Tainted Love

by Stacy Claflin

  Alex shook his head. “You can’t clean up after your own party. Leave the kids for a sleepover, and we’ll all take care of this in the morning.”

  “Are you sure?” Nick asked.

  “Of course. But you’re bringing me a mint mocha when you come to pick the kids up.”

  Nick put his arm around Genevieve. “I think we can handle that.”

  The kids said goodbye to them, then Alex brought out the sleeping bags and really did put on a superhero movie. Though none of the kids managed to stay awake until the end.

  Alex checked on Zoey, who was sound asleep with the twins in bed. He was tempted to crawl in, but instead grabbed his pillow to crash on the couch since the kids were in mixed company. Better safe than sorry. Nobody knew what could happen better than him, a guy who’d been an expectant dad at thirteen.

  Even after settling into the couch his mind raced, not allowing him to sleep. He pulled out his phone and checked his email. Still no response from the mommy blogger, nor was there a notification of her responding to his blog comment.

  No surprise there. Not that her lack of response would stop him. He just needed to send more messages until it was impossible to ignore him. Or until she blocked him, which was likely the more realistic option.

  He checked his blog to see if there were any new comments on his post about the mommy blogger. His mouth dropped open when he saw how many comments there were. Not only that, but the post had been shared thousands of times on social media. Thousands.

  A quick look at page views showed nearly a million views. His mind spun, hardly able to believe his eyes. Those were the numbers his dad was used to seeing, not him. His dad’s blog was what had landed him his book deals which had gotten him on multiple bestseller lists.

  Not that Alex expected, or even wanted, any of that. This was just a one-off. And it proved that he wasn’t crazy for insisting something was wrong. Many others saw it, too.

  It was just a matter of getting to the bottom of it and allowing the authorities to dole out justice. Hopefully they would find the boy alive and well, but his gut told him otherwise. If Connor was fine, he’d be in more recent pictures.

  Alex read over the new blog comments and his eyelids grew heavy. But then as he got to the newer ones, he sat up. They were mentioning a new post from the blogger. An explanation.

  What?

  He fumbled over to her site and sure enough, there was a new post entitled My Heartbreak.

  Alex’s heart raced as the page loaded to finally reveal her side of the story.

  * * *

  This post is long overdue. I should apologize for taking so long, but I just can’t. Especially since I feel forced to write this while my precious children are so horribly sick, as I mentioned in my last post.

  The reason I haven’t said anything about my beloved Connor is because it hurts too much. I hate that I have to write about the whole situation now, but so many of you have had questions. Thank you for the kind private messages. They mean the world to me.

  It pains me to admit that Connor doesn’t live with us any longer. Behind the scenes, I’ve been dealing with a heart-wrenching custody battle. The father of my older three decided that he wanted to be involved in the life of only his son. Can you believe that? Just his son! But he’s always been such a “man’s man” that I shouldn’t be surprised. You know the type—hunting, watching football, beating his chest, and everything that goes with it.

  At any rate, the courts saw fit to allow poor Connor to be ripped from the only family he knows—his dad had always been nothing more than a myth before—and forced to live across the country with his father.

  The whole ordeal has ripped me to shreds emotionally. Not just me—the girls, as well. They’re as heartbroken as I am, but they don’t understand why their brother is gone or why their dad only wanted Connor. Unfortunately, I can’t really explain it to them. I don’t want them to hate the justice system or to feel bad about their dad not wanting them just because they’re girls, so what can I say? I just tell them how wonderful they are and how much I love them. If nothing else good comes from all of this, at least they will be secure in my commitment to them. I truly love my girls more than life itself, as I do all of my children. And that includes Connor, Sammy, and the baby growing inside of me at this very moment.

  Some of you will want to know if I’m going to fight for custody again. I will, but not now. Both my funds and my emotions are depleted. Also, my lawyer says it’s best that I wait. He even suggested I keep all this to myself, as posting about our situation might give my ex the upper hand in future custody battles. But you’ve all been curious, and I owed you, and my son, the courtesy of a post.

  And if my ex ever does find this, here is a message for him—you may have won the battle, but you won’t win the war. I will never give up on my children. Not ever.

  Thank you again for all your support. A few people who I confided in before this post have suggested I start an online fundraiser for future legal fees. I’m not going to at this time, and I ask none of you do so on my behalf. I don’t want anyone to think this is about the money. It’s about Connor.

  * * *

  Alex stared in disbelief at his screen. He reread the post twice to make sure he’d read it right. Nothing added up. None of it.

  He searched several keywords and found his suspicions proven right. Prior to this new post, there had been zero mentions of the children’s father. No mention whatsoever of anything to do with custody or court. She carried on with life as normal, taking the kids on outings every day and posting about them.

  If she had been dealing with a custody battle, that would have taken untold time and energy. There was no room in this woman’s schedule for any of that, unless she’d been lying in the posts where she spelled out nearly every moment of their lives.

  There was only one explanation, and it was that her post was exactly what she claimed it wasn’t—a plea for sympathy. She wanted everyone to feel sorry for her and stop questioning her about the missing boy.

  The post’s comments indicated she had a strong following who believed her every word. But the real question was, how many comments was she withholding? How many were full of the same doubts Alex had?

  More importantly, how would they get to the truth?

  At least he had a platform. People would comment on his blog, where they could say their thoughts, unhindered and in the open.

  But first, he would send another email to the mother. He would give her the chance to come clean before he posted another viral message to the world.

  Blocking

  Jess lay Sammy, fast asleep, in his crib and kissed his cheek before raising the side up. None of the kids had puked all day and now they were all sleeping like little angels. She fixed the covers around Sammy before going to the living room and collapsing onto the couch.

  As much as she wanted to go to sleep—maybe she would sleep as well as the night before—she wanted to check her blog comments more. Her post had been so convincing that the first comments were filled with love and sympathy. She’d approved those right away. But it was no surprise that they were positive. The first readers were the ones who were subscribed to her blog. They got email notifications the moment her post went live.

  The real question was if she had convinced the naysayers to stop asking her about Connor.

  Her heart ached at the thought of him. She hadn’t been able to stop the tears as she wrote the blog post. If she’d had her way, she’d never have mentioned him again on the blog. It really and truly hurt too much.

  But not for the reason her followers now believed.

  Jess’s heart sunk when she saw the new flood of comments. Most of them were still negative. Harsh. Unbelieving. They called her a liar and far worse.

  Hands shaking, she not only deleted those posts but she blocked them from being able to comment again. She couldn’t stop them from vis
iting her blog, but she could stop their vitriol in her online home.

  Then she came to one that made her blood run cold. It was from Alexander again, and his message was short. It only read, Check your email.

  She sat up taller. Like there was time for that. Time to worry about one guy out of thousands leaving her negativity. Sure, he seemed to mean business, but he was still just one person. He didn’t know where or who she was.

  Jess blocked him and moved onto the next comment, blocking that jerk, too. Her muscles relaxed. It helped to block the haters. Knowing that that they wouldn’t be able to comment again. If only she could be there to see their faces when they tried to spew their loathing her way.

  By the time she finally blocked all of them, her body cried out for sleep again. Her throat even hurt a little, almost as though she’d been screaming.

  Or worse, she was getting sick. No! There was no time for that. The kids were finally starting to feel better. She needed to get them out and about, to go somewhere fun and get lots of pictures. Write up a brilliant blog post and convince others they were all moving on despite Connor’s absence. Perhaps come up with some kind of proof that he was alive and well. Mention a phone call, maybe. Yeah, that was good. And if people didn’t buy it, that would give her time to think of something else.

  Jess pulled herself up from the chair, went into the kitchen, and took every vitamin she could find. Getting sick wasn’t an option. Not now. Once things calmed down, she could give in to a virus.

  She brushed her teeth then flopped onto her bed, barely taking the time to pull her covers over her. Sleep fog was just starting to take over when her phone beeped. She’d forgotten to silence it.

  Groaning, she felt around for the device. It beeped again. Had to be just out of reach. Maybe it would stay quiet after this and let her sleep.

  It beeped again.

  She sat up, annoyance coursing through her body. Where’d she put it? As tired as she was, she couldn’t even remember putting it down. It beeped again. She found it on her nightstand.

  Just as she was moving the bar over to silence it, she read part of a notification on the screen. It was from one of her social media profiles. From the looks of it, someone had posted on her wall that she was a child killer.

  All fatigue fled. Her entire body went cold. The phone shook in her hands. She needed to change her profile settings immediately. People couldn’t post that stuff on her wall! Her followers would see that.

  Jess’s stomach lurched as she unlocked the phone and clicked on the first notification. A stream of vile posts filled her wall. She’d be lucky to get any sleep from the looks of it.

  By the time she’d removed all the posts and changed her settings to prevent anyone from posting on her wall, a full hour had passed. And she still had several more social media sites to check.

  Why were bloggers expected to be active everywhere? She cursed the whole setup as she checked the next site. Not as many posts, but still a huge mess to clean up and more settings to change. This one would be harder because anyone could tag her in their own postings, and from the looks of it, every single hater was doing just that. They couldn’t tag her if she blocked them, so she got busy blocking as many as she could.

  Once she’d finally calmed that storm, light was starting to come up in the sky. Not only that, but her throat was hurting worse than before.

  Why did people have to be so mean? Couldn’t they see she was just a single mom trying to take care of her kids? They could so easily direct their anger at someone else. Someone who was actually trying to do harm in the world. She just wanted to give her kids a good life. Nothing more, nothing less.

  She absolutely had to get some sleep. It wouldn’t be much after having to block so many posts and comments, but now people couldn’t spew their theories on her blog or any of her profiles. She could carry on, focusing only on the people who supported her. And there were plenty of them. They were the ones who mattered.

  Jess started to close her screen when a new notification popped up. She had a new email from that Alexander guy.

  He could wait. The whole world could wait until she got some sleep. But even then, they would still have to wait. Once she woke up, she was going to find her next baby. That would be the perfect distraction from this whole mess.

  Hashtag

  Alex moved the bacon from the frying pan to a plate and checked his phone again. Still nothing from the mommy blogger, other than the fact that she’d removed scathing accusations from her social media profiles. An innocent person would simply state the truth, put out the fire. Not try to hide any and all condemning evidence.

  “You want me to take over the cooking?” Zoey bounced Laney. “So you can keep checking your phone.”

  He shoved his phone into his back pocket and checked the cinnamon rolls in the oven. “No, I’ve got this. Those kids still sleeping?”

  Zoey nodded. “Except for Hanna. She’s watching cartoons on my tablet.”

  Alex flipped over the omelet. “I don’t know about Ava and Parker, but Ari would sleep until noon if she could.”

  “Sounds like someone else I know.” Zoey winked.

  “Who? Me? My schedule’s off because of the night shift.”

  “I mean when we were teenagers. You acted like sleeping in was an Olympic sport.”

  “Did I?”

  She snorted.

  He checked the omelet. “I wish I could sleep that much again, but it’ll get better as the twins get older.”

  Zoey glanced outside, where her parents were busy with their garden. “Or we’ll get used to rising early and keep it up as we age.”

  Alex yawned. “I can’t imagine that. I’d sleep in if I could.”

  They teased each other for a few minutes before the kids came into the kitchen. Hanna bounced in, saying how great the food smelled. The others trudged in, rubbing their eyes and bemoaning the early morning hours.

  “It’s almost ten,” Alex pointed out.

  Hanna skipped over. “Can I help?”

  He glanced around, trying to figure out what would be safe.

  “I help Dad cook all the time.”

  Alex handed her a packet of frosting. “You can put this on the cinnamon rolls.”

  “Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

  “Don’t put more on the one you’re going to claim.” Parker reached for the coffee pot.

  Alex arched a brow. “Does your dad let you drink coffee?”

  “Yeah.”

  Ariana’s mouth dropped open. “Not fair.”

  “He does?” Alex turned to Ava.

  She nodded. “But he puts so much creamer in, it’s not really coffee.”

  “There you go.” Alex glanced at Ari before splitting the omelet into five pieces and giving a portion to each of the kids.

  They scarfed down the food in a fraction of the time it took Alex to make it, then scattered out of the kitchen.

  Before long, Nick and Genevieve arrived to pick up their kids. Once they left, Zoey handed Laney to Alex. “Can you watch the babies for a while? I promised Ari I’d take her to the store for some girl stuff.”

  Alex’s stomach knotted. “I don’t even want to know.”

  Zoey kissed his cheek. “It’s all part of life. I won’t be gone long.”

  “Take all the time you need. Is Zander still sleeping?”

  She nodded. “Just checked the monitor. I think he’s fighting something off. His nose was runny last night.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on that.” He gave her a quick kiss before heading to the apartment. Laney squirmed to get out of his hold, so he set her on the floor where they had gates blocking off their play area, though they weren’t even scooting yet.

  He checked on Zander, who was snoring because of a crusty nose but was otherwise fine, then he sat at his desk where he had a clear view of Laney trying to suck on a block so big it woul
d never fit into her mouth.

  Alex responded to some blog comments before opening his email. Nothing from the mommy blogger. She didn’t have any new posts up yet, either. Maybe she’d been too busy trying to hide the truth that she hadn’t been able to take her remaining kids anywhere. It made perfect sense.

  He tapped his finger on the desk and considered writing another post. The woman had had plenty of time to respond to his emails. She was ignoring him just like all the comments on her blog.

  The woman clearly had something to hide. Her story about the custody battle was nothing but fiction. She was trying to cover her tracks, hiding whatever happened to that little boy.

  It was time to really put on the pressure. His first post had gone viral. A new one had the potential to do even better because of the momentum of the first one.

  Alex refreshed his email, and still seeing nothing from the blogger, he started a new post. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he summarized the previous post then updated his readers on the new developments.

  After reading it over, it seemed to be missing something. Not any details—he’d gone over those in painstaking detail. No, the post needed some… what? Oomph. That was exactly what it needed. But what would provide the oomph?

  He noticed Laney had fallen asleep on the blanket she was sprawled across. He got up and placed her in her crib, his mind racing for the answer. What was his post lacking? It needed just a little something to give it more viral power.

  Zander coughed and let out a cry. Alex picked him up, changed him, fed him—all the while trying to figure it out.

  Then, just as Zander spit up all over the front of his shirt, Alex figured it out.

  He needed a hashtag. One that would not only be catchy, but would provide a way for people to find each other’s posts and comments all over the various platforms. It would make every post all the more shareable.

  Zander squirmed to be let down, so Alex put him on the blanket. He grabbed the same block his twin had been playing with and tried to put it in his mouth.