I stay rooted to the spot, and a few moments later, watch as Ciara hurtles down the front steps and throws her arms around Ronan.
I look away, feeling like I’m being torn open by grief.
Scout is safe, but it’s another kind of torture not to be able to go and wrap my arms around him and Cormac too.
My knees buckle, and I sink to the floor, burying my head in my hands as my body trembles with the force of my tears.
I wish I could tell them both how sorry I am.
Chapter Six
CORMAC
I waitfor the relief to hit and the adrenaline to fade, but it never does.
Even as I sit across from Scout at the breakfast table, watching him push his chocolate chip pancakes around his plate, all I feel is a suffocating panic.
This isn’t the same Scout.
He moves through the house quietly, like he’s afraid of making too much noise. He answers my questions with nothing more than a nod or shrug, or sometimes nothing at all.
When Ciara tries to distract him by making him his favorite food or Riley brings out some new toys, he accepts them without any enthusiasm.
He hasn’t even cried, and that scares me more than anything.
It’s been almost twenty-four hours since we brought him home, and I haven’t let him out of my sight. Not when he eats or when he sits on the couch with his knees pulled to his chest, staring at nothing. Not when Riley gently suggests a bath, and I hover just outside the door like a guard dog, listening for any sign of distress.
At this point, I think I would prefer him to scream and cry over this empty look in his eyes that he’s had ever since we brought him home.
I tell myself it’s temporary. That once the adrenaline fades and the house settles back into something resembling normal, I’ll loosen my grip on him, but that’s a lie. The truth is, I don’t trust the world anymore.
By the time night comes around, exhaustion hangs heavy over the house, the kind that seeps into your bones.
Riley snuck away to bed hours ago, taking Kieran and Aubrey with her while Ronan and Ciara huddle away in the TV room with the twins.
Scout lets me carry him upstairs to bed even though he hasn’t let me do that in months.
His arms loop around my neck automatically as he rests his head on my shoulder.
It’s the only willing contact he’s offered me all day, and I almost lose it right there on the stairs.
I tuck him into bed with his stuffed dinosaur, taking extra care in smoothing out the blanket and turning on the nightlight, hoping that the sense of routine and normalcy will make him feel safe.
Scout watches me the entire time, but he says nothing.
I sit on the edge of the bed and brush his hair back from his forehead. “You okay, buddy?”
He nods as he looks away, clutching his stuffed toy to his chest.
I take that as my cue to turn off the light.
“Daddy?”
My hand freezes.
“Yeah?”
He hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip.
