Total pages in book: 178
Estimated words: 170884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 170884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 854(@200wpm)___ 684(@250wpm)___ 570(@300wpm)
Chapter Forty-One
A.J.
A.J. looked across the room to where the unfamiliar woman sat on the edge of her bed and brushed out her wet hair, humming to herself and smiling all the while.
Yes, he was only five-years-old, but he knew something was wrong.
Something was very wrong.
This woman—this bad lady—had told him his parents had given him to her as a gift, but that sounded wrong. As wrong as being alone with the too-smiley woman felt.
He didn’t like it here. He wanted to go home.
Home to his mother. Home to father. Home to Molly.
Just home.
A.J. peered around the room as he often did, looking for some way out. But she was always one step ahead, locking doors, closing windows, sleeping in the same room as him. He was beginning to think he’d never find his way home, and remembered what his mother had told him.
If he were ever lost, all he needed to do was find an adult and they would help him find his way home.
He slyly glanced over at the pretty woman. She was an adult, but she wouldn’t help him.
He began to wonder just how many bad people there were in the world. How many of them looked safe and pretty like her? How many of them were women?
It was a frightening thought for such a young mind to comprehend.
“Excuse me,” he spoke softly.
The woman stilled before turning to him. She looked at him expectantly. “Mummy.”
He hated this. She insisted he call her that. But she wasn’t his mother. His mother was his mother. This woman was a bad lady, and he didn’t know why she wanted him, why she took him.
And so, he refused to call her that.
Her smile widened as if she felt his internal struggle. As if she enjoyed it.
When she turned to face him, what she said caught A.J.’s attention. “Sweetie, if you call me mummy, I’ll give you anything you want.”
He thought about that. “Anything?”
The bad lady’s smile stretched into a grin. “Anything,” she promised.
A.J.’s little heart began to beat faster. He didn’t like what he knew he had to do, but he’d do it. He’d do it for his mum.
“Mummy,” he started, and the woman’s face softened along with her smile, “I’d like to go home now.” The moment he saw the woman’s spine stiffen, he knew he’d said something wrong. “To my real mum and dad.” When her eyes shuttered, A.J. felt a cold draught flow through the room as her mood darkened. “Please,” he added as politely as he could.
But as easily as her mood had soured, her lids fluttered and then she was smiling again so sweetly he actually believed she might do as he asked.
He should have known better.
“Oh, sweetie.” The woman gazed at him warmly before uttering, “You are home.”
A.J.’s entire body broke into goose bumps at the way she said it, like she really believed it. Something was very wrong with this lady. And luckily, A.J. was smart enough to see that he was not going to win by upsetting her.
So, for now, he’d do as she pleased no matter how much it hurt him.
He turned back to the toys on the floor, and when he spoke again, he did it gently.
“Okay, Mummy.”
***
Twitch
The front door opened and Thiago stood there, watching me closely, a frown marring his perpetually knitted brow. “Where the fuck you been?”
I pushed past the jackoff and stalked down the hall into the main room where everyone was waiting on me. They were all there. The instant I saw her sitting on the sofa, her face void with emptiness in her eyes, I went to her.
As I approached, ignoring everyone else around me, my chest tightened when, for the first time in two days, she blinked up at me, and muttered, “We’re going to get him back.”
I frowned at my woman. Of course we were. What did she think—that failure was an option? Did she even know me? What the fuck was going on inside that pretty head of hers?
Not knowing worried me.
Taking her small, cold hand in mine, I sat by her and pulled her into me, pressing soft kisses to her clammy brow, and she let me, closing her eyes, taking in the comfort I so rarely offered. And when I pulled back, searching her face, I gently pushed stray hair behind her ears and vowed, “He’s coming home, baby.”
She did her own intake of my sincerity, and as she reached up to cup my cheek with her weak hand, she smiled softly. “Be a parent, they said.” She grinned, but her breath hitched. “It’ll be easy, they said.” When her lips began to quiver, I hugged her to me, cupping the back of her head as she trembled and shook, and in that moment, I knew I would do anything—and I meant anything—to see my son home safely to his mother.