Then the interview jumped, and suddenly, Rodney sat next to his mother, his shy smile filling the screen. He’d talked, the words coming slowly, his enunciation careful. The surgeries were working magic for him, removing the impediment he’d suffered through since being so brutally mutilated by a hateful man.
The reporter had touched on the anonymous rescue, Astrid having done her job of ensuring the child arrived safely at the hospital in Aurora without giving anything away.
When asked about who rescued him, Rodney’s answer hadn’t changed from the beginning. “An angel,” he’d said repeatedly. “My guardian angel.”
At the end of the interview, the reporter asked what Rodney would say to his angel if he had the chance. The boy had stared straight into the camera as instructed and then laid it out for everyone to hear.
“I’d say I’m glad Aldo didn’t hurt you. I’m glad you found me. You saved me.” His voice thickened, and he paused, the video capturing each expression change from pain to fear, to gratefulness. “Thank you for saving me.”
Validation for the lives they chose to lead couldn’t be more profound and powerful than that single statement.
Thank you for saving me.
If able, she imagined each of the children they’d set free from the hell of captivity would echo the sentiment. A chorus of unneeded gratitude, but it truly amplified her desire to keep going.
She remembered the way Rodney’s mother’s arm had curved around him, pulling him close. He was her child, born from her body as Lila had been Alace’s. His mother accepted him, no matter what had happened. She’d counted herself blessed to have him back and loved him wholly.
“No matter what, I’ll always love you.” Lila had gone to sleep, a trail of milk on her cheek. Alace resettled her own clothing and grabbed a cloth to gently wipe her daughter’s face. “To the moon and back isn’t enough. I’ll love you forever and ever.”
“Need some help, beloved?” Alace smiled as she looked up at Eric. “My mother texted, said perhaps it was time for you to rejoin our party.”
That’s the kind of love I want to give back. All-consuming, never-ending, fully supporting, enduring, and stalwart.
“Want to carry our daughter?” She lifted Lila slightly, and Eric’s arm slipped underneath, raising Lila to his chest. He reached out with his other hand, palm up in an offer she didn’t need but would take. He pulled her to her feet and then tugged so she fell against his side, his arm firm around her waist.
“I’d love to,” he responded belatedly and smiled down at her.
“I love you.” She watched for the reaction and wasn’t disappointed. His cheeks lifted, corners of his eyes crinkling, and his mouth spread wider. She loved how he easily accepted her words as truth but never took her love for granted.
“Alace.” That use of her name carried so much emotion, two syllables fraught with fear and love and hope and belief, Alace found herself blinking hard as her eyes welled.
Fucking, fucking Eric.
Chapter Fifteen
Kelly
Owen sat close to Alace, but Eric was closer, his arm around her shoulders an ownership statement Kelly still found amusing. They were quietly chatting as they watched where he sat across the room. Shiloh was perched on the floor at his feet, head down, hair hanging on either side of her face, the shining sheets of hair a shielding curtain from the world as she flipped through the picture book in her lap. Kelly was scooted far back in Doc’s favorite chair, Lila Sue on his lap, his arms around her holding carefully, feeling as comfortable as if he’d done this a thousand times.
He ended the soft song he’d been humming for the baby, then lost sight of the adults as he bent to press a tiny kiss to the little girl’s head. It was calm in the room, the adults seemingly happy to watch him and Shiloh.
Kelly kissed Lila again, then quietly whispered, “I won’t let anything happen to you, ever. I’ll protect you from the bad monsters. Promise.” He lifted his head and stared across the room at Owen and Doc, the men he’d slowly become comfortable calling Dad. They both made it easy to hope this thing that felt like family was sturdy and wouldn’t go away.
Built from broken pieces, they were so much stronger together. No addiction would come along to whisk away the love he believed they had for him and Shiloh.
The muscles in his face relaxed, shifting from a scowl into something far lighter, trusting the peace they’d given him was secure. He knew Lila had the same from her parents, a never-ending source of love the little girl would not once have to question. Still, he reassured her, “There are no bad monsters here.”
Spoken over the baby’s head, directed at where Owen sat with Alace, he hoped his intent was clear.
Kelly understood they were monsters, but he was placing his faith in them. Owen and Alace might feel underneath everything that they had become like the monsters they hunted, but he wanted them to know the people who loved them could learn to live with it.
There were good monsters, too.
Epilogue
Bend, Oregon
She cowered against the wall just inside the swinging doors where the ambulance driver had told her to wait. Outside in the hallway, she heard a voice, deep and thundering, asking where his wife was. She knew that voice. Intimately.
The crowd of medical professionals surrounding the gurney in the center of the ER treatment room parted, and for the briefest of moments, she could see the face of the woman on the table. Lips tinged a dark and terrible blue, but apart from that, they could have been twins. Shining gold hair on the woman’s head echoed on that of her own, and the child nestled on her hip.
He was not quite three years old, head pillowed against her shoulder, asleep despite the bustle and noise surrounding them. Voices called out incomprehensible numbers and acronyms, things she could only imagine the meaning of as alarms sounded from multiple pieces of equipment.
The thundering voice drew closer, and she tightened her arms around the boy.
One man, a doctor based on the deferential way the other medical staff treated him, looked up at a clock mounted high on a wall.
No. The thought echoed through her head. She’d watched enough daytime TV to know what came next, and her knees threatened to buckle.
An arm, rigid as a band of steel, circled her waist, holding her upright. Heat pressed against her back, and a muttered, “There you are,” resonated through her. Butterflies in her chest took flight, breaths coming fast and hard at his proximity.
“Time of death…”
She blocked out the rest of what the doctor said, his red hands taking up most of her attention. With a towel handed off by one of the others, he wiped the color away as he walked towards them. His gaze fastened on her face, and she imagined he could see something was amiss. Something more than the death of the only person who’d ever loved her. The only person in her life she could trust. The man behind her shifted, and that look fled, a solemn mask settling into place instead. “We did everything we could.”
“We know you tried your best.” The blades of his words scraped at her control, leaving bloody furrows behind. “Death comes for us all.”
She must have made a sound, because his arm tightened around her with a warning pressure. He shook her once, rattling the boy awake, his cries joining hers.