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I’d been scrimping for a year, not so I could look good in front of the moms at school—even though almost all of them apart from the ones I was friends with, drove cars that were worth my yearly salary—or so I could drive with AC. No, because my child was in the car. And I needed something safer.
Currently, my child was in more danger than being in a shitty car with no AC. So I’d use the new car fund as a deposit, or retainer, or whatever they needed to get started. If it wasn’t enough, I’d find somewhere to sell plasma.
“I don’t have much but I promise I’m good for it, I can do weekly installments, anything,” I continued, hot flush of shame blooming on my cheeks. I’d never been ashamed of how tight things were with money over these few years. I had left an abusive relationship with barely anything to my name, barely anything on my resume, and managed to make a home for my son and myself. I was not ashamed of that. I was proud of that.
As long as I had enough money to feed, clothe, and house Nathan, plus keep him safe, I was proud of myself.
But I imagined that the money it would cost him to get him safe would be more than I made in a year, judging by these offices and the fact I’d sneaked a look at their previous clients as Keltan had shown me to his office and excused himself for a second. Lexie Decesare, the frickin’ rock star. Numerous famous actresses, big names in the entertainment industry.
I was way out of my depth here, with my crappy Corolla parked down the street, with a twenty-dollar purse with little to no cash in it.
But I’d make it work.
“Money is not a conversation we need to have right now,” Keltan said, interrupting my thought processes. “Our main and only focus is getting your son back to you safely.” His voice was gentle, kind, calming. Not exactly things I would expect to come from a man who looked like this. I glanced to the ring on his left hand. I was happy whoever the faceless wife was had a man like that.
Lance, who wasn’t sitting, was just standing there rigid, dripping testosterone and menace all over the place. But it wasn’t directed at me, I had a healthy amount of experience of what it felt like to have menace directed at me. I wasn’t sure if it was the situation in general, the bruise on my face or just that was his default. I suspected it was the latter, but I didn’t have time or headspace to focus on this man. Instead, I focused on Keltan, who seemed like he could help me. Who seemed the kind of man who had the ability to take care of people.
I did not have a healthy amount of experience with men like that, but I recognized it just the same.
He leaned forward, clasping his hands together on his desk.
It was very orderly, I noticed. If Nathan was here, he’d be wandering around, picking things up, asking what they were and putting them back in the wrong places.
But Nathan wasn’t here.
The cold reminder was so sickening I had to hold my breath so I didn’t throw up the Pop-Tart I’d eaten on the way to Nathan’s school all over Keltan’s tidy and expensive looking desk.
“I’m gonna be honest with you, this isn’t usually our kind of thing,” Keltan said. “We usually pass things onto the police if we feel like they can take care of it or if it gets dicey for our client to circumvent the law. But from what you’ve told me, this isn’t something the police can take care of.” Again his words were even, but there was something in his eyes, frustration, anger.
I understood that, any decent man, decent human being would be appropriately horrified at the fact the police turned a blind eye to abuse and frickin’ kidnapping if the perpetrator had the right job title, right family name.
“I’m doing this because it’s what any decent person would do,” he continued. “I apologize that you haven’t met any of them in what seems like a long time. I’m doing this because I’m a father. I cannot even fathom what you must be going through right now.” The man actually grimaced, his face graying slightly.
I was happy that this child had a father like that.
I was happy that my child had a father like that who was going to be looking for him.
“Now, I heard something on the tail end of what you were telling Lance that I need to comment on,” Keltan continued. “You are a good mother. I don’t want you to question that. I may not know you, but I’ve seen more than enough to see that you’re a wonderful parent. A good parent is one that is willing to fight, pray, beg and do everything in their power for their kid. That’s you. And I promise you that we’re gonna get your boy back.”
