A kernel of doubt unfurls in my stomach.
“Why?”
What am I missing?
“She’s desperate, Grant. I couldn’t tell you before because of confidentiality, but the situation has changed. April’s a junkie.”
“A junkie?”
Time stands still for a long heartbeat, and my stomach drops.
She can’t be talking about April. About the kind, curvy woman I’ve gotten to know.
“That’s why she didn’t get custody. She’s an addict and was known to the authorities…”
I don’t hear the rest of what Tabitha says. It makes sense. The dark rings under her eyes, the troubled look, the secrets she was keeping, the way she rubs her hands up and down her thighs when she gets anxious.
But can April really be an addict? She’s been nothing but sweet and kind and gentle. I can’t marry the picture of a drug addict with the curvy woman who’s in my house.
She’s in my house. She’s alone with Bailey.
I race out of bed, almost tripping in the bed sheets, and tear down the hall to Bailey’s room.
The crib is empty.
Panic bolts through my veins, and I spin around and run out of the room.
“Bailey!” I call. But there’s no answering giggle.
“April!”
The house is silent, and I stand in the living room butt naked as fear grips my heart. Baby toys are strewn over the rug, but my daughter isn’t here.
Panic clenches my stomach, and a fear worse than anything I experienced in Iraq crushes my chest.
Where is my daughter?
A giggle has me racing to the window, and that’s when I see them.
April is crouched at the bottom of the slide while Bailey sits at the top. She pushes herself off and gives a happy squeal as she zooms down the slide. April catches her at the bottom, and they both giggle as April hoists her into the air.
I storm out of the house, not caring that I’m naked. The closest neighbors are half a mile away.
“Give me my daughter.”
The smile on Aprils face drops when she sees me, but I only have eyes for my daughter.
11
APRIL
The door slams shut, and I jerk my gaze to the house.
Grant thunders down the stairs with his fists clenched and a face so red he might explode.
He knows.
My heart drops into my stomach. Somehow, he’s discovered the truth. It doesn’t matter how; he knows, and it’s over.
