“I had no idea where he took me,” Tori explained. “After we got into the car, he tied my hands and placed one of those sleeping masks over my eyes.”
She paced the small room, wanting to escape the confines of her past, but needing for Antoine and Monique to hear.
“All he did was talk, but it was the words. He gave scenario after scenario of ways to hurt my mom, ways to torture her, ways to kill her. When I cried, he laughed, and the stories became more graphic.”
Tears slid down her face. “He told me that if I told anyone, he’d do it. He’d take my mom, and I’d live with him forever.”
She shrugged. “He had just taken me, so I knew it was possible. When I was exhausted, he’d make me do something to keep me awake—cook, clean. No matter, he didn’t stop talking. He didn’t offer food or drink. He talked.”
“Do you know your mother is highly allergic to nuts?” he whispered. “Selfish bitch. I loved nuts, but there wasn’t one anywhere in that whole damn house.”
“One time,” he explained, laughing, “I added peanut powder to the flour. You should’ve seen the look in her eyes when she swelled up. Don’t worry. I gave her Benadryl and her EpiPen. She survived.”
She felt his breath in her ear. The heat caused condensation to accumulate on her skin.
“You were, what, a year old and I gave you peanut butter?” he grinned. “How she cried and cried, so sure I had killed her baby. Her baby. As if I hadn’t even been there. Cried as she packed you up to go to the hospital. She rushed you to the hospital, and I was still laughing. I knew you weren’t allergic. I snuck you peanut butter before, and you were fine.”
He eased back in the recliner. “I just didn’t tell her. And she didn’t think to ask.”
“Can you imagine the stress of living with a man like that?” Tori inquired, not expecting an answer.
Antoine’s hands flexed. “What else did he tell you, Tor?”
“I can’t.” Tori’s mind rejected any more memories by flaring into a full-fledged pounding headache. “Don’t ask me to repeat it.”
“That’s it.” Antoine took out his cell. “I’m calling the police.”
“Don’t you dare!” Tori glared at him. “I won’t push Richard into hurting Luke.”
Exhausted by her own ricocheting emotions, Tori collapsed on the bed. This time, though, neither Antoine nor Monique rushed to her side. “Don’t you understand? He cut my mom,” Tori told them. “She had all the little cuts on her arm. They healed, but you can tell. What else did he do to her? I can’t risk it.”
Monique cleared her throat, causing Tori and Antoine to turn in her direction. “Honey didn’t tell me you knew about the cuts.”
“After Richard, I became very good at being quiet.”
“Sweetie, Richard never cut your mother.” Monique paused. “You were with him for 24 hours. It was 18 months before she managed to escape for good. It was a lot. She cut herself. She said she dealt with the physical pain better than the emotional.”
Chapter 10
Antoine and Tori shared a look. Tori recognized the decision in his eyes, which had her grabbing his phone and stepping back. “No.”
“He kidnapped Luke,” Antoine countered, “That should’ve had you on the phone with the police the minute you realized it was him.”
“Keep your voice down before the kids hear you,” she warned. “I’m not calling the police.”
“Fine. Then, I will.”
“That’s not your place,” Tori roared. “He’s not your son!”
Monique’s eyes widened as blood rushed to Antoine’s face, turning it devil red.
“Umm, I’m going to gather the kids and take them to my house,” Monique rushed out of the room. “Call and give me an update. Gotta go. Bye.”
Monique, who had an opinion about everything and never hesitated to share it, high-tailed it out of the room and ran down the stairs as if someone had set fire to her feet.
The tick developing in his rapidly blinking left eye, coupled with the rise and fall of his chest, made Tori want to race behind Monique. The front door barely clicked shut before Antoine unleashed his rage.
“Luke’s not my son?” he roared. “Right, because you fucked Teddy, Luke’s not my son. However, when Luke is sick, I’m the only one you trust and the only other person he wants taking care of him. I bought a house that I could barely afford because there was a carriage house in the back and we could be close enough to be considered a family—one family.”
“Christian—”
“Shut the hell up and let me finish!” he snapped.
“I have allowed you to marginalize my contribution to all of the children. I’ve allowed you to try to draw a wedge between the kids and me. I’ve done it all because that’s what you needed.”
He wagged a finger at her. “But it’s done. Those kids are my kids, Luke included.”
“But—”
“I’ve been there from day one,” he snapped, “Crying over the babies that didn’t make it and celebrating the ones who did. And I’ll be there on day 50,000.”
His head tilted. “Hell, even Luke knows that.”
“What does Luke know? He’s 11,” Tori mumbled.
Pride rang through his voice as he recapped the story, “He told Jillian, my last ex, that unless she could prove to be better than you—his mom—she’d be out of my life before they would.”
Antoine reached over and pulled her to him. “Right now, it ends. Uncle Ant is over. These are as much my kids as yours. And you’re mine, too. I’ve been giving you the space to realize it, but you move too damn slow. From here on out, this is our family.”
He released her and grabbed one of the photos on the nightstand, the one with him and the kids. “All that’s missing is you. Did you realize that? All that’s missing in this very happy photo is you. You’re probably frowning in a corner somewhere. From now on, we make decisions together. We make a life together.”
Tori folded her arms. He wasn’t the only pissed off person in the room. But he was right.
“Say okay,” Antoine demanded.
“I can’t think clearly,” she shot back. “I can’t decide. Luke—”
“Say okay!” he demanded.
“You deserve better,” she whispered.
“Maybe. But this is my family and always will be,” he said. “If you feel that badly, stop trying to save me from you and be the version of you that you think I deserve.”
Tori froze as the words settled into her psyche.
Antoine leaned down and kissed her. Lord, she had missed those lips and the feeling they evoked. Her heart somehow knew his love insulated her from a world of pain.
Their kiss deepened as he pushed her toward the bed. He untucked her shirt, and his hands seared a tattoo of fingerprints against her ribs. She arched her back and tugged at his shirt, wanting to absorb his warmth. He fumbled with the button of her skirt until frustration got the better of him.
“Lift up,” he commanded, proceeding to tug at the already torn back slit. That rip might have been a normal noise to some, but to her it sounded a lot like someone had shouted, “Quadruplets.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” she shouted. Placing her forehead against his, she slid her lips along his again. The desire hadn’t left. Common sense dove in at the last moment and saved her. Besides the fact that she seemed to get pregnant if a man breathed on her, she was sure every parental organization in America frowned upon having sex on your child’s bed. It may be a law.
Tori and Antoine shifted until they spooned on the twin bed. She’d waited more than eight years for the chance to rest in his arms again. She was in no hurry to leave. Brushing her hair back, he stated, “You know y’all are moving into my house, right?”
“Antoine,” she tried to organize her thoughts and settle down her libido. “Let’s try going on a date. You know, let everyone get used to this.”
“You,” he stated.
“What?”
“
You want me to give you a chance to get used to this. The kids already have rooms at my house when they spend the night. For them, it’s not a big deal.”
“Antoine, now is not a good time,” she tried again.
He paused, but she could feel his mind turning. “When Luke crosses the front door, the clock starts. You will have one week to pack this house, or I will hire movers to pack for you.”
“When you said we would make decisions together,” Tori pouted, “I thought it would be more back and forth, and less me conceding to your wishes.”
Antoine laughed. “Well, I’ve learned that the slow approach doesn’t really work with you. I’ve evolved my method.” He kissed her cheek and hopped out of bed.
Tori went over to the laundry basket, removed her hopelessly torn skirt, and pulled on a pair of basketball shorts.
“Now about Luke,” Antoine started. Tori’s head snapped up and immediately searched for the phones.
“In the morning, if Luke isn’t back, we’re going to the police. I understand Richard returned you, and so you want to believe he will return Luke. But we don’t know if Richard has changed in all these years.”
Tori nodded. “In the morning.” She wasn’t sure if she agreed, but she’d bide her time now.
Chapter 11
Hours had passed since Richard made the initial call. He’d gone radio silent. Tori paced in the kitchen, sat at the table for a few seconds, and paced again. No sounds penetrated the walls, just the scuffs of Tori’s feet on the floor and the slight scraping each time she sat down.
Antoine tried to distract her by talking, but that was #teamtoomuch. She wanted her son back. Anything else stood such a distant second that it might as well not even exist.
Richard hadn’t called—another mind game.
At 12:01 a.m., a series of beeps on Antoine’s phone alerted them to someone on the property. By the time keys rattled in the front door, Antoine had dragged Tori out of the seat and pushed her under the table. He held his finger to his lips and demanded quiet compliance.
He pulled the Glock from the small of his back, while light footfalls drew him closer to the door.
Tori yearned to ask about the gun. She didn’t allow guns in her house. Annie Oakley, also known as Nanny, must have brought him a gun when she came earlier. Tori could just hug her.
As the doorknob turned, Antoine raised the gun, his stance ready to shoot. Tori closed her eyes, then opened them, realizing she needed to bear witness to whatever happened. As the door opened and the alarm beeped, a child’s foot, attached to a jean-clad child’s leg broke the plane of the doorway. Tori scrambled like a 100-meter star to the door screaming, “No!”
Antoine had already lowered the gun. Five long steps and Tori was at the door, embracing her son.
Her baby was home.
Antoine guided them away from the door, sticking his head out for a quick second to scan the area. All that could be heard was wind whistling through the trees. He locked the door and reset the alarm, then he yanked Luke from Tori’s arms, checking his body for scrapes and bruises.
Antoine set himself up as sentry by the door while Luke eagerly searched behind Tori, “Where are the kids?”
The words melted her heart. He always called his siblings the kids, even though he was only a year older than one and three years older than the others.
“They’re at Nanny’s,” Tori stated, doing her own check of Luke’s body. The only time he flinched was when she grabbed his wrists. Richard had clearly tied him up. But why hadn’t he called? Why had he just dropped Luke off? What the hell did he have in store next?
“Luke, should I take you to the hospital? Do you feel any pain, any pain at all? Your back maybe? Your leg?”
Luke shook his head before asking, “Do you think Nanny would bring Christian and the girls back right now?”
Tori shared a look with Antoine. No way she was letting the kids come here. No telling if Richard was still lurking.
“Tell you what,” Antoine said from his spot near the front window. “We’ll go over to her house, but first, have a seat and tell us what happened.”
Luke hesitated for a moment before he pouted, as if trying to figure out how to get his way. Tori narrowed her eyes. He should know her well enough to know that no one would be leaving until she got answers.
Tori couldn’t keep her eyes or hands off her son. She caressed his cheek. She ruffled his hair. Her jaws ached from the crazy smile of relief. She couldn’t help it. Her baby was home! Hell, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and drag him to her lap like he was still a toddler. He hadn’t allowed that in years.
The house was eerily silent. Not even a hum of electric appliances as the whole house anticipated Luke’s words. He settled into his seat at the kitchen table with Tori occupying Suzi’s beside him. “He picked me up from school, and we went back to his place.”
Words tumbled from Tori’s mouth before she could stop them. “How could you go with a perfect stranger? Haven’t we taught you anything?”
Luke frowned and looked over to the window at Antoine. “When did you and Uncle Ant become ‘we’? You’d dig up a moat around the house and only let the drawbridge down for Christian to come and go if you could.”
Tori groaned, “I’m not that bad.”
Luke glared at her through the side of his eye. “Yeah, if you say so.”
“Does that bother you?” Tori inquired. “I don’t do it to hurt you.”
“I know,” Luke shared as he crossed his feet, tapping the bottom one on the tile. “See, Uncle Ant said we all have something that we are going to need someone else to love us through. That’s yours.”
Tori inhaled and asked the question that had been rattling around in her head most of the day. “Is that why you went with Richard? Because of Uncle Ant, my, my—”
Antoine piped in. “Interference is the word I think you need.”
“Fine. Did you go with Richard because of my interference with your relationship with your Uncle Ant?” Tori returned him to the line of questioning.
Luke’s leg began to bounce more energetically. “I knew he wasn’t a stranger. His picture was in Gran’s Bible.”
Why didn’t he come to her with something so important? “You didn’t ask me about the photo.”
Her mother said more than once that fights with the devil couldn’t be done on earth, you need to give them over to God. Tori didn’t know she meant literally, enclosing a picture of their earthly devil in the good book for good measure.
“I told Nanny I saw a photo with Gran’s stuff of a man with his hand on her belly. You never talk about him. Gran never talked about him. And Nanny started cussing when I asked and then wanted the photo so she could throw it away.”
“But you didn’t give it to her,” Antoine chimed in. “Why?”
No response.
“Luke?” Tori gently prodded, hoping for a reaction.
“Luke.” Antoine’s voice became a bit more forceful.
Luke turned as if looking for an escape. Finally, his shoulder drooped in submission. “I don’t know. We never talk about my father either.”
Tori and Antoine’s eyes locked for a moment.
“Maybe your dad was sorry he left,” Luke mumbled. “Maybe he wanted to come back. Maybe he just needed an in.”
Tori tried to battle back her tears. She pretended to cough to wipe one away. “You should’ve come to me.”
Luke’s dark brown eyes peered through his thick lashes. “You don’t do well with daddies, though.”
Pain exploded in Tori’s chest.
Chapter 12
Breathing became a fight.
Luke rushed over. “Mom!”
Darkness began to encroach on Tori’s vision. Antoine dropped to his knees in front of her. “Slow, shallow breaths. Come on, Tori. Breathe. Breathe.”
Closing her eyes, she worked on slowing the pounding in her chest. Her mother had romanticized Richard, which left Tori vulnerable. Tori era
sed Richard from their lives, which left Luke vulnerable.
Damn, if she could only find the right mix to protect her kids.
She touched Luke’s cheek. “I’m fine, baby. Just a lot of excitement today.”
Finally, she sat up in her chair. Swatting Antoine away like a pesky bee, she asked, “How did you find him?”
Luke bit his lip before admitting, “Online.”
Tori pulled her head all the way back, getting ready for a full rollercoaster of a neck roll before catching Antoine’s eyes. His small shake of his head was the only thing that stopped her, barely. Instead, she counted to three. Twice. “You mean on a social media account that you aren’t supposed to have?”
Luke kept his eyes glued to the table before admitting, “Yes, Ma’am, but only a Snapchat.”
Tori gripped the edge of the table, praying for strength. “You mean the one where the messages disappear?”
Luke merely nodded before rattling on, “He told me about this picture frame. Said you loved it, so I bought it for you. He said he wanted to make sure it was the right one.”
He stared at the table with a slight pout, something he always did when he was wrong and could feel the lecture coming.
“So, he came up to the school.” Tori pulled her fingers through her hair. The man’s methods hadn’t changed.
“I thought he would just take me home,” Luke protested. “I got into the car. He offered me a Dr. Pepper, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, we were at his house with my wrists tied to a chair.”
Tori grasped her son’s arms. The hell with it. She dragged him into her lap.
“Mom!” he shouted, pushing her away. “We talked about this.”
“Fine,” Tori conceded, still fuming.
“He kept talking about how he was going to hurt you—like mean, gross stuff. At first, I was scared. I was like ‘He’s crazy. I gotta get out of here.’ ”
“He kept talking and talking and talking. And then he said—” Luke paused, glancing at the stove. “I’m hungry. Do we have any Ramen noodles?”
Chapter 13
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