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They took Blake.
Chapter Sixty
Marlow
They took my baby.
They took my baby.
I rocked back and forth in the foyer, rivers flowing down my cheeks. Andrew’s angry voice floated in from the living room, but all I could focus on was the confusion on Blake’s face as that woman took him away.
Was he scared? Hungry? Did he have his favorite elephant? Panic ripped through me. He wouldn’t sleep well without it.
I crawled up the stairs to his room. The stuffed animal was in his crib. I held it tight as an agonizing cry escaped me.
Strong arms caught me as I collapsed, gently easing me to the floor.
“I’m sorry, Wicked. So sorry.”
I shook with sobs as Patrick held me. “He’s gone.”
“We’ll get him back. I promise.” He kissed my hair.
“I didn’t do what she said I did,” I choked out.
“I know.”
“I’m a good mother.” I gripped his hands.
“The best.”
“I don’t want him to be scared.”
“If he is, he won’t be for long.” There was a slight tremor in his voice that splintered me.
“I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it.” The words barely escaped, a fractured plea.
“We’ll prove you didn’t.”
His hold was the only thing keeping me together. Lost, I shrank into him.
“Where is he?” I whispered.
His cheek pressed to mine, the comfort slightly warming my chilled bones. All the crap between us evaporated. No ugly words. Nothing that couldn’t be taken back. Just Patrick here when I needed him most.
“I should’ve been here.” He spoke so low I wasn’t sure I’d heard him. “I thought it would be worse for you if I was.”
Agony wove through every syllable. He stroked the stuffed animal as I gripped it.
“Can’t get him back for three days.”
I jerked my gaze to Andrew’s blurry form in the doorway.
“Three days?” Patrick’s fingers dug into me.
“There’s a waiting period. Then we’ll have to go before a judge.”
“But the evidence is bullshit,” I cried.
