Silent sobs start to build, memories filling in, little moments. A bright flash of pain at the back of my skull, the feel of the carpet against my cheek, a second smash of pain, the sounds of Evan crying, the feeling that I couldn’t move, the smash of the back door.
It’s him, I know it. I didn’t move fast enough, I got complacent.
Sawyer holds me as I cry in my shame, in my fear, in my pain. He keeps muttering promises vacillating between vengeance and safety; I barely hear any of them.
My baby, I failed. I couldn’t keep you safe, God I’m so sorry.
I don’t know how much time passes as I sit there curled up in Sawyer’s arms, but eventually the tears stop. As my breathing slows from the hiccupping gasps back into a normal rhythm, I settle further into him, no longer holding onto him like a lifeline, but instead snuggling up into him, enjoying his warmth and support. He continues to run his hand up and down my arm in a comforting motion but he’s quiet now, simply resting his chin on the top of my head.
My mind is a mess of tangled living nightmares. There is no doubt in my mind about who has Evan, but I don’t understand how he possibly could have found us. Have I really let my guard down that far? Where did I slip up? How could I have failed my baby so completely?
I fight back the panic I feel rising in my chest again and try to settle, knowing that losing my shit again won’t help anyone. I need to focus, to keep a handle on my racing thoughts until he is safe in my arms again; nothing else matters until then. Once I have my boy back, we can go where no one will ever find us again and we both will be safe. Then, only then, can I let everything go. With a renewed resolve I focus on my breathing and consciously relaxing each muscle in my body, working from my toes all the way up.
When he notices me calming, Sawyer pulls back just enough to gently grasp my chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilt my tear stained face up to look at him. “I promise you Babydoll. We will get him.” he leans in and presses a chaste kiss to my lips. “But right now, I need you to do something for me. We need you to tell us anything you think could help us find him. Tinker is working on leads right now, but anything you can tell us will speed up the search and help us get to him faster.”
I tense at his words. Am I ready to tell my story? Do I trust him enough to give him all of that? I’m surprised by how quickly the answer comes to me and how little it truly scares me. “Anything; anything for Evan.” I say, my voice surprising even myself with the surety in it, offering him a weak smile.
Sawyer leans forward and kisses me again, pulling back and giving me a reassuring smile. “I know Babydoll, me too,” he says, his eyes welling again. “King’s waiting in his office; we can go as soon as you’re ready.”
“Now, I want to go now. I’ve slept enough,” I say, pulling away and unfolding myself from his embrace. Standing, I stretch the stiffness and aches from my joints, wincing against the pain in my neck. I need to tell him the truth, unvarnished and raw. I haven’t really let anyone in since I left, but if I have to let anyone in, I’m glad it’s Sawyer and his Brothers.
Following Sawyer out the swinging double doors and into a wide curving hallway, I brace myself for what’s coming. The infirmary is at the far end of the curved roundhouse that makes up the main building of the compound. I hadn’t been to this end of the building during the party but it’s quite a walk. My mind wanders as we go; I find it hard to concentrate as each overhead light sends me wincing. But that pain is nothing compared to the hollow in my gut from losing my baby. How could I have slipped up so badly? Why did I think I was safe? I adore this man who keeps checking on me as we walk, but can he really protect Evan and me?
“You ready?” he says, stopping at a heavy oak door.
“Yeah…” I say quietly.
This is the right thing to do. I should trust him; it’ll be the only way I can get Evan back.
Sawyer knocks on the door and we pause for a moment before he opens it and ushers me inside with a hand to the small of my back. We enter a well-appointed office; the walls are a warm gray with dark wood trim to match the door. A large solid desk with a leather top dominates the room. In front of the desk are two black leather club chairs and two men are behind the desk.
King and… Tinker?
Everything is fuzzy and I feel like my brain is plodding through a layer of molasses. Names and thoughts coming slow as I take in my surroundings.
Focus girl. You’ve got a job to do.
King is seated behind his desk, hunched over a stack of papers while Tinker reads over his shoulder. Hearing us enter, he looks up and a weary smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Sawyer, Tessa, come in. It is good to see you on your feet sweetheart,” he says, motioning to the chairs across from him. Sawyer closes the door behind us as we move to the chairs. Tinker settles against the back desk, crossing his arms over his chest with a pensive look on his face.
“I know you’ve been through a lot Tessa, but I have to ask some more of you to help us find your boy,” King says, a look of concern crossing his face which turns to steel. “You’ve been keeping things quiet since you rolled into town, keeping things from those who’ve taken you in. We’ve all got secrets, but now is the time for some hard truths. What can you tell us… Bethany?”
I feel Sawyer start next to me, his attention snapping to King and then back to me. I can’t bear to meet his gaze, afraid of the accusation I will find there.
Tinker mumbles under his breath, “Still don’t think she looks like a Bethany.” King shoots him a sharp look and his mouth closes with a click of his teeth.
I take a deep, bracing breath and sit up straighter in my chair, clasping my hands in my lap. I stare down at my hands for a moment before starting my story.
“My name is Bethany Grace Hayes. I grew up in Seattle. I had a pretty great childhood, my parents were still together and in love, my younger sister and I never went through that sibling rivalry thing, and we never really wanted for anything. It wasn’t a charmed life, but a good one, at least on the surface. Our parents were incredibly strict, my father was the Sheriff and wanted nothing more than to present us as the perfect little family, and when things didn’t go that way… well let’s just say his parenting philosophy followed the phrase ‘spare the rod, spoil the child.’ He never beat us, don’t get me wrong, but we learned quickly to mind him and avoid the wooden paddle that hung on the wall in the kitchen.
“In high school, I wasn’t one of the popular girls, but I did well enough for myself, on student council, good grades, in line to get the right scholarships and go to the right colleges. Then I met David; David Lindholm. He was the captain of the football team. No one thought he would pick me over the gorgeous and deeply available head cheerleader or whatever cliché people expect the quarterback to follow. We started dating my junior year, falling fast and hard. He said and did all the right things and being the naive little girl I was, I believed it was meant to. He was my first everything.
“After graduation, I went off to college and David went to a trade school in town. We did the long-distance thing for the first semester but when I was home for winter break, he started talking about how he couldn’t live without me. He said we were soul mates and he couldn’t handle being so far away from me. Looking back now, I know that was never the case, and I always knew, but I was a dumb girl who thought she was in love and who so badly needed to be loved. I transferred schools the following semester to the local community college so I could be back home with him. By the summer, we were living together,” I take a breath, squeezing my hands tighter in my lap to ease the anxiety.