My chest burned. A tight, searing knot of fury sat right behind my ribs.
I'd barely managed to swallow it down when Morton pulled a cigarette from his pocket. The lighter clicked.
Acrid smoke flooded the car in seconds.
I clamped my hand over Tommy's nose and mouth and snapped:
"There's a kid in the car—how can you smoke in here?!"
Morton couldn't have cared less. He deliberately blew a smoke ring toward me and Tommy, then let out a scornful laugh.
"What kind of man doesn't smoke? Might as well toughen the little guy up early."
Bernice chimed right in.
"Only your kid's precious, apparently. Daisy's sitting right here and she's fine."
The cigarette smoke and all the noise set Tommy off again. He started wailing.
I scrambled to soothe him, but Bernice was already complaining.
"God, that's annoying! Can you control your son?"
"This new car of yours is cramped. So uncomfortable. My friend's car has way more room."
"If I'd known it was going to be this tight, I never would've gotten in. And I definitely wouldn't have put up with your attitude."
My scalp prickled with rage. It felt like a boulder had lodged itself in my chest.
I turned to Lambert.
"Pull over at the next rest stop. I'm getting out."