Page 111 of But For You

When we got home, I made the mistake of lying down on the couch and getting snuggly with Hannah instead of simply grabbing the car keys and heading right back out to go to the grocery store, which was not within walking distance.

“Are we going?” Sam asked me, but I could hear the humor in his voice.

“In just a second,” I promised, even though it was cold and overcast outside.

We were having a weird little few days of cold, which was unusual for September, and all I wanted to do was curl up and not move.

“Your cat is in a ball in the middle of our bed.”

He had the right idea.

Sam made a fire and turned on the TV, and when he was done, he shoved both Hannah and me off the couch and took our spot.

“Daddy!” She was indignant.

He grunted at her.

I got back up and lay down on top of him, draping myself across his chest, my head under his chin. Hannah snuggled down in his left arm. Kola joined us, PSP in hand, head on the other end of the couch, his legs between mine, on top of Sam’s. We were a warm pile, all crushed together, and I could not keep my eyes open.

“I like it when there are other people here,” Kola said after a few minutes of only the sound of football. “But I like it when it’s just us too.”

“Me too,” Sam said, and I felt the rumble of laughter deep in his chest.

“What?”

“Your daughter,” he said, and his grin was wide when I opened my eyes.

Head back, eyes closed, mouth open, my sweet little angel was snoring like a drunken sailor.

“I told you,” Kola grumbled from the other end. “She’s really a boy in there. She farts too, you know.”

Yes, I knew.

Waking up from a nap in the middle of the day is never good. You rise grouchy and ready to go back to bed. So, I was in a foul mood as we headed over to the grocery store.

Once there, Sam and Kola went to get milk and bread and the rest of the essentials, and Hannah and I went to grab fruit. I had apples and grapes, and I was picking out some bananas when someone said my name. Before I could turn, I felt a hand on my shoulder and then a gun—and I knew what one felt like firsthand—pressed to the middle of my back.

“Come with me.”

“Okay,” I said because I just wanted to get the man away from my girl.

“Pa.” Hannah looked up at me, tugging on my hand, trying to move me forward, only then seeing the man and trying to step around me to see my back. “Come on.”

“No, love,” I told her. “Go find Daddy.”

Her face wrinkled up, and she started the blinking she always did before the tears.

“B,” I directed her as I felt the gun shoved hard against me, “run.”

She didn’t argue. She was feisty, my girl, but she understood what my tone meant, and the sound of my voice had left no room for argument. She bolted away from me to go find Sam. The idea of my munchkin alone in a store would normally make my stomach hit the floor, but she started to scream. I heard her—I was certain dogs all across the tristate area did too—as she began to wail for her father.

“Shit,” the guy muttered behind me.

I sent up a silent prayer, thanking God that kidnapping kids had not been on his agenda. I had no idea what I would have done to keep my baby safe.

The man grabbed my bicep tight and walked me away from the produce department and then out the front door, where a black sedan was idling halfway across the parking lot. We were close to it, almost on top of it, when the back door opened. I saw dress pants, but no one leaned forward so I could see a face.

“Freeze!” I heard Sam yell from behind me.