think so.”
He straightened and helped her get to her feet. Kept his hand on her shoulder. “We need to get those cuts cleaned and—”
“Is there a problem?”
Uncle Leo’s fingers tightened briefly on Bree’s shoulder but he smiled at her before facing her dad. “She’s hurt,” he said, gesturing to her legs. “She fell.”
Her dad took off his sunglasses and, though he was never one to notice much about her, blinked at her torn-up knees. “What happened?” he asked, not sounding quite so mean as he had a moment ago.
“I was trying to catch you.” She tried to be cool, as if it was no big deal, but instead she sounded like a little kid who was about to start bawling any second. As if she blamed him for what happened. “I tripped on the curb.”
“She ran out in front of a car,” Uncle Leo said, giving her shoulder a squeeze as if that somehow made him tattling on her all better. “She didn’t even look down the street.”
Her dad stared at her for so long, she squirmed. “Is that true?”
“I did look,” she whispered. “I thought I could make it.”
“I thought you were old enough to cross the street by yourself.” He sound confused and looked surprised, as if he really didn’t know what she could and couldn’t do.
“I am,” she insisted.
“I’ll take her home and help her get cleaned up,” Uncle Leo said into the silence. “Wouldn’t want to take you away from your training.”
Her dad put his hand on her other shoulder. “I’ve got this.”
Bree glanced between them, feeling unsettled and...nervous...she guessed. Both her dad and Uncle Leo were pretty big—her dad was wider but her uncle was taller—but that’s where any similarities ended. Uncle Leo cracked jokes and smiled all the time.
Well, she thought, biting her lip as Uncle Leo glared at her dad, he usually smiled all the time. He wore jeans and a black Shady Point Fire Department T-shirt, his dark hair neatly combed, his face smooth. While her dad was...sweaty. He must have run around the block really fast. He had wet spots under his arms and his shirt clung to his stomach and back. His hair was messy and his cheeks and chin were covered in whiskers.
“Do you know each other?” she asked then winced. Duh. Of course her dad and her uncle knew each other. Didn’t they?
Uncle Leo nodded once. “We went to school together.”
“So, were you friends?” she asked.
“No,” they said at the same time.
“Leo always had a problem staying out of other people’s business.” Though her dad’s voice was quiet, his words were still sort of scary.
Uncle Leo stepped forward, pressing Bree closer to her dad. “My sister is my business.” He smiled but it wasn’t his regular smile. It was mean. “Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing if some loser had gotten your sixteen-year-old sister pregnant.”
Bree’s eyes widened. They were talking about her mom?
“I wouldn’t have needed two of my buddies to help get my point across,” her dad said. “I would’ve handled it on my own.”
They were quiet, staring at each other in a way that made Bree feel funny. She wanted to tell them to knock it off, except they weren’t yelling or fighting or anything. But it seemed as though they were about to.
“Come on,” her dad said to her, his voice rough. “Let’s get you home.”
But Uncle Leo didn’t let go of her shoulder. “You’re going to make her walk all the way home? She’s hurt. I’ll drive you.”
“I don’t want to walk home,” she said when it looked as if her dad was going to say no. She shifted closer to Leo so that her dad’s hand fell away from her. “I’m tired.”
His jaw twitched, as if he was chewing on something. Then he nodded.
They got in Uncle Leo’s car, her dad in the back, her up front. The ride home was quiet. Tense. And couldn’t end soon enough.
As Leo pulled to a stop in her driveway, his radio went off. He listened to the call—car accident on the highway—responded, then swore under his breath. Her dad got out of the car and waited for her on the porch. “I have to go,” Uncle Leo said as she climbed out of the car. “Will you be okay?”
“Yes.” What else could she say? That she didn’t want to be alone with her dad? That she wanted to go with him even if it meant spending the rest of the morning at the