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How selfish I’d been!
How fucking selfish.
At least Talon had gotten to go.
My Talon…
But Talon was fine. Talon had to be fine.
Raine Stevenson, Luke Walker, a few other children as well, I found out.
And now Talon.
My Talon.
But we had a witness this time.
We had Ryan.
Only seven years old, and witness to a terrible crime.
My poor sweet boy.
But at least he was here. Unharmed.
Where was my Talon?
“We’ve got our best men on it,” a detective was telling Brad. “We’ll find your son.”
“Just like you found the others?” Brad said snidely.
“We’re doing the best we can.”
“Your best isn’t good enough. I’m going to have my men on this.”
“Please do,” the detective said. “We appreciate all the help we can get. Unfortunately, our resources are limited.”
“Mine aren’t,” Brad said. “I need to get my wife and son home. They’ve been through enough today.”
“Understood.” The detective nodded. “We’ll be in touch.”
I still clutched Brad.
“You and Ryan come with me,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “Cliff will drive your car home.”
I nodded into his shoulder. I couldn’t make my voice work. Not yet.
Two men had my little boy.
Two men in masks.
Two men in masks had my little boy.
Two men in masks were…
Couldn’t.
Couldn’t let my head go there. Couldn’t—
Pull. Slice. Wrap. Hand to customer and smile. “What else can I get for you today?”
The deli owner’s daughter would get through this. This was her job. Keep things logical. Always a certain rhythm to life.
A logical rhythm.
She stared straight ahead at the road.
In the back seat, the other woman’s child lay down, his arms wrapped around himself, his cheeks streaked with tears. Such a young thing. Poor little young thing.
No. Don’t get emotional.
Stay logical.
The child will survive.
But the other child? Daphne’s child?
Daphne needed protection. Her children needed protection. Especially the one living inside her now.
The deli owner’s daughter patted Daphne’s pregnant belly. It felt hard. Yes, another Braxton-Hicks contraction.
The doctor wasn’t worried, so why should the deli owner’s daughter worry?
Worry wasn’t logical.
Mr. Steel drove up the driveway to the ranch house and parked the truck.
The deli owner’s daughter settled in.
Pull. Slice. Wrap. Hand to customer and smile. “What else can I get for you today?”
She had work to do.
Chapter Fifty-One
Brad
Daphne stared into space as I parked the car.
She stared into space as I opened the back and gathered Ryan into my arms. He made no sound, but silent tears still streamed from his eyes. He sniffled into my shoulder.
She stared into space as I opened the passenger door for her.
She stared into space as she exited the truck and took my hand.
She stared into space as we walked into the house.
Jonah was waiting just inside the door, his cheeks also streaked with tears.
Crying is for girls.
Words from my father.
Words I’d said to my sons.
Words Joe and Ryan weren’t heeding.
Words I was having trouble heeding myself.
“I’m so sorry, Dad,” Joe sobbed. “I should have gone with them. I should have—”
“Stop,” I told him. “Please. Your mother and brother don’t need this right now.”
He gulped down his sob and nodded.
Yes, we were all hurting.
I didn’t want to abandon my oldest, but he was the least of my concerns now.
His brother. His mother.
And God…
Talon.
My innocent second born.
Thank God Ryan got away—
My stomach dropped.
Ryan got away.
Ryan, who was smaller and weaker than Talon.
Ryan.
Wendy’s son.
Wendy was behind this. She had to be.
I knew that five million wouldn’t satisfy her need for vengeance, but I never thought—
Never imagined she was so full of hatred that she would see a child harmed. See my child harmed.
I’d underestimated her, and now I was paying the ultimate price.
I’d make her suffer if it was the last thing I did.
And knowing Wendy, it just might be.
Ryan clung to me as I carried him into the house, my other arm around my wife, who was clutching her belly.
“Baby? You okay?”
God. Stupid fucking question! Of course she was not okay. None of us were okay.
Talon had been taken by masked men.
And I was pretty fucking sure I knew who’d paid them to do it.
I had.
The money I’d given Wendy.
My stomach churned, acid burning me and crawling up my throat.
Fucking bitch. Fucking whore. Paid off derelicts with my money!
He’s a child! A damned child!
I had to get on the phone. Had to get out and find Wendy. I’d fucking kill her. With my bare hands. Oh, yes. I could do it right now. Right fucking now.
“Mom,” I said, “could you please get Daphne to our bedroom? She needs to rest.”
“No. I don’t need to rest. How can I rest when my baby is—” Her eyes widened.
“What, baby? What is it?”
“Brad. I think my water just broke.”
I was a father for the fourth time.
Except my daughter wasn’t going to live.
I sat with my sweet wife in recovery after her C-section. Daphne had been right all along. This was our girl. Daphne was awake but staring into space.
