“I’m sorry.” I swallow. “I had no idea this was some kind of cahooty ambushy plan. If I see a guy who’s been a total d**k to me absconding with a child, it’s only natural for me to . . .” To what? Why did I intervene, again? Now that the adrenaline has dried up, I cannot recall what my reasoning was. I’m no hero, nor do I want to be.
Ken Doll snorts. “Were you watching us from the window?”
“I mean . . . yeah?”
“Creepy. You need a hobby.”
“You’re right. I’ve heard amazing things about paragliding, or competitive duck herding. Maybe I could—oh, wait. I forgot that I’m literally stuck in a one-hundred-and-thirty-square-foot bedroom twenty-four seven.”
“Read a book, pointy.”
“Enough.” Lowe stalks across the room to crouch in front of Max, who instantly tries to scramble away. His tone is
