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I flinch and squeeze my eyes shut, blinded in a new way.
“It’s okay, angel. I’m right here,” Jude says, then I feel a pair of strong arms wrapping around me from behind.
At first, I tense. My body coiled tight. Unsure if I should try to fight him or make a fucking run for it.
But when he murmurs, “You’re safe, I promise,” and kisses the top of my head, I suddenly collapse in his hold.
All the strength going out of me.
Rubbing his big hands up and down my arms like he’s trying to warm me, Jude gently rocks me back and forth.
Repeating, “You’re safe. You’re safe, angel.”
When my heart finally calms down a bit, no longer beating fast enough to cause a heart attack, I open my eyes and let them adjust to the light.
But I don’t recognize anything around me.
The walls are soft gray, almost silver, and perfectly smooth. There’s not a scratch, chip, or scuff mark to be seen. The art displayed, paintings using broad strokes to mimic the human form, look expensive and professionally done.
I’m sitting on a bed covered in a thick, fluffy white comforter.
A bed that’s not mine.
My throat throbbing and burning from my shouts, I croak, “Where am I?”
“In our bedroom,” Jude answers and rocks me some more.
Reminding of what I do with—
“Abel,” I gasp and stiffen. “Where is he?”
Jude’s arms squeeze around me to keep me trapped. “I put him to bed an hour ago.”
My mind goes wild, picturing him taking care of Abel.
“I need to see him,” I hoarsely demand and push at him.
Fearing the worst.
Does Jude even know what to do with a baby? What if he made a fatal mistake? Like giving him pillows or covering him with too blankets?
Sighing, Jude kisses the top of my head then he reluctantly unwraps himself and moves away. “Of course.”
I turn and scoot to the edge of the bed. Putting my feet on the floor, my toes sink down into plush, soft carpet and I’m just about to stand when he pushes something into my hand.
“See, he’s sleeping,” Jude says and nods at what he handed me. “If he wakes up, we’ll hear him.”
I glance down at the video monitor. On the screen I do indeed see Abel sleeping on his back in a crib.
But the crib could be anywhere.
Looking up from the monitor, I rasp, “I need to see him with my own eyes.”
It’s not that I don’t trust Jude…
I do, somewhat.
It’s my stress and instincts demanding I confirm he’s truly safe.
