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And, somewhere in Warren’s sick, dead heart, was the belief that his son deserved to have everything done ‘just right’ to give him the best chance in life.
That meant a mother’s milk.
It meant a strict diet for said mother to be on, so I provided the best nutrients possible.
It meant that I got to have my son in my arms every night.
And, as Judah got older, got conscious of things like cuts and bruises, it meant he stopped leaving marks on me.
But, as it turned out, Warren Graves didn’t need to enact physical violence on me to still keep absolute control over me.
Because he controlled my son.
I watched as the weekly grocery delivery van pulled up the driveway, backing up toward the kitchen, before I forced my gaze away.
“Hey, buddy,” I said as I turned to find Judah standing at his crib bars, smiling at me.
I got him dressed for his day before settling him on my hip, and heading into the kitchen.
“What do you want for breakfast?” I asked him as we walked into the all-white kitchen. White tile floors, white tile backsplash, white cabinets, white quartz countertops. The only spot of color were the stainless steel appliances. If you could even count that. “How about some eggs with—“ I started, then heard a chorus of male voices moving through the house.
Curious, I moved toward Judah, pretending that putting on his bib was an intricate task as I let my gaze slide toward the doorway, seeing the guards move past the kitchen. Likely toward Warren’s office.
So, he’d lived through the night.
Unfortunately.
Did a part of me feel bad for wishing for the death of my son’s father? I mean, yeah. But the larger part of me knew just what Warren would turn my sweet boy into if given the chance to do so.
The thing was, as I pretended not to look, I realized it wasn’t just some of the guards.
Oh, no.
It was all of them.
All of them.
My head whipped to the side, looking out the side door toward the driveway.
Where the driver in his khakis and black polo was bringing reusable bags toward the front door. Leaving the running van… unattended.
I didn’t stop to think.
I didn’t even consider the chance that one of the guards was maybe still loitering around the grounds.
I just whipped Judah out of the chair, yanked open the door, and ran.
My heartbeat was slamming in my chest as Judah let out a little giggle, excited by the sudden adventure, even though I was practically crushing him against me.
My gaze oscillated around the grounds and back toward the house, trying to tell if anyone was around, if someone could be seeing me.
Warren’s office was on the other side of the building. So he and his men couldn’t possibly see me as I got to the van, finding one of the solid back doors ever so slightly ajar.
“Thank you thank you thank you,” I whispered to the heavens as I yanked open the door, and climbed inside, closing it with as quiet a click as possible.
The inside of the van was cramped.
Both sides were lined with metal shelving filled with multi-colored bins, each bin almost overflowing with bags. More deliveries to be done.
