Page 15 of Broken Discipline
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
“Did you tamper with it?” I asked. I crossed my arms, and in the background, the kids shouted to each other.
“Of course not. But I can take a bite and prove it if you’d like.”
There was very little chance that she had actually done anything to the food, but I had no idea what Finn’s agenda was, and I had a feeling that he had drugged our drinks or food somehow to get us here. I couldn’t trust anyone, especially when it came to my kids.
“Go ahead,” I said. “Take a bite.”
She opened the bell peppers baggy and ate a strip. She lifted her shoulders. “Not poisonous.”
I took them from her hands. “All right,” I shouted. “Let’s go.”
“I can take them to the academy for you,” she said.
I shook my head. “Thanks, but we’re good.”
“Mr. Carter told me—”
I raised a hand, stopping her, then walked away. A hint of guilt simmered inside of me. There was a chance she wasjusta nanny who was honest to a fault, but people weren’t always what they seemed.
“Let’s go! Let’s go!” I shouted. “Come on! Pre-school time!”
The twins ran past me to the front doors. I followed them out, but as soon as I stepped onto the driveway, my eyes landed on a car. I stopped in my tracks. It was the same forest green hatchback I had when I was a teenager, back in my hometown. It was an old car then, and which meant it was over thirty years old now. I hadn’t seen the car since before I had married Bruce.
Tank, my old car. I had missed her.
Larkin eagerly pulled at the car’s handle, popping it open. Leon waved me forward.
“Come on, Mama,” he said. “The academy is waiting.”
The keys were in the center console, and two car seats were waiting in the back. The twins hopped into the car, crawling across the back seat, bickering about who got to sit where.
“Let the nanny take the kids,” a deep voice said.
I spun around. He was dressed in a suit like a professional. The tips of his steel toed black boots peeked out from the bottom of his trousers, in complete contrast to the rest of his professional image. His hair was styled on top, like he was on his way to a meeting. It reminded me of the Masquerade, what he must have looked like before he had killed his father and taken off his bloody shirt.
I couldn’t remember what he did for a living. I had met him once at the Masquerade, but my husband had never mentioned him again.
“I don’t need a nanny. They’re my kids,” I said.
“Our kids. Our life. You don’t need to do everything yourself.”
I gritted my teeth and ignored him, helping the twins get strapped into their car seats. From the driver’s seat, I glared back at Finn, and he pulled his keys out of his pocket like he was ready to go somewhere.
I opened my car door. “What are you doing?”
“Following you.”
“You don’t—”
He put up a hand, silencing me, like I had done to the nanny. “My decision, Ramona.”
I let my breath expel slowly, then slammed the car door. The engine purred to life, sounding better than I expected. Hell, the thing could barely go above fifty miles per hour, but it wasmycar, one of the few things I had paid for all by myself. And that felt good for once.
But Finn was still following us.
Once we arrived at the tall, brick buildings of the Fairview Elite Academy, I parked, then walked the kids up to the classroom.
