The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs, #2)(48)

“Do you know what was said?”

A little boy Dante’s age and much bigger is watching behind the cracked front door with a smirk on his face.

“What did you say to him?” I ask the boy.

“Now, now, let’s not go accusing anyone of any wrongdoing. Sometimes kids get scared at these things, being away from home and all.”

I pull Dante closer to me. “You’re raising a bully. This isn’t the first time that kid has messed with Dante. Do yourself a favor and nip that crap in the bud before he permanently screws some kid up. But I can guarantee you, it won’t be this one.”

“You know, Chris wasn’t even going to invite Dante. I’m the one who insisted on the invite.”

“Yeah, well, you can see how well that worked out.”

“You can go now,” she says, dismissing me in a huff.

“Happy to. This is your future problem, not mine, mark my words, you’re going to wish you had paid more attention.” I lift Dante into my arms. His chest pumps with his cries as I run a soothing hand down his back. “It’s okay, bud. It’s okay.” He hugs me tightly to him, his tears soaking my face, as I bend down and grab his backpack. I make sure to narrow my eyes at the little shit still staring at us before making my way back to my truck.

It’s the same kid who called him a weirdo on Halloween, and a kid with no conscience is the most dangerous thing on earth.

Safely inside the cab, I hold Dante to me until I feel his breathing even out. Once I’ve got him strapped in, I finally take a breath, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders.

“What happened?”

“I was trying to show them what Harper taught me.”

I physically flinch feeling Clarissa’s and my efforts backfire in a big fucking way.

“You tried to teach them how to dance?”

Dante nods.

Fuck. Fuckity fuck!

“You said it was cool.”

“I did, bud, for us. Most little boys don’t go around teaching other boys how to dance.”

“I didn’t know how to play what they were playing.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m not like them. They make fun of my videos.” His breath hitches from his crying stint, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything so painful in my life. Seeing the sign, I pull into Sonic and park at the drive-in before pulling Dante out of his seat to join me up front. He looks so small, so upset, that I have to look away to keep him from seeing the emotion in my face. They hurt my kid, and I want to go back and level that fucking house.

“Does Mommy tell you to ignore them when they call you names?”

“Yes.”

I can feel the cracks starting to separate me in half, terrified of his next answer. “Do they hit you?”

“No. They wouldn’t let me play after I tried to show them how to dance.”

“It’s okay. You know that, right?” I ruffle his hair. “You were just being nice.”

Dante nods. “Why are we at Sonic?”

“Slushy, then home.”

“Okay.” He’s tired, and I can tell, but I refuse to let this wait any longer.

Once we’ve ordered I turn to him. “Do you like adults more than kids? Is this why you didn’t invite anyone from class to your birthday party?

Dante’s lip quivers. “Uh huh.”

“Is that why you like Michigan J. Frog so much? Because you’re just like him?”

Another nod. I wrack my brain, trying to figure out a way to make my mistake up to him when I see my packed duffle in the back seat.

“What do you think about hanging with me this weekend. Just us?”





Angela’s Stuffed Bell Peppers

Lawyer, Ohio



Makes 6 servings





1 hour


6 Large Bell Peppers


2 Lbs. Hamburger Meat

1 Onion – Chopped

1 Tsp. Salt

1 Tsp. Pepper





1 Can Stewed Tomatoes


1 8 Oz. Can Tomato Sauce

1 Cup Uncooked Rice





1 Cup Water


8 Oz. Grated Cheese



Cut top off bell peppers. Scrape seeds out and rinse with water. Place peppers in large pan and completely cover with water. Boil for 5 minutes. Drain and set aside.



Brown hamburger, onion, salt, and pepper. Add stewed tomatoes, tomato sauce, rice and water. Bring to boil. Lower heat and simmer for 15 minutes. Stir in grated cheese. Stuff hamburger mixture into peppers. Top with cheese.



Bake at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.





Clarissa



“Mommy, wake up, sleepyhead.”

Dante’s voice jerks me out of a dream. Dante?

Stunned at his sudden appearance, I pull my sheet up to my neck, darting my gaze around the bed. “W-what are you doing here?”

I feel around on the mattress for my Womanizer and begin to panic when it’s not beneath the sheet where I left it.

My panic escalates when behind my son, I see a set of electric blue eyes.

Please, God, get me out of this.

But you probably shouldn’t ask God for a solid when you’ve been caught with your hand in your pants.