Gaze searching her face, I let both hands weave into that wild mess of hair. “Frankie. I’m going to prove it to you. I promise.”
Dipping down, I sealed it with the softest kiss to her lips.
She exhaled an even softer sigh.
I groaned when I inhaled the girl. “Cotton candy. You really are testing my will, aren’t you, Unicorn Girl?”
She giggled a small sound. “Hey, don’t go blamin’ me. I do work in a bakery, after all. I was just whipping up something new and special. I might have felt inspired.”
Another groan, my stomach twisting up with want. “You’re gonna have to stop with that.”
She lifted her chin, the feisty girl I’d known emerging from that shell she never should have worn. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it, Froggy Boy?”
I pressed myself a little closer, only an inch of fire separating us, our noses close to touching. “I think you really want to find out.”
Her hand was about to fist in my shirt when I felt the movement at the door, and I whirled around to find my son pushing through, completely dazzled that the door swung.
My mom came in right behind him.
“Fi-Fi!” he said, pointing at Frankie Leigh, giggling as he went.
Something passed through her features. Something dark and overcast and still threatening to break with the day. He tottered over to her, and she only glanced at me for a second before she picked him up and pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek. “Hey there, little man.”
“Puppy?”
“Oh, you remember my puppy, do you? I bet he remembers you, too.”
She started bouncing him, walking him around the kitchen, showing off all the things.
Guessed I was getting way ahead of myself because I got the sudden, sharp sense that this was exactly the way it was supposed to be.
Seventeen
Evan
Two hours later, I pulled into the drive of my parents’ house, soaring high. Feeling like I was finally making progress. Like everything was making sense. Everett was conked out in his car seat in the back, pooped from hanging out at the café for a while before the two of us had gone to the park to play.
Just . . . getting to know each other.
Truth was, it didn’t matter that I’d known him for little more than a week. Felt like it’d been his whole life. Like there was no time missing and we’d been destined.
Like he was carved out of a piece of me that I recognized as myself.
I killed the engine and climbed out, going right for the back to unbuckle him. I hoisted him up high on my shoulder, cradling him as I made my way up the five porch steps.
Then I stopped in my tracks.
Breath leaving me on a punch.
Fear and dread and terror taking me hostage.
FREAK.
It was painted in big white letters across the entire expanse of the floorboards of the porch.
I whirled around. Ready for a fight.
I held Everett tight.
Protectively.
A feeling unlike anything I’d felt before came over me.
Could almost feel the adrenaline get dumped into my veins.
Rage and fury.
I tried to breathe, to focus.
Everett’s tiny, chubby body was tucked close, the little pants coming from his nose hitting my cheek while the air stirred with an ominous silence that screamed through the late afternoon air.
A morbid kind of stillness echoed back.
A disordered calm.
I spun in a circle.
Looking for anything.
Anyone.
I stumbled a step when I noticed the note tacked to the front door.
Warily, I moved toward it and ripped it from where it was tapped to the wood.
Game’s up, you’re running out of time.
You and your perfect life.
I’m done standing aside and watching you win.
Fuck you, freak.
I’m taking back what is mine.
Ice slipped down my spine.
Frozen dread.
Spreading. Saturating. Seeping into every cell.
I slowly turned around and faced the echoing vacancy.
I clutched my child.
My son.
The cost and consequences didn’t matter.
I would do anything, give up everything, to make sure he was safe.
* * *
Darkness filled my childhood room. The lamp on the nightstand shed a muted, dingy glow that barely illuminated the space. The glow-in-the dark constellations Dad had put up all over my ceiling when I was ten twinkled from above like we were actually out laying under the stars.
Should lull me to sleep.
But there was no chance I could close my eyes.
I’d texted the number I’d had of Ashley’s from over two years ago at least a hundred times.
Dad had called it almost as many.
Nothing.
I needed to reach her.
Get an answer.
Find out what the fuck was happening.
How could she just . . . up and leave if she knew something was going down? If she knew Everett might be in danger?
Unease slithered across my flesh.
Worst part was this feeling that this was personal. That it didn’t have a damn thing to do with Ashley.
I mean, what the fuck did that message mean? And who would give it if they didn’t want something specific from me?