5. Ezrah
Ezrah
5
My hands shake as I grip the envelope. God, how the fuck can I take care of a child? I can’t even take care of myself. I try to squish down the part of me that wishes I still had Lucas’s hand on my arm. He’s here to keep me safe, not to literally hold my hand.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he says with far too much understanding, “We don’t need to rush this.”
Except we do. I’m supposed to pick Delilah up in the morning. I was going to bring her here, right into Allen’s clutches. I can’t bear to wait another second, tearing it open with as little thinking as I can manage.
My stomach roils when I see what’s inside.
Even if I hadn’t been able to see Jamie’s face in that sweet smiling child, the words he wrote would have told me everything.
My sweetest,
I’m so happy our little family is growing! I always wished we could have children and now here we are. I hope the thought of the future we have as a family is enough for you to break off this foolish little tryst.
If you walk away now, it won’t be hard to earn my forgiveness. We can leave all this behind, get a little house somewhere in the country with a big yard for little Delilah. Wouldn’t she just love that?
A child needs loving parents and a firm hand. Who better to give that to this sweet little girl than the two of us?
I just know we’re going to be a perfect little family.
I will see you soon my sweetest,
Your only love
Allen
“Fuck!” I throw the letter without waiting to see if Lucas is done reading it. If he’s not he doesn’t reach for it. “How does he know about Delilah? How did he find out so fast?”
Lucas has a thoughtful look on his face, but he doesn’t answer me. Instead, he takes out his phone and dials. “Hey Marcus, sorry to bug you, but I need something looked into real fast,” he says. “Are you up to speed with what I’m working on?” He must get an affirmative because he continues without filling in the details. “Can you take a peek in the babies social services file, and see who they contacted in their search for Ezrah? I think that might be how the ex found him again. Yeah, it sucks. Just text me and let me know what you find. Thanks, man.” Lucas hangs up and looks at me.
“Ezrah, I understand why you want to stay here. It's your home. It must feel like letting him win to leave it, but you can’t stay. Not with her.” He reaches out, resting a hand against my back. “It's not safe for either of you, but she’s just a baby.”
“I know,” my eyes burn. “But I just don’t know what to do. Where will we go? I just ordered all those things for her.”
“Text me the numbers for the shops we went to, go get a shower, and pack a bag. As for the rest, that’s what I’m here for.”
“You’ll take care of it?”
His smile melts my insides. “I’ll do everything in my power to keep you and Delilah safe, I promise.”
I don’t know what comes over me, shock maybe, a moment of weakness, obviously. I fall against his chest, wrapping my arms around him.
He hesitates for a brief moment, and then a pair of strong arms came up to hold me. “I mean it. I won’t let anything happen to you. Either of you.”
For a long time, he just stands there holding me. I cling helplessly to him, as tears burn my eyes and soak through his shirt. Neither of us say anything or move until I calm down and pull back.
“Sorry about that,” I mumble without looking at him.
“Nothing to apologize for.”
I knew he can’t mean that but it’s a nice gesture. “I’m going to go get that shower now. Beatrice’s carrier is in the coat closet. If she won’t let you catch her I can do it when I get out.”
“Don't worry, I’ll take care of it,” he calls after me.
I don’t let myself look back. I don’t want to see him judging my weakness. Alone in the bathroom, I strip down, sinking against the wall to sit on the floor under the steaming hot spray.
After we leave, how long will it be until I can come back, assuming I do come back and Allen doesn’t get what he wants?
A shiver goes through me despite the heat of the water. I reach for the knob and turn it even hotter, letting the steam wash away any thoughts I have.
I sit there until the water starts to cool, only then do I pull myself off the tile and head into my room.
The suitcase I started to pack when the first letter came was still stashed away under the bed and ready to go. I guess on some level I knew this was inevitable.
I go through it with more care than I did that day, checking to make sure I have everything I need. Then I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the door.
My eyes burn. It’s not fair. Not fair that Allen can just chase me from my home, take everything from me, and talk like he’s the injured party.
My unproductive thoughts are interrupted by a soft knock on the door.
“Ezrah, are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine. I’ll be right out,” I say, startled from my reverie.
I come out, bag clutched in my hands.
“I grabbed your laptop and charger. Someone’s going to pick up the things we bought tomorrow morning, they’ll deliver it before we have someone bring Delilah up. Getting Beatrice in her carrier though…” He grimaces toward the small bag where hisses and snarls can still be heard. “What’s done is done,” he holds out his free hand to take my bag.
I let him take it, crossing my arms. “Sounds like everything is dealt with then.”
“I told you I’d take care of it. Are you ready to go?”
I sigh. “Don’t suppose there’s any chance of a coffee run before we set out?”
“Probably not the best idea, but you can go ahead and sleep if you want. I’ll be driving.”
I frown. “You’re not driving my car.”
“You had me drive it earlier. Besides, we can’t take your car. He might have seen the plate."
"Then how do you know yours is safe?"
"We aren’t taking mine either. There’s one waiting for us a block away.”
“We have to walk a block to get to this car don't we?”
“I don’t want to chance us being followed.”
I groan. “Fine but you’re carrying my bag.”
“Yeah, I noticed,” his chuckle sounds hollow to my ears.
I think about reaching out to grab it since I’m apparently such an inconvenience, but growl, "Whatever," before turning to stomp out the door.
I wrap my arms around myself, and we make the walk in silence to the waiting car.
It would actually be a beautiful night for a walk under different circumstances. The moon is high in the sky and the air is comfortable with just a light jacket.
We get into a plain black smaller SUV and drive into the night. It takes Beatrice more than twenty minutes to finish voicing her displeasure. She finally lays down to sleep with a final affronted huff.
“Are you going to ask where we’re going?” Lucas asks now that it’s finally quiet enough to try and have a conversation.
I shake my head. “Doesn’t make a difference. He kicked me out of my home either way, and it's not like there are options for me to choose from. You're going to take me where you're going to take me regardless of what I want.”
“It won’t be for long. When I updated the others at Alden they said they think it's only a matter of time before he does something we can take to law enforcement. Also, it was the social worker who told Allen about Delilah. She was trying to track you down, and didn’t know any better.”
I bite back a laugh, turning to look at this ridiculous man. “You think I didn’t try law enforcement before I left the first time? It won’t stick. It never does.”
“I know it can be hard to get them to listen on your own, and it shouldn’t be, but you have us now. You won’t have to do anything except give a statement when the time comes. It’s our job to advocate for you.”
“You sound pretty confident.”
“I am,” he turns to me and gives an honest-to-god smile. “Until I know you can safely take Delilah home, my job isn’t done.”
I shake my head. Job. Right. He probably can’t wait to be done with me. He probably has more exciting cases he’d rather be working on, like missing persons or murders.
Wait, that's a detective or PI.
“What do your other cases look like?” I pick at a thread on my shirt.
He hums. “I’m pretty new, so mostly it's basic security. Patrolling areas, escorting high-paying clients to and from events, that kind of thing.”
“That’s not what I was expecting.”
“Most people are usually disappointed when I tell them, but there’s not much need for high-speed chases or dramatic fights. Most days are pretty chill and most cases resolve without incident. That’s good though. I like it that way.”
“Hope my situation isn’t too complicated for you,” I scoff.
“It's not complicated. I’m just glad you felt comfortable enough to ask for help and I’m so grateful you agreed to come to the safe house.”
“Things really look that bad?”
“Try not to worry. It's nothing we can’t handle. I promise.”
For now, I turn to the window and let myself pretend he’s telling the truth. It isn’t easy but it’s not like I have any other options.
I must have drifted off somewhere along the way, because the next thing I know, Lucas is shaking me awake.
“You can go back to sleep once we’re inside,” he grins as I grumble, swatting his hands away. “I’ll grab Beatrice and the bags. Go get some rest.”
I stumble through the door almost without opening my eyes and into one of the directed rooms before falling onto the waiting bed. There would be time to look around in the morning. For now, sleep.
I’m in the small familiar room I’d spent so much time in near the end. The walls are peeling yellow wallpaper, and a dingy window in desperate need of a wash allowed a sliver of moonlight a place to push inside.
I hear him come in from work, stomping up the steps. I hold perfectly still and wait. Each creak of the step means he’s coming closer.
There’s the sound of a dark chuckle. The key turns in the lock and-
I wake up with a cry, heart pounding.
My eyes dart around the strange room. The walls are wood paneling and there’s a dark wood nightstand and dresser. The bed is a large four-poster with soft red and green flannel bedding. There are three doors, one on each wall that the headboard wasn’t against. One was a closet, one a bathroom, and the last one was to the rest of the house. A loud crash comes from outside the room followed by a soft curse from Lucas.
Right, we’re at the safe house. I force myself from my cozy cocoon and pull on some clothes.
I emerge into a large open concept living room/kitchen. The upholstery on the couch and loveseat is also red and green flannel. Dark wood furniture is scattered around. There’s a TV stand, coffee table, and bar that separates the kitchen and living area.
Lucas is on the floor in front of a spread of tiny pieces that appear to be in the process of becoming a crib while Beatrice helpfully lays on the directions.
He jumps when he sees me. “Ezrah! I’m sorry if I woke you up. Did you sleep well?”
“I slept fine. What are you doing?”
He lights up. “They dropped off the things you bought so I thought I’d get a head start setting up. We’ve only got until one to get ready.”
“What time is it now?”
“Almost noon.”
“Fuck! Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“I tried a few times. Seemed like you needed your rest. I figured I could at least get the furniture ready on my own.”
“You didn’t need to do that. I don’t think it's in the job description or whatever.”
“I know. I wanted to.”
I turn away to hide from his clear earnest eyes.
“Why don’t you go grab something to eat then you can help me finish up. The kitchen should be fully stocked.”
I hesitate. “Just give me five minutes to find a coffee.”
It did, in fact, take me much more than five minutes, but I did try to be fast. When I come back, Lucas is leaning back to admire his finished work.
I nod at the crib, changing table, and playpen. “Looks great, what's left?”
“That was the last of it,” he grinned.
I smack his arm. “I could have helped.”
“I know, but you’ve got enough to worry about. All I want you to have to focus on is bonding with that precious baby girl. She’s going to be here soon enough anyways.”
If he was annoyed by the lack of help, Lucas hid it well behind a smile that hurt to look at for too long.
I cross my arms, tugging at my sleeves. “Thanks, I guess. How long have you been up?”
“Since six. I was never able to break the army sleep schedule.”
“Sounds like hell.”
“It isn’t so bad. I slept in a little. Usually, I get up for my run at four-thirty or five.”
“Jesus Christ, are you some kind of masochist?”
He smirks. “Not sure if that’s an appropriate thing for us to talk about. We hardly know each other.”
I flush up to my ears, unable to stop images of him on his knees, hands bound behind his back. He looked up at me through long eyelashes, mouth open and willing. I tangled my hands in his hair roughly pulling him onto my-
I shake my head violently. “I’m going to take a look around.”
“Sounds good. I took the room next to yours,” he calls.
I nod in acknowledgment but keep walking.
The safehouse feels more like a vacation home or nature retreat. It’s mostly one big open kitchen/living area with three bedrooms and two bathrooms unless Lucas’s room has one too. Outside is an expanse of forest with a picturesque lake view for a cherry on top. It even has ducks for fuck’s sake.
I finish up my exploration just as a government-issued car pulls up the long driveway. A woman in a crisp shirt and dress pants gets out with a baby carrier.
I race to the front to meet her. Lucas stands on the porch, close enough to keep an eye out but far enough that we have some privacy.
“Ezrah McKallas?” she asks.
“That’s me.”
She holds out her hand. “I’m Sarah Anderson. We spoke on the phone.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“This is Delilah McKallas.'' She held out the carrier. “She’s in your care now. Don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything.”
“You don’t need to inspect the place or ask me questions?” I asked, confused.
“If you were fostering, the process would be different, but Jamie asked for you to take in her child. In these instances, we trust the parent’s judgment. Like I said, call if you need anything, but it's a long drive back so I should go.”
Once the car pulls away, I let my eyes turn to what I’d been trusted with. Inside the carrier, was a small sleeping baby with chubby cheeks and a little pink mouth. She looks so peaceful.
So perfect.
We did the right thing coming here.