Riding Dirty: Luciotti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) - Kara Hart Page 0,31

staring out the window. It wasn’t her fault. Not one bit. It’s not like I raised her right. I was shit at being a mother and I would be the first to admit it. I looked at her through the rearview window. She was practically on the verge of tears.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. We all make mistakes. It’s just a test. We’ll study harder the next time.” I tried to lighten the blow a little bit. I knew how hard it was to be shunned by teachers. I dropped out of high school because of it. Well, that, and a slew of other bad mistakes. I just prayed she wouldn’t follow in my footsteps. It was my biggest fear.

“Everyone else did well. Traci said I was just stupid. She told me I’m from a stupid family, so it makes sense I would fail.” She was holding herself back from crying. A six-year-old, holding herself back from the pits of despair. It was killing me.

“Who said that? Traci? Traci Johnston?” I pulled off to the side and slammed on my breaks. That fucking bitch! I thought to myself. Traci Johnston was the daughter of Cheryl Johnston, a stuck-up cheerleader, turned Monroe real estate agent. I only knew her history because she talked about it so much at the PTA meetings. She was the absolute worst and I just knew her daughter would grow up to be awful.

“Yes, Mom. She tells me that stuff all of the time. Is she right? Are we stupid?” Jen asked.

“Honey, there’s one thing I want you to know. We are not a stupid family. We are a strong, courageous, and beautiful family. And we can do anything we put our minds to,” I said.

“Anything?” she repeated.

“Anything. Honey, don’t worry about Traci. Everyone knows she is the stupid one.” She smiled at me and I gave her a wink back. Maybe it wasn’t the best plan to trash talk her classmates, but bullies deserved some sort of retaliation. That’s not what I wanted to teach her, but this time I’d let it slide. Plus, I was pretty sure I was telling her the truth. Traci, from Monroe, wasn’t going to do better than my daughter.

I was about to put the car in drive and go, when I saw him in the distance, walking away from the grocery store with some bags in his hand. His hand was wrapped in white cloth that looked like a bandage. I drove up next to him and came to a slow stop, rolling down my window. “You know, I’ve never seen someone injure their hand so many times,” I said.

He looked up quickly and gave a half-smile. “Yeah, well people rub me the wrong way sometimes. Anyway, it’s the same injury. Must’ve messed it up making dinner last night or something,” he said.

“Dinner? You? I was almost positive you got all your sustenance from the café?” I laughed, suddenly feeling a strange sensation. Carmelo’s image flashed in my mind. What was up with him? Now was my time to find out.

“I’m actually an excellent chef. Bet you didn’t know that,” he said, smoothing out his jacket. “I’ll have to cook for you sometime. Like a date.” He pressed his lips together and eyed me up and down. I shook my head, half-disgusted by his constant stream of chauvinistic comments, while also strangely feeling intrigued by him. Him? A chef? A friend in high school once told me if a man can cook, he can surely eat pussy. Not sure why that popped in my head, but it instantly made me blush and look away.

I felt light headed by the thought of him below my steering wheel. “I’ll have to pass,” I said, maintaining my saltiness for the man. I had to ground myself. I had to remember that this guy was most likely trouble.

“Yeah? You’re probably right in passing on the opportunity. I’m sure you guys are all set with the box dinners you’ve been making.” He walked up to the window and leaned against it. Smug as hell.

“I can cook actually.” I rolled my eyes.

Jen was excited someone new had entered our lives. She didn’t care who he was or how he looked, or even if he was bad or good. She just knew he was a fresh face in a stale town. “Yeah! She cooked macaroni and cheese last night,” she said.

Lucas leaned in the window to look at her and kissed his finger. “Ah, cheprecca!” He exclaimed with a