Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(118)

She echoed it. Her son was alive and unharmed. But he sure had some explaining to do. She held him tighter…and felt him wince in pain.

What?

Releasing him, she stepped back and got a good look at him in the bright light. He had a black eye, a cut across his cheek, raw scraped knees. And his ribs were obviously sore. She touched his face. “Carson, what happened? With the fire? To you?”

“Brandon wouldn’t listen to me, wouldn’t stop. I tried, Mom. I tried to stop him. But he’s bigger—and fights better.”

“Fights?” Anger flared within her. Brandon.

Then Holt was there in front of her, the other two children beside him. Britney ran over to snuggle against Josie’s side.

Holt put a hand on Carson’s shoulder. “No worries, Josie. He’s been putting ice on that black eye while we waited for you.”

She caught the subtext. This wasn’t the time or place to have a proper mommy meltdown.

“Timothy!”

At the woman’s cry, Timothy turned, and relief filled his expression. “Mama!”

Coming in the ER door was a short, trim brunette around forty years old. Her expression frantic, she ran across the room.

Timothy met her with an audible thump and was buried in her arms. Her legs obviously failing, she went down on one knee, and Britney hit her a second later. All three were crying.

Josie pulled Carson close. When her independent boy actually clung to her, she felt like weeping, too. With an arm around him, she asked Holt, “What happens now?”

“Now we talk to the police. Probably the arson investigator.” Holt scrubbed his face. “Brace yourselves. It’ll be a long night.”

“What the hell happened?” The shout of anger came from…Everett. Older, hair graying, beefier, but Everett.

Josie flinched, and so did Carson.

Everett stalked across the waiting room, two men trailing behind him.

Shoulders hunched, Timothy stepped away from his mother. “Dad.”

“You started a fire, didn’t you? Because I grounded your ass, you started a fucking fire.”

Timothy cringed. “No. A boy started a fire. We heard glass break and saw him. He ran around the house throwing stuff inside and then all of a sudden everything was on fire and—”

“You liar. What were you brats doing? My house is burning.”

Even as Josie pulled in a breath to defend the boy, Holt asked, “Are you the one who left a child locked in his room with no way to get out?”

Everett took a step back at the sheer fury in Holt’s voice.

The children’s mother gasped and stared at Everett…who flushed a dark red.

“Yeah, you were. By the way,” Holt said with a glance at the other two men. “Timothy is telling the truth. Neither of your children set the fire.”

Everett glared at Holt before his gaze moved to Josie. His eyes widened. “You? Here?”

“Yes, Everett. There was a boy who—”

Seeing Carson, he darkened with fury. “You… Damn you, you burned my house, didn’t you?” He took a step forward, hands clenched. “You’re not my fucking son, you little bastard. I have a son. You’re—”

“That’s enough,” Holt snapped, his hand on Carson’s shoulder. “Carson didn’t start the fire. He tried to stop the—”

Everett turned to Josie, and his rage was chilling. “You’ll pay, you bitch. Pay for my house, for the trauma. I’m going to sue you until every dime you make comes to me.”

“Doubtful,” Holt said in a measured tone. “But a lawsuit will be an excellent way to open up a paternity suit and expose the bastard who committed statutory rape, got a sixteen-year-old girl pregnant, and dumped her without a backward look. You owe years of child support for your son here.”

The blood drained from Everett’s face, and he took a step back.

“Son?” Catching on faster than his sister, Timothy stared at his father, then Carson. “You’re my brother?”

Carson’s mouth dropped open. “I…I guess.”

“No. No, he’s not,” Everett yelled. “She’s a lying—”

“The boy looks like Britney.” Everett’s wife rose to her feet, arms still around her daughter. The woman’s voice turned hard. “A sixteen-year-old, Everett?”

“Of course not, Pamela. She’s lying. I would never—”

“You would.” Pamela pulled her children closer and took a step away from her husband. Her face tightened. With betrayal. With disgust.

“Pamela, listen…”

“No, not any longer. I’ve tried to ignore your flings, but…to prey on a child?” The woman drew herself up straight. “And after grounding Timothy, you locked him in his room? With us gone? He was supposed to watch over Britney, and he was locked in his room? What kind of a father does that?”

She didn’t wait for his answer. “No kind of a father. And you’re no kind of a husband either.” Arms around her children, she walked out the door.

Everett slowly turned to Josie, his anger so visible, she took a step back. “You—”

Without a word, Holt moved between them, pushing her behind his back.

The feeling of being protected was…indescribable, but she couldn’t let him take on her problems. “Holt, no,” she whispered.