CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Liza
After my husband died, I never thought I would find that kind of happiness ever again. My grief didn’t just threaten to swallow me, it made me forget my purpose, who I was, and what the point of living was without him. He had been my one and only.
Slowly, my children pulled me out of that darkness and into the light.
No child should bear that responsibility.
Now I live with guilt because I abandoned my children to grief.
I let it take me from them. I let it blind me from the love I so fiercely feel for them.
So despite their age, I will spend the rest of my life loving and doting on them.
It won’t fix or make up for that lost time, but I will never give up trying.
Now my children fill my life with happiness I thought got buried with my husband.
They fill that void that I once let envelop me in shadows.
I will go to war to keep that, to keep them happy.
It’s days like today that remind me of so much I could have missed out on had I not been pulled out of the empty space.
I have grandchildren, and the little miss fate brought into our lives.
Milly is a force and reminds me so much of how the triplets were at her age.
Full of energy, a driven need to learn, a morbid sense of humour, and seeming older than her years.
Just like my boys had been. And just like them, she tries to hide how much she feels inside, how vulnerable certain things make her feel, but I see them.
I see them so much it’s like a beacon beaming for help.
She scoops up the grains into Bella’s bucket before letting out a heavy sigh. She walks over to the stall, stepping onto the wooden step I kept from when my children were little, so she can reach Bella’s muzzle. “You can’t tip this bucket over, Miss Bella, otherwise you’ll go hungry.”
I run my hand over Bella’s mane with a smile. “I think she’s learnt her lesson,” I assure Milly as I hook the bucket to the stable wall.
“l’m hungry,” Milly whines, which brings a brighter smile to my face.
I would be offended or panicked had a child complained about being hungry in my care.
If the child had been anyone else that is.
But Milly is much like the family that has merged into ours, and has a bottomless stomach.
She’s not long had leftovers from the night before.
She’s still wearing half of the spaghetti bolognaise I heated up earlier on her face and T-shirt.
I pat the back of my jeans, feeling for my phone. When I don’t locate it, I groan, remembering I left it inside. “My phone is inside. Why don’t we see if Summer has your clothes? You can change, and then we can visit the bed and breakfast and see if they have any snacks.”
When I called Malia earlier, there had been no answer so I called Summer instead.
Milly had not only got food down her, but when we were cleaning out the pigs, she slipped into the mud, which is how I managed to get some in my hair, and on my neck and jeans.
It also didn’t help that the heavens opened before we could escape into the barn.
I take her hand as we make our way back into the house, grateful only light drops of rain fall. It’s not far so it doesn’t take us long. I slide off my boots once we’re in the mud room and I smile when Milly struggles to copy the way I did it. “Here, let me help,” I offer quietly.
She sits on the bench that runs along the wall whilst I slide the wellington boots off. The bench holds shoes underneath which has come in handy over the years. The minute we are done, and we walk into the pantry, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, so I pull us back into the mud room.
The one advantage about living in a home most of your life is that you know every sound.
You feel it when one of your children is not where they are supposed to be.
You hear it if they sneak out. You know if something has been taken or been moved in the wrong spot.
You just know. This time, it’s not just a knowing.
I can feel it. I can feel it so much; my hands begin to shake.
I want to sneak out of the back, hide amongst the animals or on the land I could walk around blind on. But the second I scan outside through the glass pane in the door—which is barely concealed by the net—I see movement behind the barn. Two somethings if the shadows aren’t messing with me.
Bella wasn’t acting up.
She was warning us we aren’t alone.
I kneel down, pressing my fingers to Milly’s lips in case she decides to talk.
“I need you to be quiet for me, okay?” She nods as I quickly lock the back door, already picking up on my anxiety.
“When we get to the kitchen, I want you to take the back stairs and go hide in any of the rooms upstairs. No matter what you hear, you do not come out. You do not come out for anyone other than me, your sisters, or if you one hundred percent know it’s one of my sons. ”
She nods again, her eyes wide as her entire body trembles. “I am good at hide and go seek.”
“Good. Now, if my phone is on the kitchen side, I will give it to you to take upstairs. You phone the police and then one of my sons. Can you do that?” Her head jerks in a nod once more, and I quickly bring the small child up to my chest to console her.
No one should have to face all of this so young. “It’s going to be okay.”
Tears pool on her waterline before slipping over, falling down her cheeks. “That’s what Malia told me before...”
I brush my hands down the side of her head when she hiccups quietly. “It will be okay. I promise. Just don’t come out. No matter what, okay?”
Taking a deep breath, I take her hand once more and creep into the kitchen.
The large space that normally feels warm and smells like home, feels cold and looks lifeless.
My phone sits on the table, and I snatch it up on my way to the door hidden by aprons and a few cardigans I keep in here.
The round handle squeaks as I twist, and I’m grateful that the twins think to keep the hinges covered in WD40.
They do it so they don’t think I’ll hear them sneaking out at night.
Or back in. I’ve never been more thankful than I am right now when it silently opens and there’s no sound.
“It will be okay,” I whisper, gently pushing her through. “Remember, stay hidden and be really, really quiet.”
She nods, and only once she begins to make her way up the stairs do I close the door behind her. My breath hitches as I move to the counter to grab a knife. I stop as my hand encloses around the handle because this isn’t just a weapon. This could be used against me.
I step away as the floorboard behind me creeks. I spin around, my heart pounding against my ribcage.
My eyelids narrow into slits, and I hope he not only sees my hatred, he feels it. “This is reckless, Mr Black, even for you.”
He smirks, his soulless eyes boring into mine as two of his men enter the kitchen behind him.
One is slim at the waist, but stocky in the arms and shoulders.
He’s clearly here for the money. He’ll do as he is ordered without a care.
It’s easily read in his posture and his expression.
He’s indifferent to being in a stranger’s home.
The other has a more sinister presence, one that shows he’s going to enjoy doing whatever he’s asked to do.
His beady eyes light up as they run over my body, and I know besides Andrew, this is the man I need to be careful of.
He’s not here for the money like his friend. He’s here for the enjoyment.
“You should have controlled your sons, Mrs Hayes. We wouldn’t be here now,” Black finally speaks.
My ears ring as I remain frozen on the spot, too scared to make the first move to escape.
I need to hold them off until my sons come.
Because they will come. They will come before the police anyway.
“Why are you still doing this? Any sane person would be on the other side of the world by now. I’m assuming with your connections, you could have made that happen.
Or do you really believe you can clear your name? ”
Not even a flicker of emotion washes across his face at my words. “No. I have no plans to clear my name. It’s too late for that. But I can clear my children’s names, and rest assured, Mrs Hayes, my children will not stop until my name is avenged.”
“Then why are you here?” I question, finally taking a step back. “My sons will be home any minute if you are here to say goodbye.”
He laughs, showing the first bit of emotion other than the one he constantly wears.
Evil. “Your sons will be occupied. I have men everywhere. I’m pretty sure by now, your sons are scattered, running straight to their weaknesses.
My men are under orders to take who they can regarding their women, but they are just bonuses.
” He steps further into the room. “And the reason I am here is for... Well, I’m here for two reasons, actually. ”
My heart races as my back hits the counter. “You won’t win. In a short while, you’ll be regretting not running to the other side of the world whilst you had the chance.”
Although my sons have gone to great lengths to make sure he can’t do that. Every connection they can muster, every client Liam has worked for, are under instruction not to give this man aid out of the country.
“She’s not scared enough, sir. Maybe you should give her those reasons,” the sinister looking man announces. His beady eyes are still on me, assessing, looking for weaknesses. I only have one in close proximity and she is safe, tucked away in one of the rooms upstairs. For now.
Andrew’s lips twitch at his colleague’s eagerness. There’s something else there—desire, and it sickens me. “Let’s see if my reasons change her mind. First one is simple. Your sons have files that do not belong to them,” he tells me. “I want them back.”