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Then she takes a deep breath and fixes me with a very serious expression. Even through the thick glass, I feel the fear and anxiety falling off her in thick waves. She’s going to tell me something big, and it terrifies her.
“Someone is after her,” she says. “Someone is after all of them. I’m not the only one who can sense gifts in others, Pocus. There are people who see them as weapons, see them as an opportunity to gain power in this city. As much as I wish I could tell you my mission to rehome these kids has been purely altruistic, my main purpose has been to protect them and prevent it from happening.”
“Who is after them?”
She seizes up. Whoever it is wants her too. I feel it in her panic. She sobs sharply and wipes at her face. “Sometimes they’re gone before I can reach them,” she says through her tears. “I try so hard to get there first, but he’s already found them.”
“Meredith,” I say sharply, but it’s like she can’t hear me anymore. In front of her eyes is every child she’s failed to save. It eats her alive. Her emotions almost overwhelm me.
“It’s all connected, Pocus,” she sobs. “The gangs, the kids. They’re not only being exploited. Most of them are gifted, and he has them right where he wants them. If he gets his hands on Charlie, he’ll hurt her. He’ll torture her until she does exactly what he wants her to do.”
My stomach clenches. I feel like I’ve gone back in time. I’m reminded of Anderson Grey and the women he kidnapped. But Anderson is long gone. I made sure of that. I’m beyond frustrated she won’t tell me what she knows, but I sense how terrified she is. It’s one thing to run and hide with Charlie on the outside, but she can’t do anything in here.
“You have to promise me that you won’t let the state take her, Pocus,” she cries. “Promise me you’ll hide her. Do whatever you have to do for her.”
“I promise,” I answer. “Meredith, nothing will happen to her. I’ll protect her with the full force of the Ruthless Kings. But that leaves you.”
“Forget about me,” she says sharply. “I’m probably better off in here anyway.”
She hangs up the phone and leaves. A guard opens the door for her and she exits the room, leaving me sitting there with more questions than answers. My head swims with everything she’s told me. She’s been honest. She’s terrified, but she feels safer behind bars. What kind of monster am I dealing with?
I ride back to the house, distracted and agitated. I’ve faced my fair share of assholes and corporate monsters, but the man she describes is one for the books. He’s not just exploiting children, but hunting down kids with gifts and forcing them to do his bidding. The chief of police won’t care. As far as his tiny pig brain can see, he’s caught the person responsible. My hatred for him burns stronger.
When I pull into my driveway, I feel a wave of unease hit me. A deep sorrow emanates from my house. I hear my daughter screaming inside. Shit. What the hell happened now? I wasn’t gone that long.
I walk into the house, and the screaming only gets louder. Daisy is having the temper tantrum to end all tantrums, screaming louder than ever. Nesce and Abigail are with her, trying to calm her down, but it’s no use. My daughter is grieving, and I want to know why.
I notice my wife and sister also have tears in their eyes as they try to calm my daughter. Something isn’t right.
“Daddy, they took her away,” Daisy screams, running to me and clinging to my waist. I pick her up and hold her to me, and she finally quiets.
She cries her heart out into my shoulder. My anxiety rises. Where is Charlie?
“What’s going on?” I mouth to my wife as I hold Daisy tightly and rub her back.
“Not now,” she mouths, looking pointedly at Daisy.
It takes several minutes, but she tuckers herself out. She slumps against my shoulder and her breathing slowly changes. She’s fallen asleep, so overcome by her sadness. It drained all of her energy. I lay her gently on the couch, and Abigail quickly places a blanket over her. We both kiss her on the forehead and slowly creep out of the room toward the kitchen.
Nesce is there, putting on a kettle of tea. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and I hear her sniff several times. Someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on or I’m going to lose my fucking mind.
“They took her away,” Abigail says in a small voice, repeating our daughter’s words. “That man, that awful man showed up at the house with a social worker. They made her pack her things.”
“What awful man?” My senses are on high alert. I already know, but I need her to confirm it.
“The undercover cop. Damien.”
“I fucking hate him,” Evanesce seethes as she pours tea into three mugs. “If he weren’t a cop, Knix would take him out. It would look like an accident. He’d never see it coming.”
“I’m ready to take him out now,” I say humorlessly. “Cop or not, where the fuck does he get off doing this? Baby, what about the documents you forged?” I ask, turning to Abigail.
She shakes her head. “He said he needed to have them verified by the courts. Until he did, she’d have to go to a group home. A group home!”
Nesce and I shudder, remembering our childhood tormentors. Those places are breeding grounds for bullies and “accidents.” Charlie is tough, but she shouldn’t have to be in a place like that.
“We have to get her back,” I tell them. “No matter what, we have to find her and bring her back. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on, but Meredith told me someone is after her. I don’t think any of this is a coincidence.”
“We’ll do whatever you need us to do,” Nesce agrees, bringing Abigail’s and my tea over to the table. “Tell us how to help and we’ll do it.”
