The Bad Boy of Butterfly Harbor(75)

“I’m entitled.” She pressed her lips to the top of his head, waiting for the relief to surge. “You’re all I’ve got, bud. I love you so much, but you’ve got to stop scaring me like this.”

“I scared Charlie and Sheriff Luke, too.” Did he have to sound so proud of himself? “But I’m okay.”

“I know.” Holly swiped at her tears and leaned against the elevated bed. She stroked a hand down the side of his face and for an instant saw the same carefree, reckless light his father had possessed his entire life. So much like Gray. Until now she hadn’t realized how much that terrified her. “What happened?”

“I have to tell Sheriff Luke first,” Simon said. “I have to file my report, but I don’t know where my notebook is. Do you have it?”

“File your—” Holly groaned. Simon and his one-track mind. But she couldn’t blame him for it. Simon was who he was. Who she’d guided him to becoming. Luke had guided, too, it seemed since Simon’s focus had shifted from superhero to deputy. Luke. She needed to talk to Luke and assure him Simon really was okay. He didn’t look convinced. “After this, you’ll be lucky if I let you out of your room, let alone the house again.”

“Then, how will you go to work?” Simon mumbled against her shoulder as he hugged her again.

“How will I—” Holly let the laughter take over. “I’ll manage. We’ll manage. You know you’re running out of luck, right?” If a collection of butterfly bandages across his forehead could be considered lucky.

“Deputies don’t need luck,” Simon whined.

“Your mother’s right,” Luke said from the doorway. “Consider yourself on leave,” Luke ordered.

“Did you find Kyle?” Simon demanded. “Or my notebook? I made drawings about...”

“He ran off after telling your grandfather what happened. I’m heading to the station now to start looking for him. We’ll find him.”

“He won’t tell you the truth.” Simon tried to sit up, but Holly kept him in place with a firm hand. “That’s why I needed evidence. I was right. He’s going to do something really bad, Sheriff. I wrote it all down. Charlie and I followed him—”

“I can’t believe you dragged Charlie into this,” Holly admonished. “You’re lucky she wasn’t hurt, too.”

“I only brought her along because she wouldn’t let me leave the tent without her,” Simon said with a roll of his eyes, but then he winced, as if he suddenly realized he had a headache. “Ow.”

“Get some rest.” Luke said, coming over to the bed and patting Simon’s foot through the blanket. “I’ll come back in a bit and we can talk about it then.”

“But—” Simon turned pleading eyes between the two of them. “What about the gu—”

“You heard the sheriff,” Holly added. “Get some rest. Now.”

Simon grumbled something incoherent as he slammed against the mattress and crossed his arms, a scowl on his face.

Holly approached Luke, but he walked away from her to lean against the wall, head down as he stared at the floor. “I am so sorry,” he whispered.

“For what?” Holly frowned. “Luke, he’s an eight-year-old boy. He’s going to take some tumbles. Granted, he seems to take them with a bit more flair than most—”

Luke’s head snapped up. “How can you joke about this? It’s my fault he’s in there, my fault he got hurt. I’m the one who thought it was a good idea to bring Kyle along. And now...” He rubbed at his hands and the blood that was still on them. “I promised you he’d be okay. When I think of what could have happened—”

“Luke.” Holly had to bat at his hands so she could hold them. “You got him here. You were there when he needed you. There’s nothing more you could have done—”

“I could have kept my distance.” The hostility and defeat in his voice spoke of something more than an injured eight-year-old, and Holly went cold. He was disappearing before her eyes, folding into himself and vanishing. “I should never have let myself believe... No one’s safe around me, Holly.” He squeezed his eyes shut, and even then he cringed when she released his hand to stroke his face. “I’m poison. For all of you.”

“You’re overreacting,” Holly whispered, her heart breaking. He took so much—too much—on himself. When was he going to understand he couldn’t control the world? “Luke, I don’t blame you.”