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“He doesn’t know if it’s a boy or girl?”
Tony flicks through the papers again. “Nope. Never seen it. Girl’s been on run over three years already. She’s been lucky so far.” He digs the picture back out. “Pretty girl. Looks familiar. Seen her anywhere?” Tony holds it for Liam to see again.
“No.” Liam bites out.
“Anyhow. They should be easy to take once they’re found. Just grab the kid and momma will probably fall right in line. So, you want the job?”
Liam heaves out a heavy sigh and looks at the ceiling. “I don’t know. Give me time to think about it?”
Tony shrugs and starts shoving the picture and papers back into the envelope. “Yeah. Don’t take too much time though or Carlo
will give it to someone else. He wants this done.”
“Why is it so important?”
“He wants his kid. And he wants momma to pay for taking off.”
Liam watches silently as Tony finishes packing away the paperwork. His mind is reeling and running a thousand miles an hour. Willow. Carlo’s whore. And Frank. Carlo’s son. No wonder she’d been so insistent Frank’s father never find them. Of all the bad guys around, Carlo was worst of the worst. Liam is starting to regret ever hearing the man’s name. He’s so lost in thought that he jumps when Tony’s hand lands on shoulder.
“Let me know, man. Soon as possible. I’d say no more’n twelve hours.”
“Yeah, okay.” Liam nods absently.
Tony walks a few steps before turning back around to Liam. “One more thing to think about…”
“What’s that?”
“The last guy that went looking for the girl and the kid? He didn’t find them. And Carlo wasn’t happy.”
“Yeah?”
“Let’s just say…the desert vultures didn’t have to look to hard for dinner that night,” Tony nods and walks away. He doesn’t need to explain it anymore to Liam. He knows exactly what’s at stake. The problem is he doesn’t know what he’s going to do about it.
Chapter Eighteen
Willow
With Frank happily settled in front of cartoons, Willow takes the phone Liam tossed at her into the kitchen. Liam was right though. Where was she going? How could she possibly get another place? She was a crappy mom and Frank deserved way better than she could ever give him. Maybe she should just…give him up. Just the thought causes tears to prick behind her eyelids. Never seeing her baby boy again? She roughly rubs the tears away. She’s beginning to think it might be the only way. If she could find a nice couple, somewhere in some suburb or small town. Somewhere he’d be safe.
Her breath catches her in her throat. She could never. She is hopeless and pathetic.
She lays the phone on the counter without making any calls. She knows her grandparents would help, but now that her mom was in the picture she didn’t have an option to go back. This was messy. It was all fucked up, Willow was stuck. Yet, she wanted to get out before Liam came home. She knew that the couldn’t stay, that part was crystal clear.
Running into the bedroom, she throws the rest of their things into her bag and zips it shut. She shoves her feet into a pair of shoes and slides on a light jacket. She reaches into the pocket and pulls out what money she has left. Quickly counting it, she realizes it might be just enough to get a bus to…somewhere. She’ll take what she can get.
Dragging her bag into the living room, she tells Frank to get his shoes and his tiny backpack. She helps him slip the straps over his shoulders and unzips it to drop in the plastic truck he’s clutching in his hand. After tugging his shoes over his feet and zipping up his jacket, she takes his hand and gives him an encouraging smile.
“Okay, sweetie, we’re going on a trip,” she says brightly, taking him by the hand and leading him to the door.
“Yay! Liam comin’, mommy?” the tot asks.
“No, baby. This is just a mommy and Frank trip, okay. And I’m going to need you to listen very carefully to me. Stay with me, keep hold of my hand the whole time.”
“Okay, mommy.” Frank straightens his shoulders and puts on his serious “big boy” face.
“Okay then.” Willow takes a deep and leads Frank to the door, gripping his little hand tightly. They head down the hallway and start down the stairs, the wheeled bag bumping over the steps, Frank hopping down each one, counting to ten over and over. Willow is watching Frank, making sure he doesn’t stumble down the stairs, when a large body comes flying across the landing and barrels into her, knocking her bag out of her grip.
“Liam! What the hell?” she gripes at him.
