Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I was scrambling up, one hand yanking my pants back into place, and the other grabbing a super cute bear porcelain figurine Aurelio had come home with one day, excited because it matched Judah’s bedspread.
I hated to sacrifice him, but I grabbed it with both hands as I came over Warren’s body, and slammed it downward with everything in me.
“Warren!” Denny’s voice called even as the bear crashed into his boss’s skull. “We have to go!” he yelled. “They’re coming!” he added, tearing up the stairs.
I scrambled away from Warren, who was conscious, but just barely. Rushing across the hall, I made my way into the bathroom, grabbing the top to the toilet tank, and bringing it back into the hall with me, using my body to block the door to Aurelio’s bedroom as Judah wailed inside his little locked room, likely terrified, and my heart cracked for him, even if I knew I had no choice. I couldn’t go to him. Not yet.
“No!” Warren roared as Denny tried to peel him off of the floor. “My son,” he added as Denny’s hands grabbed his boss by the jacket, pulling him backward as Warren tried to rush at me.
“We’ll get him back,” Denny said, his cold eyes glaring at me as he made that promise. “But not today. There’s not enough of us tonight,” he added, dragging Warren down the stairs.
“You bitch!” Warren growled, eyes wilder than I’d ever seen them, his teeth bared, making him look every bit the monster I always thought he was. “I’m coming for him. And then I’m going to wrap my hands around your throat and watch the life leave your eyes.”
His threat was tempered a bit by the fact that he was actively being dragged down the rest of the stairs as he said it.
I didn’t rush inside to my son.
I didn’t dare lead anyone to him.
In case this was a trap. Or Warren broke free from Denny.
I stood there, the ceramic lid raised, ready to strike out.
Adrenaline was still rushing through my veins, the sound of my heartbeat thumping in my ears, muffling, but not completely blocking out Judah’s cries, and the little slams as his hands and fists hit where he knew the door was located, but was unable to get it open from the inside.
Did he have enough air in there?
It was okay.
He’d be okay.
So long as he was crying, he had enough air.
As much as my heart was in tatters at the sound of his fear and confusion.
This was for his protection, I reminded myself. It wasn’t forever. It was better for him to endure ten minutes of crying than a lifetime under his father’s thumb. Without me.
Because that threat of Warren’s wasn’t hollow.
If he ever got close to me again, he would kill me. There wasn’t a single question in my mind.
The sin of taking his son from him was bad enough. But he might have let me live, just to torture me by taking Judah away from me.
But scratching him? Hitting him? Making him fall and get hurt?
That was unforgivable.
I wasn’t naive enough to believe it would be as ‘quick’ or ‘easy’ as strangulation, either. There would be torture first. Hours and hours or days and weeks of it.
Before he finally put me out of my misery.
Then took my son for himself.
“I’m sorry, baby,” I whispered as Judah’s cries got louder.
My lower lip wobbled and tears stung my eyes.
But then there were the sounds of footsteps again, making me yank the lid up in my hands, ready to swing, to bust someone’s head open, if necessary.
“Claire,” a familiar voice said before my mind could even focus on the face of a man who’d saved us more than once now. One who I knew would continue to do so.
The lid fell from my hands, cracking in half as it hit the floor.
But I wasn’t even paying attention.
I was turning to twist the doorknob, then throwing open the door.
I rushed into Aurelio’s bedroom, ripping open the closet door, flicking on the light, then running to the back corner.
My arms shot out, swiping the shoeboxes out of the way as the suits hanging overhead blocked my vision.
But I didn’t need to see.
I knew where the handle was.
And on the other side, my baby was screaming and pounding for help.
I yanked the door open, then pushed my hands inside, grabbing my baby, and pulling him out, crushing him to my chest as I fell on my ass on the closet floor, crying with him.
“It’s okay. You’re okay,” I assured him as the tears poured down my cheeks, as my whole body shook as the adrenaline started to leech out of me. “I’m sorry, baby,” I added, voice catching on a sob as I pressed my face into the side of his head. “I’m sorry. It’s okay. I’m here.”