yet she couldn't miss how he'd trusted her today with a piece of himself and his past she suspected very

few—if any—knew about.

"Enough heavy crap for one day." He reached for the door. "I hope burgers are okay."

"What?"

"Burgers. As in lunch, with some salty fries and a couple of apple pies. I assume you haven't eaten yet."

"No. But—"

"We'll get them to go."

"And where are we going with these burgers?"

He smiled. "Trust me." God help her, she did.

Trust was a tricky thing. Much easier to live up to than to give.

Carson parked his truck in the marina lot, more than a little humbled by how easily Nikki had gone along

with his mystery plan. Although given the wariness creeping into her clear gray eyes as she looked across

the line of bobbing boats down to Beachcombers Bar and Grill, she seemed ready to revoke her easy

compliance.

"My sailboat's docked here now that I invested in something larger," he explained.

"Oh. Right. I thought for a minute you planned to wrangle some memories out of me and honestly, I've

found that forcing it doesn't work." She sagged against the seat, staring out toward the bar with a

melancholy weariness staining her eyes. "They always sneak up on me best when I'm not expecting

anything."

"You're starting to remember what happened with Owens?"

She turned her head on the seat toward him. "Almost right away actually, I've gotten these smattering bits

and pieces that may or may not be helpful. I shared everything with Agent Reis, for what it's worth. I

even let Mom contact a hypnotist colleague from work, but I never could get past thinking what an ugly

watch he was using for a focus point."

"Resistant?"

"Scared to death."

"Thank you for trusting me today." He wanted to say more, but knew better than to let things get any

deeper and thereby ruin the afternoon. "Come on. I don't have lazy days much anymore and I intend to

enjoy the hell out of this one."

Reaching into the back, he grabbed an extra windbreaker and tossed it to Nikki before snatching up their

fast-food bags. Seemed she needed this day out on the water even more than he did. He couldn't help

but think how in the past he would have offered a woman a more romantic meal such as croissants, fruit