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“That’s a good thing.” I placed my hand on top of his, the warmth of his skin soothing my nerves a little.
“Things were decent for a few years. Not great, but it seemed we were making progress. Rick even talked to me like a human being and spent some time with me. As far as I could tell, our relationship was getting better. I had hope that he’d really changed.”
My pulse hammered against my wrist as I listened.
“Days after my thirteenth birthday, Mom left for a ten-day business trip. That morning, when I got ready for school, I had a shitty feeling something was off. I figured some TV show or shit had triggered me. Plus, Mom hadn’t been gone that long before, so I assumed I was simply overreacting. I went to school and forgot about it … until I got home.” Cole turned away from me, but I hadn’t missed the pain that coasted over his face.
Panic seized my chest and impatience jetted through me as I waited for an answer. “Take your time, Cole.” The second the words left my mouth, I wanted to scream. I hadn’t meant one word. I needed him to hurry up before I died on his bed of a goddamned heart attack.
He looked at me again. “Promise me something, baby.”
“What?” I should be comforting him, but I was rooted in place.
“Remember that I love you no matter what.” Moisture pooled over his eyes, and tears welled in mine. His thumb gently stroked my thigh, attempting to soothe me before the darkness arrived.
“I will.” My voice cracked with my words.
“It was nearly seven in the evening by the time I got home from school. I’d had football practice and we’d run late. I strolled into the house and dropped my pads and helmet in the entryway. Rick normally had dinner made, but that night I didn’t smell anything. I searched the living area and kitchen but didn’t see him. After calling out his name and not getting a response, I went upstairs. A sound came from his and mom’s room, so I walked that way. The door was partially open, so I walked in …” He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze full of so many emotions I couldn’t grasp what he was feeling.
“Rick was sitting at the end of the bed with my gun beside him. I should have fucking run, but what I saw next paralyzed me.”
I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip so hard I tasted blood.
“He had a tiny baby in his arms … feeding her.” He shook his head as if to clear his mind from the agonizing memory. “I was so stunned I just stood there. Mom sure as hell hadn’t been pregnant. And the sight of a man that had beaten me holding a baby so gently … It fucked me up.” Cole placed his free hand on his stomach and winced.
“What do you need?” I asked, leaning forward. “Advil? Tylenol? Prescription pills? What can I do?” I realized my barrage of questions wasn’t aimed at his physical pain as much as it was meant for his emotional turmoil. Seeing him destroyed like that nearly gutted me.
“I’ll take something after we’re done,” he gritted out.
“Okay.” I should have forced the issue, but I needed to know what had happened.
“Anyway, Rick nodded to the chair in his bedroom. It was then that I realized one of Mom’s dresser drawers was open, and her soft sweaters covered the bottom. Finally finding my voice, I asked whose baby it was. Rick explained that it was a friend’s daughter, and he was helping out for a few days. That should have been my second clue that something was wrong. The gun had been my first. Once Rick had finished feeding and burping the baby, he placed it in Mom’s drawer. She was so tiny, there was plenty of room. The dresser was sturdy, so I wasn’t afraid she would fall. Rick picked up the pistol and slipped it into the waistband of his jeans. He ushered me downstairs where he locked the doors and closed all the blinds and curtains. The rest of the evening, he pretended like everything was normal. He watched television and took care of the baby.” Cole released a sarcastic laugh, then winced.
“He carried the gun for the two days he took care of her, and I wasn’t allowed to leave the house. Rick never touched me, but he made sure I saw the pistol during those forty-eight hours. The mental games were torture. I was terrified I might do something wrong, and the fucker would shoot me. I locked my bedroom door at night and slept with one eye open. The baby crying also kept me awake, which was okay since I was waiting for him to kill me in my sleep. I wanted to check on her, but Rick never left her unattended unless I was with him. After the weekend was over, I went to school like I always did, but Rick made it really clear that if I breathed a word about the baby, he would end me.”
“Why is this fucker still alive?” I spat, seething with anger about how Rick had physically and mentally tortured Cole, then escaped prison.
A growing sense of apprehension hung in the air.
“I’m still trying to figure that out.” He shoved his fingers through his hair and continued. “During English class, the teacher asked me to make some copies of a worksheet she needed to hand out. Happily, I made my way to the office. When I got there, the teacher’s lounge door was open, and several teachers were watching the TV. The copier was slower than shit, so I started the machine, then moved closer to find out what was worth everyone’s attention. The entire world came to a halt as I stared at the television banner scrolling across the bottom of the screen. The guy from the news was explaining the situation, too. My brain began to register the words kidnapped, missing, dangerous. Then, they showed a picture of the baby. It was her.”
Unable to stop myself, a horrified gasp escaped me. “Oh, Cole.”
“Rick had stolen the baby from the hospital, Shae. The cops didn’t know it was him, but all the pieces tumbled into place. I’d never been so terrified in my thirteen years. I knew I had to turn him in, and if I was wrong … if I was wrong, I understood that my life was over. He would bury me alive and dance on my grave as I struggled to breathe.”
“He’s sick. Why would anyone steal a baby?” I wiped the moisture from my cheek, not realizing I’d been crying.
“After the cops questioned me and Rick was arrested, I learned my father was an integral part of an organized crime syndicate. He stole babies and sold them on the black market.”
A waterfall of emotions washed over me as I stared at him without blinking. There was no way I could have understood what Cole had told me. “Sold babies?” I sucked in a breath, my shoulders shaking. Rick MacBride’s blood ran through Cole’s veins. And now, the monster in the closet had revealed itself. Rick was a psychotic sociopath. Cole had warned me all along, and I hadn’t listened. My stomach churned with the revelation.
“Mom was sick when she saw the news of Rick’s arrest and took the first flight she could schedule. My best friend at the time had let me crash with him until she got there. It was then that I told her everything—how Rick had broken my jaw, cut me, burned me, and terrorized me for years.” Cole ground his molars, and he briefly looked away. “I’ve never experienced so much pain in my life. I was powerless to help Mom as I ripped her world apart. She’d done everything humanly possible to take care of me, love me … and she came home to … Hell.” Cole glanced at me, tears in his eyes. “I love my mom, and I’ll fucking never hurt her like that again.”
It was then that it hit me. Cole might have Rick as a biological donor, but he was not his father. Cole had a mean side, but he felt the emotion deeply if he loved someone. I suspected that any time he allowed someone close to him, Cole was afraid he would hurt them like he had his mom, and it stabbed him in the heart all over again.
“Cole, you were a kid, and in no way responsible for your father’s actions. None of it was your fault.”
Cole’s chest rose and fell with his slow, careful breath. “The only good part of this story was that I put that son of a bitch in prison. I testified on the stand in front of him and an overflowing court room full of reporters. Every seat was filled, and people were standing against the wall. No one told me for sure, but there were a few guys there that glared at me the entire trial. I think they were members of the black market and were trying to intimidate me. Mom received death threats, and she had to pull me out of school for a while. The teachers were cool and let me get shit done at home, so I didn’t fall behind. As soon as it was over, Mom packed us up and changed our last name. She didn’t want my father to overshadow any opportunities we had to move on. But the bastard is back and wants to end me for putting him away. Clearly putting him in prison hasn’t stopped him,” Cole ground out through gritted teeth.
