Page 8 of Delayed Penalty

“Are you here with someone else?”

A nod.

My senses start tingling. She’s not talking much and looks skittish, as if she will bolt at any moment. If she doesn’t have a mom or dad, and she’s not here alone, then…who the hell is she here with? A kidnapper?

No, no. Don’t go there, Quinn. You’ve been watching too many Lifetime movies.

But the thought refuses to leave my head the more I look at her sad blue eyes, so I make my decision: I’m taking this little girl to the police station.

I rise to my full height. “Why don’t we try to find someone to help you, huh?” I hold my hand out to her, giving her my bestYou can trust meface.

She looks at my outstretched hand, and her little brows crush together when she stares back at me. “I’m not supposed to go places with other people.”

“It’s okay. I’ll make sure you’re safe, sweetie.”

Her eyes dart around the store. “I don’t know…”

“I promise I won’t let a thing happen to you. I?—”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I jump-spin for the second time today, but it’s not a little girl I find behind me this time. It’s a man—abigman, tall with broad shoulders, reddish-brown hair, and the most piercing silver eyes I’ve ever seen.

And I know him.

Well, I don’t exactly know him, but I knowofhim. Adam Hayes, forward for the Seattle Serpents, and a regular at my mother’s bakery. The latter part I only know because he came in the last time I was between jobs and my mother took pity on me—I hate that it’s a trend—and was incredibly rude when I messed up his order.

“It’s a simple black coffee. How hard is it to not screw that up?”

Imighthave “accidentally” spilled his replacement cup on his shoes. Maybe.

Okay, I totally did, but did he really have to be such a jerk about it? So I got the orders mixed up and added a couple packets of sugar to his. Big whoop. Clearly he needs some sweetening as he’s currently scowling at me like I just stole his last piece of cake or something.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he barks again, this time moving past me and sinking to his haunches, grabbing the little girl by the shoulders. “Are you okay, Flora?” His voice is softer now, sweeter. Nothing like how he just talked to me.

Even though he’s crouched down, the girl still has to tip her head back to look up at him. “I’m okay, Uncle Adam.”

Ah, he’s her uncle. Not stranger danger.Thank god.

“I told you not to move.” His voice is a mixture ofanger and panic. “I was just going into the bathroom for a minute.”

“I—I’m sorry. I…I…”

He sighs, shaking his head, water droplets from the downpour outside sliding over his forehead and down his slightly crooked nose. “It’s okay. Just…don’t do that again, all right? I was worried about you. Someone could have taken you.” He swings that intense stare of his back my way as if I wasn’t already aware he was talking about me.

“The only place I was taking her was to the police station.”

He grunts. “I don’t need someone who can’t even get a simple black coffee right to be taking Flora anywhere.”

So he remembers me too.

“Sorry about your shoes.” I smile at him, but we both know I don’t mean it.

“It’s okay. Bess made sure to take the cost of them from your paycheck.”

“You know Mrs. Bess?” Flora asks, her eyes lighting up for the first time. Sure, it’s only a little, but at least it’s something.

I smile at her. “I sure do.Mrs. Bessis my mother.”

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