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“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” I whisper into his hair and squeeze him right back. I may not have spent any time with this amazing little boy, but my heart literally aches for him. I would do anything for him. Just like I would do for his father. The man I undoubtedly love, and Max is an extension of that love.
I look up to find my mother, and it is her, the true her I see this time, watching me.
“Thank you.” So choked with emotion, the words barely make it past my lips, but she heard me.
“I—” Her words are cut off as shouting comes from somewhere in the house, and Max flinches in my arms.
“Go,” I tell her, and I see the battle within. I finally see the maternal instinct that’s been missing all these years, but it’s too little too late. For us both.
She gives me a solemn smile, tears glistening in her eyes, before she turns and leaves, locking the door behind her.
The shouts are lessened once the door is closed, and I quickly check Max over.
“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
He shakes his head. “Jessica, t-t-they made me call Dad. H-h-he sounded angry. Do you t-think he’s mad at me?” he sobs, finally allowing a little fear to escape.
“No, Max. God, no.” I look up at the ceiling as I try to hold back my own tears. Taking a deep breath, I look back to him. He’s studying my face and reaches out a hand to brush away a tear that managed to slip free.
“Don’t cry. He will come for us you know.”
“I know he will. I know.” That’s what I’m afraid of, but I keep that part to myself. I know Rick will be losing his mind right now, and I worry what that will mean for him and us if he comes here.
Moving Max to sit on the bed, I tell him to stay there. I look around the bare room before heading for the bathroom. Seeing absolutely nothing of any fucking use, I stand in the middle of the tiny bathroom with my hands on my hips.
“What are you doing?”
I spin around to find Max standing just outside the door, a puzzled look on his face.
“I’m looking for something.”
He pushes his hand into his pocket and pulls something out. Stepping forward, he holds it out to me. Taking it, I finally see what it is.
“Where did you get this?” I roll the small pocketknife around in my hand.
“Uncle Ryder gave it to me. He said I was only to use it in an emergency. This is an emergency, right?”
“This is most definitely an emergency. Uncle Ryder is a smart man.” I don’t voice how insane it is to give an almost six-year-old a pocketknife, but I can’t fault Ryder’s thought process, or the fact Max has grown up around men who would have been, consciously or not, teaching him how to look after himself since he was born.
A crash echoes up from downstairs, reminding me that we don’t have a lot of time.
“Okay, Max, I need you to stay in this room and be very quiet. Can you do that for me?” He nods. “You stay in here and don’t come out no matter what you hear. I will come and get you when it’s safe. Do you understand.”
“Is it like hide and seek? Because Uncle Seb says I’m the best at it.”
“Just like hide and seek,” I say with a smile. I move Max over to the sink and get him to sit beneath it. Reaching forward, I give him a hug, kissing the top of his head, and tell him again to stay here quietly till I come for him.
I take one last look at him before I close the door and quickly get to work on removing the handle. It might not have a lock, and although this won’t keep anyone out forever, it will make it harder and take longer as they’ll have to break the door down. I just have to pray that Max doesn’t open the door from the inside. God, I hope this fucking works.
I shove the back plate beneath the bed before pulling the spindle free. The gap beneath the door is just big enough for the spindle to fit under, and I give it a push, sliding it out of reach.
I put the pocketknife in my back pocket out of sight and sit on the bed. Now I wait.
Another crash comes from downstairs, followed by a holler of pain as feet thud on the stairs.
The key turns in the lock, and I thank God the bathroom door is at the far end of the room and out of sight of whoever is coming in.
The door opens to reveal a man of around my height, and whilst he’s muscular, he isn’t much bigger than me in size. His hair is long and black, tied back at the nape of his neck and looks like it’s been washed in a vat of oil.
