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Almost. But it’s not enough to erase the facts: my son was kidnapped and she’s the reason why.
I shake her off of me and she crumples to the floor. She’s a mess. A shuddering, sobbing mess. Seeing her on her knees like this fills me with conflicting emotions.
“If you really wanted to save them, you’d tell me where Benjamin is.”
“I can’t! I don’t know!” Her voice crackles with something that sounds like heartbreak.
Some deep, dark, insane part of me wants to believe her. It’s the part of me that keeps growing despite every attempt to kill it. I want all of this to be some big misunderstanding. I want Benjamin to be safe in his crib, in my home. Inourhome.
I want Piper to think I’m a great father.
But she doesn’t. She thinks I’m so ill-equipped to handle raising a baby that she is willing to put other people’s lives in danger just to keep Benjamin away from me.
That fact would sting if it didn’t make me so fucking angry.
“Until the plane lands in Mexico,” I remind her. “If you don’t reveal where he is by then, your friend and grandmother are dead.”
Her face cracks wide with despair. If I stayed, she’d probably beg. Maybe she’d make a deal.
But the time for that is over. Now, it’s time to catch a plane.
7
PIPER
Ashley and Gram are half a continent away from me. That was the entire point of sending them to the Yucatan Peninsula. It’s what I wanted. What IthoughtI wanted, at least.
Now, it’s the worst thing in the world.
How can I protect them when they are half a continent away?
The idea hits me all at once. One second, I’m crumpled on the hospital floor, my face pressed to tiles sticky with mop water. The next, I’m on my feet with my phone to my ear.
“Does my phone plan include international calls?” Ashley asks in lieu of a greeting. The line is a little fuzzy, but otherwise, it sounds like she’s in her fifth floor walk-up ten minutes from my office. “Because if not, you’re gonna have to hang up and text me.”
“I’ll cover the charge. Ashley, listen—”
“Oh, hold on,” she says. There’s a staticky sound like she’s covering the receiver. Then I hear distant voices, followed by Ashley laughing long and loud. When she comes back, laughter is still fresh in her voice. “Sorry about that. Mateo was picking up the kids.”
Kids?
“Who’s Mateo?”And what kids?
“Our neighbor,” she sing-songs. I can tell immediately she likes him. “His wife is out of the picture and he needs help watching his kids occasionally. They’re seven and five.”
“You hate kids.”
“I hatemostkids,” she corrects. “But Mateo’s kids are great. He’s great.”
Shit.All at once, it hits me that I’m about to drop a huge, steaming pile of my drama on top of Ashley. After I already sent her to a new country with nothing but a few scant explanations and a wad of pesos.
“You two have friends there already?” I ask.
She hums in the affirmative. “Gram is good friends with the couple who run the bed and breakfast. They’ve been introducing us to the neighbors. I guess most people don’t stay as long as we have. It’s a nice little community. I have a bread guy now. He makes this amazing sweet bread over an open flame. It’s so amazing with a cup of coffee. You’ll have to visit and try some.”
Just like that, I have a plan.
Timofey said that when he landed in Mexico, he’dfindAshley and Gram. That means he doesn’t know where they are yet.Thatmeans I still have time to head him off at the pass. He won’t listen to me. Not now, not here. But maybe, if I can surprise him in Mexico, he’ll have cooled off long enough to listen to me.
