Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Max spots me. “Mommy!”
Tricia turns and sees me coming and tries again to push Max through the door, but my girl won’t budge, kicking her legs out to avoid being pressed inside. “I’m your mommy now,” Tricia says through her teeth.
I pull King’s gun and aim it at her head and cock it.
“You’re really going to kill me for taking back my own daughter?” she says with an evil laugh and a roll of her eyes. She’s got her arms around Max as she turns to face me, using her as a shield against a potential bullet.
I see fucking RED. Rivers of red. Motherfucking oceans of red.
“She’s not yours. Never was. You lost that chance. And if you wanted to visit her, there are other ways than to take her during a fucking hurricane from her rightful parents,” I say with every ounce of anger I feel flowing through me. “Let her go, or I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
Max’s eyes are trained on mine and less frightful than they were when Tricia was trying to shove her into the car. Because I’m her mom. Because she knows I’ll make it all okay. Because she trusts me.
I will not let you down, I say to Max with a silent look.
“Such language around the child,” Tricia says, pulling Max closer to her and then lifting her up into her arms. Max struggles against her, but she holds her tighter. “Shoot me, and you risk shooting her,” she says triumphantly.
“Why?” I ask, lowering my weapon so it’s not aimed at my child. “Just tell me, why are you doing this? It doesn’t make sense. After all this time.”
Tricia’s smile fades. “He…he wants children. He won’t marry me because I can’t have any more.” Her smile returns, and she jostles Max in her arms. “But I’m going to bring him my child, our child. He said we can be a family, and we’ll get married, and everything will be okay.” She looks to Max whose big eyes are still trained on me. Her voice is softer when she repeats, “Everything will be okay,” she says as if she’s trying to convince herself of her own lie.
“Even if you could get her in that car, the water has risen to the top of your tire. You can’t drive her out of here. The roads are closed and flooded. The bridge is down.”
“There’s always a way. Mothers always find a way when it comes to their children.”
Yes. Yes, they do. At least, that we can agree on.
“So, this is your idea of motherhood? Taking her from her loving home so she can be payment for the life you want for yourself? By risking her life in a storm so you can live out some distorted leave it to beaver dream?” I shout as rain pelts me from all sides while I look for my next move. I have to get to Max without risking her getting hurt, but I’ll have to wait for an opening. A movement. Anything.
“My idea of motherhood is being a mother to my daughter,” she replies.
The water is continuing to rise. I can see Tricia struggling to stay on her feet as it rushes by her.
“No, you’ve got it all wrong. Being a mother is about the crazy shit that you’d do for yourself it’s about the crazy shit you’d do for your kids. Besides, whoever this mystery guy is, he’s using you to get what he wants. Think about it. He knows King would do anything for his kids, including giving up control over Logan’s Beach. It was in the demand letter you delivered yourself. You were never going to have her because it’s not what he really wanted. He wanted the money. He’s been playing you this entire time, making you believe it’s about family when it’s only ever been about one thing. Greed.”
Tricia is about to reply when a surge of water like a wave in the ocean washes over them. Max screams as the water sweeps her out of Tricia’s arms, and they are both lost to the current.
“No!” I scream, choking on the rain in my throat.
Without thinking about anything but Max, I rush forward and dive in, letting the rushing water carry me toward my daughter.
Because fuck it.
Fuck this life.
I’ll gladly give mine for hers. Right here. Right now.
Not just gladly. Enthusiastically.
Because as long as she lives, and she will live, my life is a small trinket to trade in exchange for such a return.
I try to float above the water but every so often my foot catches on something that pulls me under. When I emerge, I’ve lost sight of Max, until I hear her scream again. I glance in the direction of her voice and see her hanging onto a piece of wood that looks like the top of her swing set. I don’t fight the water. There’s no point. It’s too fast. Too strong. Instead, I make myself as wide as I can, spreading my arms and legs in hopes that it will hook onto the playset. If I can just get close enough. I calm my breathing even as my daughter's screams grow louder, and my every instinct is calling on me to try and swim to her.