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Neither of them has a coat on, so I yank mine off. “Here, Liv.”
She stops for a second, looking over her shoulder as I wrap my wool coat around her like a cloak that's on backwards. I snap the top button closed, so it's around her neck and the baby’s entirely covered since he’s huddled against her chest.
“Go on. I’ll be there in a second,” I say.
She doesn't need to be told twice. She continues down the sidewalk as I turn and stalk back towards the end of the street where Aiden and the man ran.
When I round the corner, I see the guy sprawled facedown in the street. There's a big rock next to him, and I realize Aiden threw it at him to knock him down.
I jog over. “Hey, there's something valuable in that backpack.”
I wonder how the contents faired when the rock slammed into the guy. Aiden yanks the backpack off the asshole, practically pulling the man’s arms out of socket.
The guy wails and says repeatedly, “I didn't know he was yours, man!”
There’s thunder in Aiden’s expression, making him six-and-a-half-feet of towering fury. It is this guy’s bad luck that Aiden was with me. I would’ve forced him to answer questions, but the end would’ve been quick. Aiden, on the other hand, becomes brutal when he’s truly angry. Being on the receiving end of that is something any man should fear.
Aiden glances at me. “Is the kid hurt?”
Before I can respond, the guy wails, “I didn't hurt him. I just put him in the box. I swear I didn't hurt him!”
In a low voice, I say, “I think he’s all right. Just shaken up and scared.”
“Get up,” Aiden growls at the howling guy. “Let's go.”
As Aiden grabs his arm, the man tries to resist and break away, but it doesn’t work. Aiden twists his arm into a lock and marches him to the car.
“Drive us to my truck,” Aiden says, shoving the guy in the backseat of Liv’s car and getting in with him.
After I drive them to Aiden’s SUV, Aiden drags him from the cramped back seat. The man is still babbling.
“Shut the fuck up,” Aiden barks.
He shoves him in the back and cuffs him to a steel rod that’s anchored to the side of the trunk space. Aiden rounds the truck and climbs into the driver’s seat. He says nothing as he shuts the door.
Usually when violence is necessary, Aiden and I discuss how we’re going to handle things, but right now, we know we’re of the same mind. This guy has come after Olivia twice. There will never be a third time.
When I get to the house, Olivia sits on the couch with the baby on her lap, checking him from head to toe. He’s not crying anymore. Now, he just looks perplexed.
“He seems all right?”
She wipes her tear-streaked face and hugs him. “I think so.”
The baby tugs at her hair and babbles.
“Want me to open the backpack to see how the dolls look?”
“I don’t care,” she says, rubbing the baby's back.
This is what pure love looks like. When I realized my kid was being kidnapped, the adrenaline rush was heart-stopping. I've only known about him for a few hours. How much more intense must it have been for Olivia who carried him inside her body?
I grimace, recalling the look of anguish and sheer terror on her face as she ran down the street. It’s a good thing Aiden caught the prick and that he’s not long for this world. If I’d had to hunt him down, I might have broken my rule about not resorting to torture for its own sake.
After taking the figurines out carefully, I unwrap them. One is cracked, but the other three are intact. I set them down in a row on the coffee table.
“Rose Red is broken,” Olivia says.
“I know a place in Boston where they may be able to repair it. It’s a Lanley, right?”
