Page 43 of Single Malt Drama

“And some toys?”

Drew nodded.

“Yes, ma’am.” Stuart walked to the kitchenette.

Pete narrowed his eyes. “Why are you helping us?”

“Because I know what it feels like to leave your home with nothing but the clothes on your back.”

With Stuart keeping a watchful eye, Pete and I spent a half-hour making a list of the items he would need to get through a day or two with the kids. By the time we’d finished, I was exhausted and in need of a stiff drink.

“Thanks for this.” Pete offered me a genuine smile.

“You’re welcome, but I couldn’t leave you here with nothing. I’m pretty sure the little one needed a diaper change hours ago.” I winced at the growing wet spot on my thighs.

He frowned. “You seem like a good woman. What are you doing with a bozo like Marchionni?”

“He’s not what you think he is.”

“A mobster?” He barked out a laugh.

Stuart cleared his throat.

Pete glanced over his shoulder at the other man, then leaned close and lowered his voice. “I don’t like him because he’s been fucking my ex-wife for a couple of years now, but let me ask you a question.”

Years?My heart lurched. “Okay.”

“Why did he bust into my home with armed men? Why not knock and speak to me like a human being?”

I hated to admit it, but he had a point.

“I knew Tara was into some questionable shit. I would have listened to reason. He didn’t have to scare my kids.” He sat back and folded his arms.

Because we didn’t have time to explain. Because your lives were in danger. Because…that’s the way it’s done.