Page 86 of Mack

“Well?”

Troy stared at him. Then swung.

He missed.

Mack didn’t. One punch, short and precise, straight to the chin. Troy went down hard.

Mack stood over him. “You done?”

Troy rubbed his jaw. “I wasn’t ready.”

“Ready.” Mack looked down at him. “I gave you the first shot. You missed. That’s on you.” He reached down, hauled him up, cuffed him again, and pushed him back onto the sofa. “Stay there. You know you’re going away for a while. Kidnapping carries serious time.”

“I didn’t kidnap anyone.” His voice cracked on the last word.

Mack folded his arms across his chest. “Kidnapping isn’t just grabbing someone off the street. You took that boy without his mother’s consent and refused to return him when she demanded it. You have no legal guardianship and even if you did, that’s kidnapping. So yeah. You did.”

He heard a vehicle and went to the door. A sheriff’s SUV pulled into the driveway and Jack Lawrence stepped out. Mack held the door open.

“Jack.”

“Hey. What have we got?”

Mack laid it out quickly. Jack listened without interrupting, his jaw tightening as Mack talked. When he finished Jack looked over at Simmons on the sofa with a look that didn’t need any words.

“Vehicular homicide served three years, and now this,” Jack said. “Not nearly long enough.”

“No. Can you take him in? I need to check on Mallory.”

“Go.” Jack crossed to Simmons, hauled him up, and walked him out. He loaded him into the back of the cruiser, gave Mack a nod, and drove off.

Mack walked to his truck and tapped lightly on the window. He saw Mallory jump, then she looked at him and exhaled. He opened the door and slid in beside her.

T.J. was in her lap, face buried against her shoulder. Mack touched his back gently.

“Hey, buddy.”

T.J. lifted his head. The tear streaks on his cheeks did something to Mack’s chest that he felt all the way through. Then the boy reached for him and Mack took him without hesitation, settling him against his shoulder. T.J. didn’t cry anymore. He just tucked himself in and sniffled quietly.

Mack reached over and touched Mallory’s hand. She looked at him.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded. Then shook her head. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she pressed her lips together, trying to keep it quiet for T.J.

Mack pulled her in with his free arm and held them both.

“I could kill him for this,” Mack said as he rubbed the bruise under her eye. “Pack a bag for both of you and come stay with me this weekend.”

She looked at him. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Mack—”

“We’ll talk later.” He held her gaze. “Go pack.”

“Alright.”