Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(104)

“Get out.” If she held herself rigid enough, she wouldn’t break into pieces. Not until he was gone.

“Josie.” His voice was hard. Unrecognizable. “Someone is starting fires at the school…and, from Carson’s reaction, he’s involved.”

“He is not. I can’t believe you…” I trusted you. Choking back the words, she yanked open the door. “Get out. Get out now.”

Anger simmered in his eyes, but his voice didn’t rise. “Josie, I’ll try to get you some time to talk with him, but sooner or later, Carson will have to talk to the authorities.”

Authorities? He’d sic the police on her child? Her hands clenched.

As Holt walked out, she forced out the words through stiff lips. “We’re done, Holt. Don’t come back.”

He started to turn around, shook his head, and kept going.

He kept going.

He didn’t even protest.

The sound she heard as she closed the door wasn’t footsteps, but her heart crumbling into pieces.

*

Shit-buckets. Holt knew.

Carson hunched on his bed, wanting nothing more than to crawl underneath it and hide.

Poe had already darted under there. The cat didn’t like raised voices or slammed doors.

Carson was too old to hide under the bed, but…Holt knew. He was a firefighter. Of course, he’d figured it out. Would the police come?

Kids couldn’t be arrested, could they?

His stomach twisted until he felt like he’d puke. Breathing hard, he slid down to the floor. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t started any fires…only been there when Brandon surprised them all at the classroom. It was supposed to have just been poop. A bunch of shit in a bag. Not fire.

Holt called it arson. That was serious. And he’d said there’d been a fire at someone’s house. What was with that?

Putting his arms around his knees, Carson shivered as his horror grew. Had Brandon, Ryan, or someone done…more? Had one of them started the dumpster fires? Everybody at school had laughed about those fires. So had Carson.

Shit-buckets, would Holt think Carson did those fires, too?

Should he have told someone about the classroom stuff? Told Mom?

No. The guys were his friends. Bros don’t snitch on bros.

But he hadn’t started any fires. Did being there count? His chin quivered, and tears burned his cheeks.

He sniffled, then listened. He didn’t hear anyone talking. Had Holt left?

A tap came on his door, and he tensed. “Carson?”

Quickly, he rubbed the wetness from his face. “Yeah.”

The door opened, but he couldn’t look up. He stared at the floor.

Mom moved forward, and he saw her feet stop in the middle of the floor. She was barefoot. She liked being barefooted, she said. Because her heroine never wore shoes.

He sure wasn’t like any of her heroes.

Would they take him to jail?

“Holt is gone…and he won’t be back.” Mom sat on the floor and tried to put her arm around him.

He wanted to climb onto her lap and cling, so he pulled back. Scooted away from her. “Good. He’s an asshole.”

She didn’t say anything about his language and that…was weird. “Did you start those fires, Carson?”

“No!” His hands clenched tight. “I said that. I didn’t start the effing fires.” His tears dried as burning hurt his chest.

“I know you have the teacher whose—”

“Holt says I did something, and you believe him. Not me—because he’s your boyfriend, right?”

“No, Carson, because—”

“I didn’t do it, okay?” He jumped to his feet. His face was hot. His anger, hotter. His voice rose. “It wasn’t me.”

“Oh, honey.” She shook her head and stood.

When she put her hand behind his neck, he yanked away. “Leave me alone. I don’t want you in here.” His voice cracked.

She looked at him for a long moment, then left. Walked out and closed the door, and he wanted to call her back. Say he was sorry.

Because she didn’t look pissed off. Just…sad.

He stared at the door and started to cry.

*

Holt walked back to his duplex, thinking of all the things he might have said. Should have said.

Way to fuck things up, dumbass. He’d gotten…carried away. Because when it came to fire and children, his brain went dead, and diplomacy flew out the window.

Why the hell hadn’t he talked to Josie first and led into the subject gradually? Maybe asked about Carson’s pals. The kid had been trying to find new friends in middle school—a mom would understand how her boy could make bad choices in buddies. That they might have talked him into something stupid.

He sighed. Yeah, because every mother wants to hear that her son could be involved in arson.

Shit.

He walked into the duplex and kicked the door shut. Pulling out his cell, he considered it. Should he call her?

Would she even answer? Concern tightened his hand on the phone. Josie’d barely lowered her defenses to let him in, and now, she felt betrayed. After all, Carson was part of her heart.

Hell.

Once she had a chance to think, she’d see the truth…wouldn’t she? She was a wise, smart, logical woman. Surely, she’d know Holt didn’t mean to harm her son, and if the child was involved in any way, it was time to get him out.