Page 2 of Crave

What was my plan? Show up at Tiffany’s mother’s house and demand to get my son? Show some DNA test done by Roman’s friend? Kidnap my boy back?

The rational Mia knew that I should take a deep breath, call Grant, contact the police, and file a case.

But Mia had been missing for six months.

Ksenya was anything but rational.

I could call Grant, but he would realize I was high—a conversation I did not want to have with him. I couldn’t possibly drive. No matter how desperate I was, I refused to drive intoxicated. My parents had been killed by a drunk driver. I would not risk innocent lives.

I could call an Uber or call Autumn to take me up there? Neither of those options sounded appealing. Especially since I had no idea what Julián’s grandmother would say when I confronted her. That was likely to end with her calling the cops and having me, the crazy woman trying to take her grandson away, put in jail.

There was only one other option.

I texted Mitch.

Mia: Can you take me somewhere?

Only a few seconds passed before I saw the text bubble.

Mitch: On my way.

I finished my tea and went outside to wait. Twenty minutes later, Mitch showed up, a satisfied grin on his face. I hopped in the truck and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for coming.”

“I was surprised to hear from you so soon. Where to?”

“Temecula.”

“Why?”

I considered telling him but paused. It wasn’t fair to tell him before Grant. I wasn’t adding my blabbing the news to everyone else before him to my long, long list of indiscretions.

“I need to visit Tiffany’s grandmother. Get some more information to free Joaquín.”

He glared at me. It was never a good idea to lie to a SEAL. They could always tell.

“Why isn’t Grant taking you?”

This time, I’d tell the truth. “Because I don’t have a clue where he is. He left this morning and hasn’t answered my texts. Besides, he seems to think Joaquín is guilty, which is why you’re here, big guy.”

“Fine. But I’m going in with you.”

“Okay.”

We drove up to Temecula in comfortable silence. I appreciated Mitch helping me, even if it was just because he wanted me. Maybe I’d misjudged him. He may be a misogynist jerk, but he was loyal and protective.

We turned onto the street, and I let out a gasp when I saw a truck parked in front of the grandmother’s house.

Grant’s truck.

Oh, fuck.

“What’s Grant doing here? I thought you said you didn’t know where he was?” Mitch asked, slowing.

“I didn’t.” I turned to Mitch. “Please, just drop me off. He can’t see us together. He will freak.”

“No way.” He turned the truck down an adjacent street and parked. He pulled me toward him, his piecing stare penetrating me. “Mia, tell me what the fuck is going on.”

I burst into tears, unable to stay strong any longer. I told him everything. When I finished, my tears had slowed and Mitch looked mildly shocked. I expected him to ask a million questions, but he didn’t. He waited until I got myself under control and looked right at me. “How’d you find out?”

“Autumn took me to meet Tiffany’s mother last week. I thought the boy was Joaquín’s, so I plucked a hair from his little head. I had it tested, and he’s my son.”

“And Grant knows? He found him first? Is this why Joaquín killed Tiffany?”

“I don’t know. Maybe Grant took him from the hospital. I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Get a hold of yourself.” His strong hands gripped my shoulders. “Listen, Grant didn’t kidnap him. No way. He would never do that.” He kissed my forehead. “I’m going to drop you off at the bottom of the street. You tell Grant you took an Uber. I’ll stay around the area in case you need me. Text me to let me know you’re okay.”

“Thank you, Mitch. You’ve been really great to me. You’re a good guy.”

“You make me a good man.”

I gave him a kiss on the cheek and jumped out of the truck. Anticipation and fear twisted inside me as I headed toward the house.

Toward Grant.

Toward my son.