Chapter 3 #3
I kept his cock warm as he drove over back roads I knew so well that I didn’t even have to look up to know where we were. We were almost to a place we sometimes parked when T’s jeans started vibrating right beside my face.
I grunted at the intrusion but made no move whatsoever to fish the ringing phone out of his pocket.
Go away.
His arm lifted, and I wrinkled my nose. “It’s Travis,” he said after glancing at the smartwatch around his wrist.
I pulled off and watched his hips lift so he could grab his phone. Before answering, he glanced at me and laughed under his breath. “You look drunk.”
“I like your dick.”
“Come back over here and get it.”
I glanced at the phone lit up with Trav’s name. “Our son is calling.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
What a perv.
I must really like pervs, though, because I dove back into his lap as though I were starved.
My lips were sliding down over him when he accepted the call.
“Hey, Trav.”
A few moments later, T’s body went rigid beneath me. “What?”
I paused and strained to listen but couldn’t make out what he was saying.
If Trent was rigid before, he was now stone. His entire frame coiled with tension that no man could withstand for long. “Where are you?” he demanded. His low swears filled the interior of the fastback. “Put her on,” he said, gruff.
I sat up, mouth dry and eyes wide at his thunderous expression and tight grip on the steering wheel.
The second Andi came on the line, he exhaled as if trying to bring his level of rage down to something manageable. “Hey, peanut,” he said, voice much softer than everything else about him. “What’s going on?”
I heard the sound of our daughter’s voice over the line, not hearing her words but understanding immediately that something was wrong.
“T,” I said, worry shattering my mellow mood.
He made a sound. “Okay, baby girl. We’re coming home right now.” Pause. “Promise. I’m coming right now.”
She said something else. Is she crying?
Oh, hells no.
“I love you too, peanut. Now put your brother back on,” Trent said gently. As soon as Travis was on the line, Trent’s tone changed, hinting at the anger and worry he felt. “Is London with you?”
Trav spoke.
“Put her on.”
A second later, Trent’s voice went soft again. “Lolo, are you okay?”
London must have said she was because Trent nodded. “Good. That’s good. Do you want me to call your dad?”
At those words, I rushed to pull my phone from my jacket to check the screen. There were no missed texts or calls, which was good, but I pulled up Romeo’s number just in case.
It took everything in me not to shout for an explanation, but I wouldn’t, not while T was talking to the kids.
“All right. Well, we are on our way now, okay?”
“Travis,” he said the second our son was back on the line. “How are you?”
I didn’t blame the kids for calling T first. I would have done the same thing. The man was a rock. Not just a rock but a force field. An entire barrier of fierce energy that made not just me feel protected but our kids too.
“I know, son. It’s okay.” He went on, his voice reassuring. “You did good. Are you okay to drive?”
My heart rate spiked, and pungent fear slammed into my chest. “Trent.”
“You sure?” he asked, then nodded. “Okay. Meet you there. Be careful. If anyone follows you, drive straight to the police station.”
My hand slapped onto his arm and squeezed. “Trent.”
He ended the call and dropped the phone into his lap before performing a sharp U-turn right there in the middle of the road. The engine responded beautifully as he shot forward in the opposite direction.
“What in the ever-loving fuck is wrong with people?” he spat, pushing the Mustang harder with his wrath.
I wanted to demand an explanation. I wanted all the information. But my heart was in my throat, panic swelling my tongue.
“It’s one thing to send bullshit letters, but approaching a child in public?”
Ice formed in my veins. “What?”
His face whipped in my direction, realization dawning. He lifted a hand to wrap it around mine and squeeze. “They’re fine.” He assured me. “There wasn’t an accident. They’re fine.”
“Then why was Andi crying?” I demanded. “Where are they?”
“They’re on the way home from the ice cream place. Trav pulled over after he got them out of there because Andi was so upset.”
He glanced at me from the corner of his eye, and I braced myself.
I blew out a long exhale. “Is this about those goddamn letters?”
Trent’s lips rolled in and then popped open. “Yeah.”
Here’s the thing. There is no bracing yourself for fuckery involving your children. There never was and there never would be. Kids were off-limits. Full stop.
But here’s the other thing… Some people had no limits. Some people would do anything for a payday. Including hurting my baby girl.
“Oh, hells no,” I roared.
The rage. The fucking rage that swept through me was unmatched. It burst in my center with so much intensity that it hit my fingers and toes in record time. The tips of my ears burned, and I fought past the whooshing sound filling my head to turn to Trent.
Trent didn’t try and calm me. There was no calming down a father whose children were being threatened.
“Apparently, she tried to take her. Told Andi she never gave her up and we just took her.”
Black spots swam in my vision. “I will kill them.”
“Not if I get there first.”
“Now’s not the time for your one-upping, Trent,” I snapped.
“I’m serious.”
A heavy hush suffused the interior of the car. His words lacked the poison I used to spew mine, and somehow it made the threat much more lethal. T was an even-tempered guy, laid-back and watchful.
But God help the soul who evoked his anger.
It was so powerful that it made mine feel manageable.
Turning to him, I asked, “How is Andi?”
His tongue slid over his teeth. “She was crying.”
I nodded. “Travis?”
“Shaken but holding it together because he’s with the girls.”
“He gets that from you,” I murmured.
T shot me a look. “What?”
“His strength.”
“He had that before we got to them,” Trent said quietly. “It’s why Andi is alive.” The muscle in Trent’s jaw flexed. “He shouldn’t have to be strong. Not about this.”
“Fuck.” I stared out the windshield, watching the pavement roll by as the headlights illuminated the road home. Trent was doing at least thirty over the speed limit, and when we turned onto one of the main roads, he barely slowed down.
By now, everyone around here knew this car. They knew who it belonged to and where we lived. I wondered how fast the cops would show up, and the thought spurred another.
“We’re gonna have to call the police,” I said quietly. “It’s no longer just pieces of paper.”
I thought of the box at the very top of our closet, buried behind some old blankets, and what was secreted away inside.
Trent made a sound and downshifted. “I need to see them first.”
I nodded, biting back the worry that maybe if we’d called them sooner, this wouldn’t have happened.