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“Right. My apologies. You’re correct.”
“Why are you calling me?” Her heart was racing.
She’s in jail. There’s nothing she can do.
“Ms. Ford would like to get in touch with her son, Brooks.”
“Excuse me?”
“She would like to get in touch with him. To call him. Perhaps arrange visitation.”
“You . . . what . . . she . . . huh?” White noise was filling her head so she could barely hear him as he repeated himself.
Didn’t matter how many times he said it. She still wouldn’t believe it.
Why the hell did that bitch think she got to get in contact with Brooks? She wasn’t getting anywhere near him. And was she completely bonkers? Did she really think it was a good idea for her sixteen-year-old to visit her in prison?
No. Nope.
“Ms. Stephenson? Are you still there?”
“I’m here.”
“Do you think you could arrange for Brooks to take some calls from his mother?”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.” The word was fainter than she would have liked. She wished she’d sounded strong. Certain. But it was the best she could do when she couldn’t . . . fucking . . . breathe.
This was what she got for thinking everything would be all right.
Maybe she should be more like Steele. Believe the worst.
“Shouldn’t you talk to Brooks first? He’s sixteen now, he might like to get to know his mother.”
“No. I don’t need to speak to him. Do not call me back.” She ended the call and then placed her head down on the desk.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
Fear had hold of her, though. It made her tremble. Why . . . why was Tanya doing this now? She had never tried to get in contact with Brooks. Not once.
And now, out of the blue, she just decided she wanted to talk to him? What about all the birthdays and Christmases? Had she not thought to call then? What about when Joe died?
Her breath shuddered in and out of her lungs.
“Spitfire? What’s wrong?”
Shit. Why hadn’t she shut the door? And why did Steele have to turn up now?
He’d been in pretty much every day of the last week to try whatever treat she had with her.
Chocolate chip cookies. Lemon bars. Hedgehog slice. All of it.
She’d realized that he had a big sweet tooth. He must work all of it off at the gym because the man didn’t look like he carried any fat on his chiselled body.
