Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(126)

With a smile back, Josie felt her muscles start to relax.


Carson was whispering with his friends when one of the strangers stopped in front of them. The doctor one. The guy had black hair with gray at the sides. Gray eyes.

To Carson’s surprise, the man crouched down. “You’re Carson, I believe?”

Carson nodded.

When the guy had been talking to old Purcell, he’d looked really scary. Now, he smiled and looked different, almost as nice as Holt.

“Yukio, Juan, Ryan?”

His gaze showed he could tell them apart, and the others nodded.

“Sometimes when children go through tough times, it can be a struggle afterward. My job is helping kids work through what’s happened. Help them figure out what they can do now, what they might have done better, and how to talk with parents or friends about it. Or anything.”

Carson narrowed his eyes. One thing still bothered him more than the rest. “How ’bout figuring out when someone isn’t really a friend.”

“Ah.” The gray eyes softened. “We all get played sometimes, Carson. However, I can show you a few things to watch for that will cut down on the chances.”

“Yeah?” Ryan leaned forward. “Can I come, too?” Of them all, Ryan had felt the worst about Brandon’s behavior and…betrayal. They’d been friends a long time.

“Yes, Ryan.” The man tilted his head. “Since you all went through this together, I think it might go well if you all visited me together.”

Yukio stilled. “You’re a psychologist.” He shook his head. “I don’t think my parents can pay for something like—”

“Josie is a friend, and this is a way I can help,” the man said gently. “There won’t be a charge for any of you. I’ll talk to your parents next, but I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“See how screwed up we are,” Ryan muttered.

The man’s quick laugh was almost as good as Holt’s.

Carson grinned.

“Are we screwed up?” Juan asked, almost in a whisper.

“Not even close.” The psych person smiled slightly. “But you could be more comfortable about what’s happened. I can help with that.”

Comfortable. Carson nodded. When he thought about the fire and Brandon, it was like scraping his fingernail over a cut. “Yeah.” He looked at the others. Would they call him a pussy like Brandon had? “I want to—if you guys will.”

But they were all nodding. Ryan’s eyes were red.

Carson let out the breath that he’d been holding. All right.





Chapter Thirty-Two





Freshly showered after a rousing backyard soccer game, Holt opened the dresser drawer for a clean T-shirt. Soon after the fire, Josie’d cleaned out half her dresser and closet space for him, because he’d pretty much ended up living over here. When his lease was up, he’d move in formally. When they’d discussed it with Carson and Stella, the boy had cheered. And Stella had made Holt a huge cake to take to the firehouse. It’d been her way of saying she approved. Damn, he loved this family.

“Mo-o-om, what’re they going to do? Are they going to stick me?”

Pulling on his shirt, Holt chuckled at the question coming from Carson’s bedroom. It was good the boy’d returned to being an exasperating pre-teen.

Sitting on their bed, Josie grinned at Holt and called to Carson, “The lab will swab the inside of your cheek. No needles.”

“Holt says it’s a syringe, not a needle.” After the grumpy correction, Carson kept going. “Why are we doing this, anyway? I already know ol’ Everett’s my father, and he knows, too. He just doesn’t wanna say so.”

Josie closed her eyes. She was still sensitive about Everett and his rejection of Carson.

Holt wasn’t sensitive at all. He gripped her nape and put their foreheads together. “I got this, pet.”

Her relieved look was all the reward he needed. Holt headed down the hall, pleased he was here for this discussion. “You’re right, ace. Everett doesn’t want to admit the truth.”

In his debris-strewn bedroom, Carson sat cross-legged on the floor. His mouth twisted into a lopsided frown. “Because he’s a douche.”

Smothering a grin at the word, Holt joined the cat on the bed. “Hey, Poe.”

After a narrow-eyed stare, the cat stalked onto Holt’s lap. Running his hand down Poe’s soft fur, Holt turned to Carson. “You asked about the DNA test. It’s like this: In the eyes of the law, each person must take responsibility for his actions, even if he didn’t intend for something to happen. Like, if you break a window, you pay for the window.”

Carson gave him a wry grin. “Guess I know that one.”

“Yep. You had a nice straightforward consequence. Things can get complicated though.” At breakfast, they’d discussed a Tampa news story about a drunk driving his pickup through a restaurant window. That’d be a good example. “If you run your car into a restaurant, you pay for the building as well as the hospital costs for whoever got hurt and their bills until they return to work.”

Carson’s eyes widened. “You mean that boozer’ll have to take care of everybody he hurt.”

“Exactly.”