“Daddy, I’m hungry.” He stared down at where Kent now stood by his side.
At five, the boy was still small for his age, and still incredibly innocent. Rick thanked his sister for that.
Mona had kept him through the years as he worked, because Sienna was always busy. She had things to do, events to plan, hair appointments or lunch or dinner with her friends. She hadn’t had time for their child any more than she had had time for her husband over the years.
He thanked God again.
“Come on.” He reached out his hand to his boy, gripped his little fingers, and moved to the door of the funeral parlor.
“Is Mommy coming back?” Kent asked as they left the funeral home.
“Mommy’s not coming back, son,” he told him as they walked to the truck parked on the other side of the parking lot.
Kent didn’t say anything, though Rick hadn’t expected him to. As he opened the door to the truck and lifted the child into his car seat Kent looked up at him solemnly.
“Daddy,” he said softly.
“Yeah, son?” Rick clipped the seat
belt around the car seat.
“I’m glad.”
“What?” Rick looked back at him, shock welling inside him once again. “You’re glad of what, Kent?”
Kent stared back at him, his brown eyes, so like Rick’s, somber and suddenly too grown-up.
“I’m glad Mommy’s not coming back.”
Rick could feel the blood draining from his face, felt something in his stomach curdle in fear. What the hell had Sienna done to their child?
“Why?” Rick touched the boy’s thick hair, hoping to dispel what ever memories would have made Kent say such a thing.
“Because she was gonna hurt Miss Brookes,” he said quietly. “I heard her on the phone, Daddy. She said she hated Miss Brookes and wanted her dead and that she was going to strangle her. Just like she strangled my puppy.”
He was going to throw up. Rick swallowed back the bile that boiled in his stomach and rose to his throat.
“Your puppy ran away, Kent,” he told his son.
Or had it? Sienna had hated the dog he had bought Kent last year. Had she done something to it?
Kent shook his head. “She said on the phone, ‘I’m going to strangle her like I did that damned dog.’ ”
Rick didn’t correct the profanity. He could only stare back at his son in horror.
“You didn’t tell me,” he whispered. “Why, Kent? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Why hadn’t his son trusted him enough to tell him, to bring his fears to him?
“Because, Daddy,” he said quietly. “Mommy sent me to Aunt Mona’s, and Aunt Mona promised she wouldn’t strangle anyone. Now she won’t strangle no more puppies, will she?”
There was an edge of fear in Kent’s voice, in his eyes. Rick wanted to howl in fury, and in rage. God help him. Sweet, merciful God, forgive him for letting that monster touch his child after his birth.
“She can’t hurt any more puppies, Kent.” He clasped the little head in his hand, unclipped the seat belt, and gathered him into his embrace. “Never again, Kent. Never again.”
And now, he would have to make damned certain she hadn’t hurt Hannah Brookes, either. Because if she had, that guilt would rest on his shoulders, as well. Because Sienna would have never hated her, would have never focused on her, if it hadn’t been for him.
If he hadn’t watched her when he shouldn’t have, and if he hadn’t been so careless in doing so that Sienna had caught him.