Flee From Evil by Connie Almony

Author:Connie Almony [Almony, Connie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0157EGC0K
Goodreads: 26545687
Published: 2015-10-02T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Lew held the tray of drinks as he slid onto the bench-seat in the stands at the Hagerstown raceway. The sound of roaring motors soothed him like ocean waves did to others.

Tibo pulled his mom to follow.

Lew shook his head at the way Cassandra stepped carefully over trash in those dainty little sandals.

They settled into his favorite spot—close to the track, but high enough to see all the action. People around them stared at the unlikely trio—Tibo, Cassandra, and him—like they wondered how long the prissy-looking chick would stay married to the ragged old coot. Lew laughed at the thought as he checked out the woman next to him brushing track dust from her tidy white shorts. Like he’d marry a Lilly-White. He preferred women with spice.

Cassandra scowled at his chuckle. “What are you laughing at?”

He nodded toward the mud stain on the neatly folded cuff of her designer pants. “I guess I shoulda warned ya ’bout the dirt.”

“You’d think I might have figured it out … since it is a dirt-track race.”

“Yep.”

Her smile caught him off guard. “But it was worth it, watching Tibo meet the drivers, and see the cars up close.”

“Yeah, it was definitely worth it.” Lew felt his lip curl higher up than it usually did.

After grabbing two sodas from the drink tray, she handed one to her son. “Thanks, Lew.”

He dropped his gaze to his dusty boots, but felt her eyes bore into him.

“Really, Lew. No one has ever taken the time to get to know Tibo like you have. And no one shares his passion for cars like you do.” She wrapped an arm around the boy, and he giggled. “This means a lot to both of us.”

The kid stuck his forefingers in both ears as some engines roared below.

Uh-oh. “He’s not gonna freak out with the noise or anything, is he?”

Cassandra looked at her son, whose fingers were pulsing in and out of his ears now. She shook her head. “Oh, no. He’s not trying to stop the noise. He’s making it more interesting.”

Lew grimaced. “But I thought autistic kids—” He cursed. “I mean, kids with autism,”—he stressed the phrase Kat had told him to use—“hate loud noises.”

Cassandra’s grin took over her face.

“What?”

She lifted a shoulder. “It’s just funny seeing you be so PC. Didn’t know you had it in you, Lew.”

He grumbled. That’s what he got for trying.

“You’re right. Most kids with autism are very sensitive to loud noises. Tibo is like that with a few things. Sometimes it’s the acoustics of certain buildings—particularly ones that echo. But with most things, he’s a sensory seeker, not a sensory avoider. That’s why he loves the engines, and tries to make the noise have more impact by moving his fingers in and out.”

Louder roaring sounded from the track. Tibo palmed his ears this time, his smile uncontained.

Lew nodded. “Sorry ’bout the word.”

Her brows drew together. “You mean labeling him autistic rather than saying he has autism?” She smirked. “Or are you talking about

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