Unbreak My Heart (Unbreak My Heart #1)(80)

Whatever reservations I’d had completely vanished.

I loved her.





Chapter 19

Kate



Hey, Katie?” Aunt Ellie called from the back door. “The school just called. They said you need to come get Keller.”

My head snapped up from where I’d been spraying off the patio furniture. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, sounds like he got into trouble.”

“Fuck,” I hissed and stomped to the side of the house to turn off the hose.

“You want me to go with you?” my mom called as I jogged up the stairs. I was in cutoff shorts and a pair of Crocs—no way was I leaving the house that way.

“No!” I called back down to her as I reached my room. “I’ll just go pick him up.”

It didn’t take long for me to get to Keller and Sage’s school, and by the time I’d pulled into the parking lot, I was both furious…and embarrassed. I wasn’t sure what Keller had done yet, but if they’d moved from sending notes home to sending the kid home, I figured it must be pretty bad.

When I reached the office, I found Keller sitting all alone in one of the chairs against the wall, his face covered in dirt and smeared with tears.

“Auntie Kate!” he gasped, jumping up and running toward me. He wrapped his arms around my hips and buried his face against my waist just as a tall woman came out of the principal’s office.

“Hi, I’m Susan McCauley,” she introduced herself, reaching out to shake my hand. “I work as a counselor here at the school.”

“Kate Evans,” I replied, letting go of her hand so I could drape it over Keller’s shoulders. “What happened?”

“Is Keller’s dad going to be here soon?” she asked, rudely ignoring my question as she looked past my shoulder. “I’d really feel more comfortable talking to Keller’s parent.”

I felt like I’d been slapped in the face; I was so shocked by her tone. What the hell?

“Keller’s dad is at work,” I answered flatly.

“Well, it’s very important that he comes in to speak with me. Can you please call him and ask him to come in? It seems we don’t have his phone number in our records.”

“He can probably come in after work,” I hedged, grinding my teeth.

“Office hours end at four, so that’s not really going to work out unless he can get here before then.”

“Are you new?” I asked bluntly, in awe of her audacity.

“I’ve been here for a few months. Why?”

“Word to the wise, most of these kids have parents in the military. Most of the time they can’t just leave in the middle of the workday.”

She grew flustered as I stared at her, then straightened her shoulders. She had to have been younger than I was, but she held herself like someone much older.

“Well, what time would work for him?” she ground out, giving me an insincere smile.

“Probably around five,” I answered, lifting Keller into my arms. “Are we done?”

I signed Keller out quickly, trying to juggle his heavy body and my oversized purse, and within a few minutes we were in the car and headed back toward the house.

“What happened, bud?” I asked, glancing at Keller in the rearview mirror.

“I got in a fight,” he mumbled, meeting my eyes.

The mask of indifference he’d been wearing for the past few months anytime he was in trouble slowly disappeared off his face, and he burst into tears.

“Why the heck would you do that?” I asked gently, pulling onto the freeway.

“Nathan called me Little Orphan Annie,” he bit out, swiping a hand over his face angrily.

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” I stated. “You’re not an orphan. Orphans don’t have parents.”

“And I’m not a girl!”

“That’s also true,” I said, trying not to laugh at the disgust on his face. “But you can’t get in fights, little man, because then you get in trouble.”

“Daddy’s gonna be mad at me,” he replied softly, making my heart ache.

We were silent for the rest of the drive. When we finally reached the house, Keller jumped from his seat and crawled out of the car, running inside as I pulled my cell phone from my purse.

“Hello?” Shane answered after a few rings.

“Hey, so I just picked up Keller from school…”

“Shit.” He sighed. “What happened—is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. According to Keller, he got into a fight because some little snot called him Little Orphan Annie.”

“Well, that’s not much of an insult.”

“It is when you’re six.”

“What did the office say? Is he suspended or something?”

“I don’t know—they wouldn’t f*cking talk to me,” I answered in exasperation, frustrated all over again by that snotty counselor.

“What? Why?”

“The counselor wanted to talk to you.”

“But you were already there.”

“She wants you to go in after work and talk to her.”

“Fuck. I won’t be off work until after four.”