Page 100 of The Cost of Love

How someone can look in the face of a person who’s been abused and tell them their experience isn’t real is the true work of evil. Letting that be the deciding factor for the welfare and safety of children is incompetent at best. An entire system failed them today, and I don’t intend to let that stand.

As I reach the hall again, I see their mother still standing there as I hoped. She is staring down at her phone, a gluttonous and disgusting grin on her face. I have to take a big breath before I approach, and even then, I can’t help the sneer as I look down on her.

“Can I help you?” she asks before looking up.

When I don’t respond, her eyes meet mine and widen. Then she has the nerve to add heat to them and lift the corners with a grin.

“Aren’t you Chanice’s man?”

That doesn’t stop her from snaking her hand up my arm. I quickly remove it and try to swallow the bile that rose up my throat at the touch.

“I was hoping I could make you an offer,” I say.

This gets her eyebrows to rise as she looks at me hungrily. I stifle the repulsed growl at her unabashed desire. As if she hasn’t done enough today, she thinks above all else that she can seduce me away from her daughter.

“What kind of offer?”

“If you want to know, meet me at this location in an hour.” I pull out a paper with an address and hand it to her. Before I change my mind about my chosen method of persuasion, I turn and walk away.

I don’t look back, and I don’t stop until I am seated in a booth at the back of the restaurant. I could have just brought her here with me now, but I need time to think this through and find the right way to approach the situation. I also need to breathe and let go of some of my rage. But how can I?

Watching the woman I love ball her eyes out while she told all of them how her life was growing up broke something in me. She showed all of us, in so many words, all of the ways her mother has hurt her in a plea to save her siblings. While that was happening, those kids were crying in my arms, practically shaking in fear.

All of them so clearly displayed signs that should have been enough to take away their mother’s control over them. It was obvious to anyone watching what their fear meant, but apparently not to the judge or to the social worker who fought to do more harm. To them, the stories of neglect and abuse were just the opinions of a child.

So they ignored the facts and made the incorrect decision, and I couldn’t do anything. I just had to watch as they made it clear that the entitlement of parenthood dictates that the circumstances of the children’s lives are secondary to an adult’s claim of rights.

Well, now that the system has failed, I intend to take matters into my own hands.

I order a Scotch straight with no chaser, then I steel my nerves while I wait for her to be shown to my table. I made sure to choose a discreet location and a private room to limit the chances of us being seen together. Not that it will matter if we are. The weight of my wealth and connections won’t result in anything anyway. A load I, for once, am happy to bear as I plan to use it to my advantage. If things go how I want, then it won’t even come to that.

The way she smiles when she is sliding into her seat, I know that she will fold.

Still misconstruing the situation, she flips her hair and bats her eyelashes like I’m here for her.

There are traces of her daughter in her face, and in another life, if the years were easier on her, she would have been beautiful. But she is nothing but the beast who haunts the nightmares of the people I love. If I can’t slay it today, I plan to make sure it never returns.

“So, what’s this about?” She tries to wrap her fingers around my wrist, but I move them away from her and place them in my lap. Undeterred, she twirls her stringy hair and continues to smile.

I go right to the point, not wanting to delay this conversation any longer.

“We both know that the children are better off in Chanice’s care.”

“Excuse me!” Already incensed, she slams her hand on the table.

“What I don’t understand is why you want them. I don’t know if you think you can extort your daughter, since money is the first thing you asked for from her when you first called. But even with that and government assistance, it would be more expensive to have them than not to. So what is it?”

“I want them because they are my damn kids. I love them.”

“Do you?”

“Fuck you.” She goes to stand, so I grab on to her wrist.

“Please sit. I think I have something you might want more.”

“I don’t want anything more than my kids.” The way she eases back into the seat says enough.

“I’m willing to offer you any amount of money you want to walk away.”