“Daddy, look at Scarlett, she's eating like such a big girl,” I said, hoping he would at least glance over me when he looked at Scarlett.
“Good girl, Scar!” Alex said to her, and smiled widely.
I pushed hard and his eyes closed momentarily. Then as I started to pull my foot away he reached down and grabbed my ankle, squeezing it tightly in his strong hand.
I was so heated from his ignorance and the touch of my foot on him that I needed to excuse myself before I started to pant right at the dinner table in a room full of strangers.
“Excuse me,” I said, quickly pulling my foot from his hand and slipping it back into my heel. I briskly walked toward the bathroom, and once in the privacy of the stall I leaned against the wall and let out a long exasperated breath,
Alex was driving me completely wild. I could drink from his cup of crazy for the rest of my life and die a very happy woman.
Someone knocked on the stall door and my heart jumped.
Addison's voice softly whispered into the space between the door and the wall. “Ry, you in there?”
“Yeah, I'll be out in a sec,” I said, trying to compose myself and pat down the crouching tiger that was ready to claw its way out of my body and unleash raw fury on Mr. Alex Cole.
“Are you okay? You looked upset,” she asked.
“Y-yeah,” I stammered. “Just tired, I guess.” I opened the door and gazed upon the beautiful face of my best friend, even with the crinkles of worry on her forehead—she looked amazing.
“Where did you get that?” she asked, pointing to the scratch on my forehead. It's been covered by my side-swept bangs this entire time, until of course, Alex got me all hot and bothered and I came in here to cool myself down.
“Oh, I slipped in the kitchen early this morning. It was dark, I'm fine,” I said with a smile and a dismissive wave of my hand. “No biggie.”
“You're sure?” she asked.
“Yeah. I'm great, Cole. Now let's go finish dinner.”
Alex's mood had visibly flipped from horny control-freak to concerned lover in my absence. He stood when I moved to the table and waited until I sat before he bent back down in his chair.
“You okay, Ry?” he asked, his eyes full of regard.
“Great, thank you,” I said without looking at him. I turned to Isaac. “How's your dinner, honey?”
Two can play at this game, Alex.
“It's good. If I finish it all can I have some dessert?” Isaac asked, with a cheek full of food.
“Mmm, what kind of dessert would you like?”
“I dunno…Chocolate cake!” Isaac blurted.
Blaine and Addison each order cheesecake and grin amongst themselves while sharing some secret wordless moment.
I didn’t have an appetite for anything else so I passed on dessert, but I did order Scarlett some vanilla ice cream. I slunk slightly into my seat, feeling a cocktail of emotions—I was emotionally and physically tired, torn, unsure, positively wasted now that Alex had started to eat some of Scarlett's ice cream.
He slowly put the spoon to his mouth, upside down, letting his tongue caress the ice cream off the steel. Anything to do with that man's mouth, makes me want to drive my hands between my legs. His eyes moved across the table as he licked a line of vanilla off his perfect lips.
I sat on my hands. Terrified I would become an exhibitionist in the middle of this Buffalo steakhouse. My eyes widened when he looked at me with hooded eyes. I tried to send visual pleads for him to stop or I was going to crawl across this crayon-covered brown paper and give these good folks dinner and a show.
“Whew, I'm tired,” Blaine said, stretching his arms out to the sides. “Big day tomorrow.”
We decided to retire, and I sung silent words of thanks as I was two seconds away from scarring my children for life. I picked Scarlett up from her high-chair and grabbed my purse from underneath my chair.
Chapter Nine
I remember when I was about ten years old, my parents enrolled me into Girl Scouts. I was mortified at the thought of having to wear the outfit all the girls donned, and even more resistant about that silly sash of badges they wore like a medal around them.
“Mom, I hate this,” I said, tugging at the confining uniform.
“Riley, you will have so much fun!” She said, clasping her hands together, trying to get me as excited as she was.
“I won't.”
“You will.” Her face was stoic and getting impatient. “Lillian said Addison wasn't too keen on the idea at first either, but you'll be there together and have a great time.”
“Okay,” I pouted.
I remember how frustrated I was when one of the other girls was able to start a fire with two sticks and a piece of birch bark. I rolled those pieces of wood in my hand, to the point where I thought I was going to come out with splinters, and still nothing happened. I leaned in and blew on the birch—still nothing.
“I'll show you,” Addison had said, taking the tossed sticks and birch bark from the ground. “Watch.”
She had far more patience than I did. She rolled the sticks, and gently blew. Wouldn't you freaking believe it—she started a fire.
It ever so slowly started to crackle the birch, smoke lazily lingered up and eventually an orange plume of fire ignited and lit the bark. Incinerating it to ash.
“See,” she said, smiling.
How that small fire was created and built up, eventually consuming what it was burning entirely, was exactly how I could explain the feeling of watching those men ride on those bulls. It started slow and anticipation crept up, while they were sitting surrounded by steel and straddling about two thousand pounds worth of hamburger.
When that door opened, and they both emerged and immediately lifted off the ground, it was like the first sight of fire. So quickly erupting and finished in mere seconds.
Trace—the man we met at the steakhouse, was up next. I recognized his trimmed beard and pearly smile. The announcer confirmed his identity when he broadcasted his name loudly. Roars of thunderous cheering and applause flowed from the stands. Trace turned and waved.
I held my breath the entire time. All 8.6 seconds, as the timer showed. “Wow,” I said, exhaling. “It's such a rush, every time.”
“I know,” Addison said. “It stops my heart.”
I knew why she was so apprehensive. The last time Blaine did this, he forgot all about her. Can't blame a girl for worrying.
Alex took Isaac down as close as they could get to Blaine, for the best view. I couldn't see where they were, but I did see Blaine when he came out. He climbed up something, then paused for a beat, probably sizing up his competition. From what I could see, that beast was absolutely massive.
Blaine slowly slid down, and lowered his head. A man beside him reached out and patted his back, Blaine turned and smiled. The other man muttered something, and Blaine closed his eyes right before lifting his left hand up with his first tightly closed.
The crowd cheered again, and this time it wasn't just thunderous, it was a freaking hurricane.
Addison didn't say a word, she just reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it so tightly I started to lose feeling in my fingers. She exhaled slowly, and sat right up on the bench, waiting and praying for her husband to make his comeback.
The sticks rolled again, slowly sending up light smoke, and when Blaine and that cream-coloured bull broke out, the fire lit and exploded into a firework. Both of their bodies flew and whipped, and flew some more. I've completely lost sensation in my hand now that Addison has all but squeezed it off my arm.
A buzzer sounded, pulling us from our seconds of fear. The same buzzer that sounded when Trace went past eight seconds.
“He did it,” I whispered, not blinking—not even breathing. “Addy, he did it!”
She finally let go of my hand and covered her mouth, still wide-eyed and watching Blaine after he leaped off the bull and jogged over to a gate, climbing up it and hopping over the other side.
/>
“He said he would be okay,” Addison said. “Jer said not to worry.”
I turned and almost fainted. Did she really just say that?
Addison looked at me. Her face stark white with the tiniest curl of a smile gracing the corner of her mouth. “Riley, you're going to think I'm crazy but—”
“I saw him too,” I gushed, tears flooding my eyes and building at the corners, ready to roll. “Addy, I saw him too! He was in the kitchen, sitting at the table like he didn't go anywhere. He told me that it was okay—that the house was mine. That's really how I got this!” I lifted my hair and pointed to the now healed cut on my forehead. “I passed the hell out!”
“What's happening?” She asked, frantically searching my face for my information. “Did you tell Alex?”
“No.”
“I didn't tell Blaine, either. He probably wouldn't believe me anyway,” she said, raking her fingers through her hair nervously.
Addison's cellphone began to ring, stealing her from our moment of reverie. “Hello?” She said, plugging one of her ears closed with her finger. “Alex? I can't hear you.”
I looked at the screen on my phone, wondering if he tried to call me first. Nope, he didn't.
“Okay,” she said, looking at me with glistening eyes. “Stay right there. We're coming.”
She didn’t say goodbye, she hung up and faced me. “Alex can't find Isaac.”
I smiled, because honestly I couldn’t come to terms with any other emotion. I shook my head. “What?”
“Let's go, he's waiting down there.” She pointed somewhere, but I didn’t look.
“Addison. What?”
She stood and pulled me to my feet with the hand that wasn’t holding Seth.
I picked Scarlett up from the bench and we found Alex.
“Alex, where is Isaac?” I asked, my voice loud and anxious.
“Riley, I'm sorry! He was right here!” Alex said, running his hands over and over through his hair. “He's probably right around here, we'll find him, baby.”
“Isaac!” I called—no, screamed my son's name. “ISAAC, WHERE ARE YOU?”
People walking around us turned to look around for any child; perhaps the one I was currently screaming my lungs out for.
I searched everywhere around me, like a lunatic, lifting tarps and tents, and tablecloths. Opening doors, and looking into the beds of every truck. “Isaac! Where are you, baby?”
Scarlett started to cry in my arms, sensing my lack of control and complete desperation. I bounced her softly and hummed a song, all the while still trying to scan the far too busy crowd for any sign of my son.
“Let me take her,” Alex said as he approached me with Addison and Blaine on his heels.
I glared. “No.”
He's already lost one of my children.
I clutched Scarlett so tightly in my arms, she started to push away from me. “Baby, let's go,” I said to her, walking away fast from them. I found a security guard and frantically told him that my son was lost. I opened my cellphone and showed him a picture of Isaac.
The guard picked up the radio on his shoulder and pulled it to his mouth. “S149 here, at post 819. I've got a missing child. Repeat: missing child.” He clicked off the button and looks at me. “What's the boys name and age, ma'am?”
“He's ten.” I wiped my tears. “His name is Isaac Harrison. He's wearing a blue t-shirt and khaki shorts!”
“Isaac Harrison. Ten years old.” The guard took my phone from me and scanned the photo. “Short black hair, green eyes. Blue t-shirt, khaki shorts. Over.”
Noise buzzed from the radio and as soon as three other security guards arrived, Alex, Addison and Blaine do too.
Addison gave Seth to Blaine, and took Scarlett from my arms. I didn’t even hesitate when she did. I knew at least she would be safe.
Alex reached to touch me but I pulled away, not looking at him. I couldn’t, I was numb.
“Riley, I'm so sorry,” he said.
“Don't,” I hissed.
“What can we do, sir?” Blaine asked the guard that I had been speaking to.
“We will search the grounds—all of us. This is Beau, he'll take you to the central office where you can wait. Nine times out of ten the child will end up there, trying to find their parents.”
We nodded, and I wiped my face. Trying to seem strong, but really I was a complete mess. My insides were crawling and I just wanted to run through the place like a raving lunatic.
“Riley, we'll find him.” Addison wrapped her arm around me, and drew me into her body while we almost jogged to the office we were instructed to wait in. “Isaac wouldn't go anywhere with a stranger.”
“I know,” I said softly. “But, where is he?”
She regarded at me with tears in her eyes and hugged me tight. I looked over her shoulder and see Blaine talking to Alex a few feet away. Alex said something to Blaine, then his eyes meet mine. He cursed and sat down in a chair, frustrated.
***
The next hour was deathly painful. No—just death. There was no sign of Isaac anywhere, even the few cameras they had at these type of things don't even show him. The local police were called after the security guards did their initial search and came up with nothing.
Addison sat with me, through a series of questions from four cops, holding my hand and answering for me when I was unable to speak.
“It's almost lunch,” I said. “He'll be getting hungry.”
“Ma'am,” one of the cops said in a low voice. “We are going to do everything in our power to find your son.”
Addison thanked them and asked what we should do now.
“Go back to your hotel, wait there. We will be in touch,” one of the other cops said.
“You'll be in touch?” Alex said as he approached us.
“Sir, we take these things very seriously. We have a full force searching for your son.”
I snorted. His son.
“Go,” I said to Addison. “I'm going to stay here and look.”
“No, you should come with us.”
“No. Go.”
She frowned, but appreciated she wouldn’t win this battle, so she stood up and took Scarlett with her. Blaine took Addison and our two kids back to the hotel. Alex lingered around the office a little while longer, and I ignored his presence all together.
“Excuse me,” I said quietly, pushing past him to walk outside and restart my search.
“Riley, wait—”
“No,” I said coldly. “I should never have let him go with you.”
Alex's eyes glistened as he was on the brink of tears, they began to roll down his face and his lip quivered. For once, the sight of his mouth did nothing to me.
Nothing but make me want to punch him in it.
“Stop crying and go away,” I hissed.
He wiped his eyes and walked away from me. Leaving me standing alone, amidst the bustle of people, many of whom are looking for Isaac at the now-locked down rodeo.
***
“You're amazing, Riley! I can't believe you're doing this! I'm so proud of you,” Addison said. “Breathe, babe...”
I closed my eyes and pushed a breath through my lips, just as I pushed with all my lower muscles, trying to ignore how much pain I was in.
“So close, Riley. So close, just a few more inches and we'll see the head,” the doctor said.
“Oh, my God! Riley! I see the baby!” Addison squealed and covered her mouth with her hands.
“Great job, Riley. You're doing wonderful,” one of the nurses said, keeping her firm grip on one of my bended knees.
I pushed and gritted my teeth down, praying to God to give me just a little bit more strength to make it a least another minute or two. My knuckles turned white from holding on to the rails as tightly as I could. I swore, not even caring if anyone heard me.
“Okay, one or two more and we'll have a baby!” The doctor looked up and smiled at me over the rim of his nerdy glasses.
“You c
an do it, Ry,” Addison said, wiping sweat-soaked strands of hair off my face.
I collected every last bit of energy and clamped down, closing my mouth and pushing through my belly. I remember what my mother had told me about birth—comparing it to having your car stuck in the snow.
“You just have to keep giving a little gas, rocking a bit, and eventually you'll get over that rut you're stuck in,” she had said.
I also vividly remember words like: “watermelon through a lime hole”.
Eww.
Loud cries echoed through the small room; cries of brand new life wanting to be put back into the warm shell that was home for so long.
“You have a son, Riley, congratulations!” The doctor said, holding up a bloody and screaming baby.
My baby.
Addison started to cry and leaned in to cradle my head with her arms. I stared with a stupid grin on my face at the baby and felt an emotion that was so unexplainable; I don't think I'd ever get it into words.
I was a mother.
I was his mother.
Flowers and balloons filled my hospital room. I should have got a guest book for all the friends and family that came to see my new son, each wildly reacting to his beauty and perfection.
Aunty Marielle couldn't stop gushing over him, while gently rocking him in her arms.
“Have you finally picked a name?” She asked.
“Isaac,” I said with a smile.
“It's perfect. And so his he,” she said, kissing his forehead gently.
My dad acted like he was carrying a bomb in the car seat instead of a baby. He took the tiniest steps and when he finally got the baby to the door of the house, I had already sprouted my first grey hair.
“We'll be celebrating his first birthday soon if you take any longer getting him into the house, Clive,” My mother teased.
“Precious cargo,” my dad said.
***
“Ma'am,” someone said, while I was on my hands and knees looking under a big trailer. “You should go home and get some rest.”
Breathless (Meadowlarks) Page 12
