I’m here though and I couldn’t stay away, not when my very own ‘what could have been’ is in there.
I climb the fence and pull myself up onto the balcony, then I freeze. I listen closely and when I still don’t hear a single sound, I press my hand to the window. Would Zeke have fixed it knowing it’s a weak point in his security?
If he didn’t, I can get in, but I will be fucking pissed that he put her at risk like that. I push up a bit on the window and curse under my breath as it moves. Bastard. If anything it glides even smoother now, absolutely no noise as it drags along the track, and stops at the top.
I pull the sheer fabric of the curtain aside and peer into the darkened room. Nothing moves, no sounds, and the house remains completely still. I know they are all home, I watched them come in here, and settle in for the night. Do they sleep that dead to the world? In this unsecured house?
I pull myself inside and again pause as I wait. Nothing. I exhale my breath and move around the room. They changed it, just like I thought they would, and it looks great for the purpose it’s serving.
I touch the chair in the corner set up beside a bookcase, and I bend down to read some of the titles. The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle, many Dr. Seuss books, and an old worn copy of Winnie the Pooh by A.A. Milne. I remember that one when we were kids and how often Sara would read it to us.
There are large plush teddy bears around the room and pictures line the walls. I want to look at them all but I don’t have any time to spare. It’s the lettering over the crib that makes me still in my tracks and try to catch my breath.
Broderick.
Walking to this crib is like the longest trip I’ve ever made, even though it’s a few steps. I have never had my heart beat like this, I have never felt such fear, and for the first time in my life, I’m alive. I see a slight movement in the crib, a little fist shoots up, and the cloth on the arm is blue.
I get to the crib and close my eyes, willing myself to relax. This feels like the one and only moment in life I was meant to live for. The only reason I’m still here walking this Earth is for the little human in this crib. I open my eyes and bend to look in.
So small, so delicate, and so much like Kailey. His skin is paler but his little pouty mouth and slightly upturned eyes are hers. He has dark brown hair on his head and it's long, thick, curly at the ends. I run my hand through my hair as it flops down my forehead and curls at the ends. My heart jumps again. She has a small red pouch tied to the crib over his head. A gris-gris.
I reach in and run my fingers over the soft skin on his cheek, imprinting the feel of it in my brain. I want to be able to relive this moment when I’m alone again. His mouth turns up into an almost cruel looking grin in his sleep and I stand still watching until it fades away.
Could it be?
Then, as if he senses me, his eyes open slowly and he looks up into my face curiously. His eyes. I cover my mouth with my hand to cover the startled noise. Those eyes.
Icy blue like the arctic snow reflecting the sky. Those eyes stare straight into my soul.
My eyes.
Those eyes scan over my face and his brows come together slightly, confused as to who I am. Is he old enough to know I’m a stranger? Am I truly a stranger, though?
He makes a little noise and he grins again.
“Shh.” I put my finger to my mouth and watch as his little hand shoots up.
I touch his fist and his little fingers latch around one of mine like a vice. Then amazingly, I watch as he turns a bit and snuggles into his blanket, still gripping my finger. Just like that he’s back to sleep and I know I’ve spent too much time here.
I pull my finger away and creep back to the window, casting one more look over my shoulder. It’ll be the last one I see for a very long time. Then I’m back out of the window, closing it shut, and my feet back down on solid ground.
“That wasn’t too smart.” The Teacher’s voice says from behind me.
I knew it was too easy. I turn and look at Oliver, a grin coming over his face.
“I guess not. You should probably fix that window.” I tell him.
“Clearly.” He nods. “Find what you’re looking for?”
“Yeah.”
“Now you have to forget it, Landry.” He growls and steps closer.
“I can’t do that.” I shake my head.
“I helped you live, gave you a life away from this, and did everything you asked of me.” He grits out, anger lining his features.
“I know. That was the plan, Oliver.” I point up to that second story window. “But that changes everything.”
He drops his head to his chest and exhales. He has to know that child up there changes our deal.
“I can’t be here with him right now, I know that.” I tell him and watch as his head snaps up. “I need you to raise him tough. Tougher than you and I.”
His eyes narrow and his brow raises.
“Because I will be back one day, not any time soon, but I will be back and I need him tough.”
Oliver begrudgingly nods.
“He’s my son and one day, he’ll know his real father.”
Then I turn my back on him and the most important thing in the world. My very own bolt of lightning.
Acknowledgments
To my family and friends who I hope never find out I wrote any of my books, thank you for dealing with my no shows, complete disregard of all communication, and blatant lies about what I was up to. Love you though.
To my husband and sons who I also hope never read any of my books, thank you for being so self-sufficient and leaving me alone. It was much appreciated and I love you so much.
To Samantha La Mar, first off, thank you for the beautiful cover. Your hard work and dedication to everything you do, sets you above and beyond anyone else. Thank you for accepting me on as your client and always know that I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me grow as an author. Now, let me sit back and watch your ass become famous. Love you.
To my beta readers, Jocelyn, Gemma, and Amber, thank you so much for all the positive feedback and the honest critiques, without you, I wouldn’t have finished this thing. I love you ladies.
To my editor Lori, the amount of shit I put you through and you still come crawling back is sick, you’re sick. Fucking masochist. I love you so much.
To my street team peoples, thank you so much for pushing my teasers and announcements, all the rec’s, and just the love you show. I see it all and I appreciate you guys so damn much. I love you.
To you, my readers, you guys fucking rock. I am so lucky to have you find me and these books. You give me the motivation to open this laptop every day and tap on these keys. I write for you.
I love you.
About the Author
C.A. Rene
The computer screen is my canvas and the keyboard is my brush. Thank you for viewing my masterpieces.
My addictions include coffee, books, and WINE, in that order.
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