Chapter 5
“Quinn, why don’t you run in and find Mr. James? Tell him we’re here and find out where he wants us to bring in the stuff.”
My kid gave me a skeptical look. “The auditorium, Dad.”
“Quinn.” I didn’t have to do anything other than raise an eyebrow. He knew his tone had been bordering on rude.
He popped open my truck. “Going! Sorry, Dad.” And he was off like a shot.
I jumped down and walked around to where Jay had straightened up. “You okay?”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then his shoulders slumped and he shook his head. “You were right.”
It took me a second to catch on, but when I did, I sighed. I put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Did he hurt you?”