Hard Break (Deadlines & Diamonds, #5) Read Online Free

girl was too smart for her own good.
    The big metal door rose slowly to reveal his Mustang. He walked in, opened the door to his car. Penelope crawled into the backseat and fiddled with the seatbelt. It went right across her face, snapping against her nose. She frowned at him.
    “We should get your booster seat.”
    She nodded.
    Retracing their steps, Ian held Penelope’s hand, letting her lead him into the garage. Taking Kayla’s SUV with the boosters already in place would be easier than trying to move them into his car.
    “Do you know where your m ommy’s keys are?”
    “Yes.” She ran as fast as her toddler legs would take her into the kitchen. Her upper body almost vanished into Kayla’s purse. She struggled to free herself. Ian offered an assist. She held them up. “Got ‘em. Ice c’eam.”
    He took the keys from her fist and picked her up. It was a good thing she knew how to fasten her own carseat. Ian didn’t have a clue. She was the most independent thing he’d ever seen. God help her mother when she reached those teenage years.
    God help Kayla to get through the next few days.
    Ian expected the SUV to be clean, like the house. Yeah, no. School papers, Post-It notes, empty fast food bags, you name it, filled the floorboards. Ian smiled, feeling at home.
    He turned the key, the radio came on with the engine.
    “An officer involved shooting has claimed the life—”
    Oh yeah, so not going to go there. He frantically punched the button for the CD player and groaned when Wheels on the Bus blared from the speakers. But preschool songs beat the hell out of the alternative, and Penelope’s off-key karaoke warmed his heart.
    A few minutes later he pulled up in front of the school. Parents were already in line to p ick their kids up. In forty freakin’ minutes. Ian didn’t want to wait, couldn’t wait. The urgent need to get them out of school, safely under his wing where they wouldn’t accidentally hear about their father’s death from some well-meaning idiot, spurred him.
    He eased the SUV into a parking spot and got out. When he opened Penelope’s door, she was already unbuckled and scrambling down. She jumped to the ground, her Crocs crunching on the gravel. She grabbed his hand. “Come on. I show you.”
    She walked like she owned the place, her tiny shoulders back, her chin high. He held the door open for her, following her in and around the corner.
    An older woman glanced up. “May I help you?”
    “I’m here for the Black children, Chase and Sadie.”
    “And you are?”
    “Ian McCallister.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “And who are you to them, Mr. McCallister?”
    He barely contained the screw you, managing to keep it to an eye roll. “I’m an emergency contact. Please call for the kids, then check it.”
    “Oh, I’ll check it.”
    Her fingers click-click-clicked on her computer keyboard. She frowned. “I’ll need to see some ID.”
    He tugged his wallet from his back pocket, retrieved his driver’s license and handed it to her. Wrinkles appeared around her lips, showing her disapproval. She returned his identification, pushed a clipboard toward him, and fiddled with a folder. She picked up the phone, made two calls, then pointedly looked at some chairs against the wall. “Have a seat, they’ll be down in a few minutes.”
    “Thank you.” He turned.
    “It’s just weird,” she muttered.
    He slowly twisted back to her. “I’m sorry.”
    She huffed. “You. Getting the children. It’s just…weird. You’re not related.”
    “You know—” He sucked in a breath, ground his molars, let his blood cool to a mere simmer. “—at some point you’re going to feel real bad for bustin’ my balls.”
    She gasped, but didn’t get a ch ance to condemn him further because Sadie showed up in the doorway. She squealed. “Ian!”
    He shot a victorious grin at the old bitty. “Hey, lovebug. Where’s your brother?”
    “Ian?”
    Question answered.
    “Hey, buddy.”
    Chase gave him