by Linda Kage
Chapter 26
EVA
Two weeks passed.
Pick had been dead serious about no longer paying for my babysitting services. Instead, he set me up with a new cell phone on his plan and found an old car for me to drive around. It ran a hell of a lot better than Reese's. We really were like a married couple, and I'm sure if we'd had the opportunity, Pick and I would've turned into a pair of humping bunnies to boot.
It just figured I'd learn to like sex, right after I became a mom and never had the time for it. What was worse, Skylar got a fever, which scared the crap out of me. After two doctors' visits, and half a dozen different opinions from nurses and other mothers, we finally decided she had a sore throat.
Quarantining her away from Julian was almost impossible, but it did give Pick a reason to set up the crib in the other bedroom so Sky and I could camp out in there while he and Julian stayed in our room.
I never knew having a sick kid would be so utterly frightening. Every cough from my daughter made me frantic with worry. I was so glad to have Pick by my side through it all. His unwavering support sometimes made my chest tight with the overwhelming love he brought me.
But seriously, it'd been three days since I'd last had my wicked way with him, and that was way too long for my liking. Tonight, I didn't care how late he got home from the bar, I was going to stay up and jump his sexy bones so I could go wild animal on him, because I was most definitely in heat.
It was close to the kiddos' bedtime, and we were finishing up my new nightly yoga routine. I was giving both Skylar and Julian some tummy time so they were perfecting the reverse corpse pose and I was in the downward dog when a key in the lock made me yelp, startled.
I knew it was way too early to be Pick, so my mind immediately tracked to my father. The door was halfway open before I realized whoever it was had a key. Ergo, not Bradshaw Mercer, thank God. I started to wonder why Pick was home already when a rough-looking redhead entered.
"Whoa!" I popped to my feet, ready to drag the trespasser into the hall by her scraggly scarlet mop. Instead, she jerked to a stop when she saw me and narrowed her eyes as if I was the one who didn't belong.
"Who the hell are you?"
I blinked. Hey, wasn't I supposed to be the one asking that? And how did a complete stranger have a key to our apartment? Why was she coming inside as if she owned the place?
"Who're you?" I shot back.
"I'm Tristy. I live here."
My mouth fell open. Oh, hell. That was not what I was expecting to hear at all. But . . . wow.
This was Pick's wife? I mean, ex-wife. Annulled wife? Whatever.
My first jealous, selfish thought was that I was so much prettier. But that was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I couldn't help it, though.
"Where's Pick?" When she glanced around only to settle her gaze on Julian, I stepped protectively in front of him. Ugly or not, her looking at my little boy was not cool. A spurt of panic shot through me when I realized he really wasn't my little boy, was he? He was hers.
Oh crap. This just got real.
Pasting on a bright smile, and totally sucking up, I said, "Hi, I'm Eva. The babysitter."
Her gaze sprang back to me. Then it narrowed.
So I nodded encouragingly. "Julian is such a sweetheart. He's been the perfect little ang—"
Her derisive snort cut me off. "You're the babysitter, my ass. I know who you really are." When she took an intimidating step toward me, I lifted my eyebrows. If she thought to threaten me, she better watch out. I didn't take well to threats. "You're the fucking reason my husband got an annulment. You're why he wants to take my baby from me and adopt him for himself. So the two of you can have your perfect little family together . . . with my kid?"
Well, when she put it that way, she kind of made it sound bad. Except we wanted it because we loved Julian. She obviously did not. She hadn't even asked about him or tried to hold him since barging through the doorway; she was too busy being a bitch.
Setting my hand in my hip, I got my attitude on and sent her an arch glare. If she wanted to play the conversation this way, I would so go there with her. I was foaming at the mouth to let my inner overprotective momma come out to verbally bitch slap this piece of work.
"Take your baby?" I repeated. With a dark laugh, I stepped right up into her face. "Lady, you're the one who abandoned him here in the first place. You left him alone in a house with no adult supervision whatsoever. The place could've caught fire, he could've fallen and died, been beaten to death by some . . . burglar who'd found his way in. Anything. But did you consider that? No. You were too busy being a fucking nasty heartless cow." Okay, maybe I was going a little overboard, but I was too mad to think rationally. "You don't have a baby. You do not deserve this baby."
Yeah, I felt all good and jazzed about telling her off and saying what I'd been dying to say to her for weeks. I felt like bouncing on my toes and cracking my neck to the side like some kind of boxer preparing for a big match. I was about to go off on my Pick tangent next—telling her how shitty she'd treated him—when her face turned purple.
"That's it. I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but I gave birth to that kid. And I'm getting him away from you."
"What?" Oh, shit. That wasn't supposed to happen. "No. Wait." When she moved around me toward him, I stepped into her path and grabbed her arm. "You can't do that."
A sick nausea swirled up my nostrils until tears sprang to my eyes.
Tristy yanked her arm out of my hold and pushed me aside. As I stumbled back, she jerked him up roughly. He started crying instantly.
I leapt in front of the door and barred it with my body. "Wait, wait, wait. I'm sorry. Let's just talk this out."
"Get out of my way, bitch." Her eyes were wild. I wasn't sure she was sober. I gulped and called upon every nerve in my body to calm myself. But, oh my God, I'd never heard Julian cry like that before. It made Skylar start to cry too, and I already knew tears were pouring down my own cheeks. I just wanted scoop both my babies up and kick this piece of trash out of my home.
"Just take a breath and think about this. Think about what you're doing to Pick."
She blinked, swayed by his name. So I kept pressing that point. "He has stood by your side your entire life. He has always helped you whenever you've needed help, and you know he always will."
Her eyes were filling with tears now, too. "Oh, is that why he wanted the annulment, then? Why he wants to adopt Julian? To help me? You and that bastard must be pretty cozy if he's told you so much about me. I think he's doing this just so he can keep fucking you."
I ground my teeth, upset she could twist what Pick and I had into something so perverted. But I had to settle down and think of Julian. "You're wrong. Pick is thinking about you. He understands you need your freedom, and he's trying to give it to you. He wants to take care of your baby for you. You left him here for that reason, right? Because you knew Pick was the best person for him. And look, he's taken care of him, hasn't he?"
I motioned to Julian, but he was wailing so hard, I don't think I made a very good point. I continued begging, "The least you can do is wait here and talk to him. You owe him that much." Then, when Pick got here, he'd talk her out of taking our little boy away. I had every confidence in him. What I didn't have confidence in was myself and my ability to keep Tristy here that long.
Both children kept crying. If I went for Skylar, I knew Tristy would escape out the door, so I tried for him. I held out my arms tentatively. "Do you want me to hold him? I can get him to stop crying."
"Get the fuck back." She scurried away from me and shot me a glare. "Don't touch me."
I curled my arms back to myself. They felt empty without him.
"Okay. Let me call Pick, then. I'll call Pick, and you guys can talk." He could fix this. He knew how to deal with irrational women, this one specifically. He could get Julian back.
Indecision crossed her face. But after a moment, she gave a jerky nod. "Okay .
. . okay."
It felt like the biggest gamble of my life, stepping away from the door, but I did it, my legs shaking the entire way. I scooped up Skylar, held her close and sat next to the landline phone. Three finger-shaking attempts later, I was shot straight to Pick's voice mail. My stomach roiled with unease. I left a message, and tried the club next. No answer. So I tried Mason, hoping he might be working tonight too.
Another no-fucking-answer.
Next, I rang Reese. She picked up in four rings. "Please," I sobbed. "I need you."
PICK
It was long, dragging, obnoxiously loud night at Forbidden. Hamilton had the bar with me. He worked with quiet efficiency, so we easily filled our orders. The loud music from the jukebox, and the women dancing with all the men chasing after them was starting to give me a headache. Same damn thing every night. I just wanted to get home to my Tinker Bell and curl up around her, and maybe finally get inside her again. It'd been too long since we'd last done that. Skylar was feeling better, so maybe—
When I saw a familiar face weaving through the crowd, looking intent to worm her way through, I frowned and moved toward Reese just as she reached the bar.
"What're you doing here? Lowe's not working tonight."
"I know." Her blue eyes were large and bright as she grabbed my arm hard. "You need to get home. Right now. Mason's on his way to fill in for you."
The urgency in her voice, the fear in her eyes—I barely waved Quinn off before I was leaping over the bar and sprinting toward the exit.
I made it home in record time. I didn't realize Reese had followed me until I found her at my heels, pounding up the stairs to my apartment.
I shoved the door open as soon as I reached it. Eva paced inside the living room, clutching Skylar to her chest. For a moment, I was relieved to find her unharmed. Then I noticed how heavily she cried in great, heaving sobs. Her eyes were swollen and red, her hair a mess, her face as pale as chalk.
"What's wrong?" I crossed to her and clutched her shoulders in my hands, prepared to kill whoever had upset her. Had Skylar taken a turn for the worst? Or her father—
"He's gone," she wailed. "Oh, God. Oh, God."
"Who . . . ?" I glanced around, realizing Julian wasn't anywhere in the front room. When I turned back, the devastation on her face made my skin prickle with a new kind of horror. "Where's Fighter?"
Squeezing her eyes closed, she choked on a sob and bent forward, crying even harder. "She took him. She came in here and just . . . she took him."
"What? Who?" I shook her, needing her to focus. "Damn it, Tink. What the hell happened?"
"Tristy. She took him."
My fingers tightened reflectively. For a second, I was too scared to speak. Then I roared, "And you just let her?"
She yanked out of my hold and glared up at me, her tears making her blue eyes glitter with an ethereal kind of fury. "Yes, Pick, I just stepped aside and blithely let her stroll in here and take him out without a single word of protest. Fuck you! Of course, I didn't just let her."
She turned away and sought comfort from Reese, who immediately gathered both her and Skylar in a hug. It hurt to watch her seek solace from somebody else, making me realize how harsh I'd been.
Cursing fluidly, I clutched my hair and squeezed my eyes closed. I knew I should apologize, but Julian was gone and I couldn't get past that.
"What happened?"
Since my voice was calmer, she straightened from Reese's shoulder and pushed the tears out of her eyes. "The neighbors called the cops. She and I had yelled at each other and—"
"Yeah, yeah." I waved my hand, irritated. I knew how easy it was to get the police to our place. "What did they do?"
She shook her head, blindly. "They let her take him. What do you think they did? She's his mother. I had no legal right to keep him here. I even told them I'd never met her before in my life and had no proof she was really his mother. But then she supplied proof. I tried to tell them she'd left him months ago; she was unfit. Then they asked about you. I told them you were working, but I couldn't get a hold of you . . . I tried everything. I'm so sorry, Pick." She turned back to Reese, weeping solidly. "I'm so sorry."
"It's—" I wanted to tell her it was okay. I even reached out to touch her back, but I ended up pulling my hand away so I could rub my face instead, unable to get past the fact that my son was out there, with a druggie, doing God knows what. "Jesus. I gotta find them. I gotta . . . " I spun in a circle trying to think. I glanced at the girls, and met Reese's gaze, her eyes brimming with concern. "I'm gonna go find them."
I was out the door and running for the stairs before I fully collected my next breath.
EVA
For the first half hour, I was utterly inconsolable. Reese just held me and let me cry. She tried to take Skylar from me, but I couldn't part with another child tonight. So I made myself calm down enough to let Skylar find some rest in my arms. And that's when I started blubbering.
"It's all my fault. If only I hadn't smarted back to her. Me and my fucking big trap. I pissed her off, and she took my baby. Oh, God. Pick is never going to forgive me." I closed my eyes and tried not to pass out. "What if she hurts Julian? What if she leaves him somewhere else and—"
"Shh." Reese stroked my hair. "Don't even go there, sweetie. Don't let yourself think about that."
"But—"
"No. It's late. You're exhausted. Your daughter is exhausted. Let's get you into bed."
She tried to draw me to my feet from the couch, but I resisted. "No, I can't." I shook my head emphatically. No way could I go back to the room I had shared with Pick for the past few months. "I can't stay here. Take me home."
Reese bit her lip. "Are you sure?"
I nodded. "He must hate me right now."
"I doubt he—"
"I lost his son, Reese." My chin bunched as a fresh wave of tears fell. "Please. Just take me home." Even though her apartment didn't feel like home at all. This was my home.
Reese granted me my wish, and drove me to her duplex. She pried a sleeping Skylar from my arms and laid her gently in the crib. Then she tugged me to my bed and lay down with me. I rested my cheek on her shoulder and stared straight ahead, numb and cold.
At some point, Mason came home from work. Appearing in the doorway, he gazed in at us.
"She okay?"
"Not yet." Reese waved him away and went back to stroking my hair.
"Do you think Pick will find him?" I asked, staring at the far wall.
"I think he'll keep looking until he does."
I closed my eyes. Yes, he would. That thought comforted me as I replayed my last few seconds with Julian. I hadn't even been able to kiss him goodbye. When the police officer finally agreed to let Tristy take him, she'd tried walking out the door without his car seat or his diaper bag. I'd stopped her and piled them on her, every diaper I had, and all the powdered formula he hadn't drank from in over a month, bottles, blankets, everything I could think of, hoping to overwhelm her into giving in and letting him stay. But the cops' presence spooked her too much. She'd strapped everything over her shoulders and ran.
I would never forget the last words she'd said before taking my son away.
After glancing me up and down with a degrading sneer, she'd hissed, "I just want you to know he'll never really love you. You're not his Tinker Bell."
I hadn't been able to resist snorting. "Oh, but I am his Tinker Bell."
But, was I really? I'd lost his son, and that probably destroyed any love he'd ever felt for me. How could he ever forgive me for this? I sure as hell wouldn't be able to forgive myself.
Chapter 27
PICK
Sore, drained, and scared out of my mind, I let myself back into my apartment in the wee hours of the morning. Without Fighter. I had looked in every crack house and heroine den I could think of, trying to find Tristy. I'd never been in tight with that crowd, but I'd stumbled across a few old acquaintances who knew her, and they'd given me a couple ideas wher
e she might be. But every single lead was a dead end.
I had no idea where Julian was or what was happening to him. Thinking about him being hurt, scared, or alone messed with my head too much; I tried to keep those thoughts out, even though they kept crowding back in and nearly sending me into a panic.
I contacted every hospital, asking for either Tristy or him. I'd called every old friend of hers I could think of, asking them to pass along a message. But not even fucking Quick Shot had seen her in the last twenty-four hours.
I'd bombarded her Facebook page. I'd driven around for hours, and even stopped by the police station. I didn't know what else to try. I figured the next move was Tristy's, but I couldn't accept that. I couldn't wait for her to grow tired of him again. She probably wouldn't last long, not by herself like she was. She'd bring him back. Eventually. But even five minutes away from him was too excruciatingly long for me.
God, this hurt.
Needing my Tinker Bell to help ease my broken heart, I stumbled back to my bedroom only to find it empty.
"Oh . . . fuck."
She'd been hysterical, and I hadn't comforted her. Recalling the way she'd begged me to forgive her ripped through my chest. But I'd told her it was okay, hadn't I? Shit, I couldn't remember what I'd said. I'd been too frantic to find my boy. One thing I knew, though, was that I couldn't sleep in my bed without her.
I found myself knocking on Mason Lowe's door at four-thirty in the morning. It took him over a minute to pull it open, but when he saw me, he heaved out a big sigh, shook his head, and moved aside without saying a word. I stepped inside, and he followed me back to Eva's room.
I went straight to her bed and touched her shoulder, rolling her onto her back, only to realize this woman had dark hair. Next to Reese, another form stirred and the hall light made her gorgeous blonde locks glisten. Bypassing Lowe's woman, I reached for Eva and pulled her into my arms. Her lashes fluttered. When she was awake enough to focus on my face, she clutched my arm.