Chapter 31
“I’m so sorry, Brooklyn. So sorry. I didn’t know,” Ellie said for the one-thousandth time.
“It’s my fault.”
And it was. All of this was my fault.
I hadn’t thought about it. With everything going on I didn’t think to take Kiki off Remington’s pick-up list.
It never occurred to me Kiki would kidnap my son.
Jesus.
Remington was kidnapped.
My hand went to the wall for balance but my legs still buckled. But at least I landed on my knees and not flat on my face.
“Brooklyn! Oh my God!” Ellie screamed and I closed my eyes against the sound.
Too loud.
Everything was too loud.
Blood was whooshing in my ears, my heart was pounding, and I was so dizzy I thought I was going to vomit.
Why wasn’t Kiki answering her phone?
Why did she take Remy?
Where did she take Remy?
Yep. I was going to puke. On my ass in the director’s office of my son’s preschool, I was going to vomit.
“Trash can,” I groaned.
The pail appeared in front of me and without caring that Ellie was standing there, I lost my breakfast.
And while that fun thing was happening a commotion happened all around me.
I heard Rhode. I heard Wilson. I heard Letty.
And my stomach revolted at the sound of their voices.
Why? Their voices were carrying down the hall of Remy’s preschool on a Thursday afternoon when my son should’ve been buckled in his booster seat in the back of my car, and Rhode, Wilson, and Letty should’ve been at work.
But they were here and Remy was not. And I was on my ass on the floor puking my guts up.
Some mother I am.
“Jesus Christ,” Rhode growled.
Then I felt him behind me, his thighs bracketing my shoulders. One hand gathered my hair, the other brought the trash can closer.
“I got you, Sugar, get it all out,” he cooed.
Raging mad to gentle in a split second.
He did that for me. Seeing me losing my shit, Rhode was giving me what I needed. I would’ve been elated if I wasn’t so scared.
“Let’s give them privacy.” I heard Wilson’s voice boom. “I’d like to see the footage of Kiki picking up Remington and the sign-out sheet.”
Feet shuffled and the door closed.
“I think I’m done.”
Rhode pushed the can away and stood. Then I was up in his arms like a groom would carry his bride. Only, I wasn’t a bride; I was a horrible mother.
“Bathroom?”
“Down the hall on the right. Yellow door.”
The next thing I knew Rhode was setting me on my feet and I heard water running. My mind was so cluttered with other thoughts that Rhode wiping my mouth barely registered.
“Hey, Brooklyn, what are you doing here?” Ellie smiled.
“Picking up Remy.”
“But Kiki already got him. She said you were running late.”
Kiki already got him.
Got him.
And no matter how many times I tried to tell myself that Kiki Welsh, the little girl I rode bikes with, camped with, the girl whose hair I braided, and knees I’d helped clean up after a fall would never hurt Remington, I couldn’t quite believe it.
That girl might not hurt my son but the woman she’d become might. The woman who’d come to my house and spewed nasty hate that night. The woman who’d lost her hold on the anger she felt for me might.
“Baby, I need you to tell me what happened.”
My head jerked back as I pulled back into the present.
“It’s my fault,” I admitted. “All my fault. Kiki’s on Remington’s emergency card and pick-up list. I never took her off.”
I watched Rhode close his eyes, the movement slow and pain-filled, like that small task of lowering his lids hurt him deeply.
When they opened the pain was still there. So was the anger, and I wondered if he’d ever forgive me. Not that I’d ever forgive myself.
“Listen to me.” His biting tone sounded like a snarl. It boomed and ricocheted around the small bathroom then hit me with the force of a slap to the face. “This is not your fault. You’re not responsible for Kiki’s actions.”
“But I—”
“I don’t give the first fuck Kiki was on his pick-up list. That doesn’t give her the right to pick him up without permission.
Don’t take this on. Don’t make this about you when it’s about her.
An APB has been put out but since we don’t know what kind of car she’s driving that’s incomplete.
And an Amber Alert has been initiated. Detective Brasco says it takes about thirty minutes to get those pushed through the proper channels and sent to cell phones.
Letty, Michael, and Tallulah are giving the police the names of everyone they can think of that knows her and would let her stay with them.
We’ve got the ball rolling; we’re gonna find him. ”
I nodded because I couldn’t speak.
“Okay, Brooklyn. Here’s what happens next. We’re leaving. Tallulah’s staying at her house, Michael’s going to your old house, Letty’s going back to the bookstore. If Kiki shows up in one of those places someone has to be there. You’re coming with me to the office.”
I didn’t want to go to Rhode’s office.
“I want to go out and look for him.”
“Where?”
“What?”
“Where are you gonna look?”
“I don’t know.”
Somewhere. Anywhere. Everywhere.
“Right. Driving around aimlessly gets us nowhere. That’s not how this works. We plan, we investigate, then we recover. I don’t want you out of my sight so you’re coming with me.”
Recover.
Sweet Jesus.
My son needed to be recovered.
“Breathe, Brooklyn.”
I inhaled. Then I did it again. After that, I pulled my shit together. Remington didn’t need me puking my guts up or hyperventilating. He needed me strong, so Rhode could concentrate on finding him and not taking care of me.
“There she is,” Rhode whispered.
“Who?”
“That fierce woman I love so much. Let’s get out of here and find our boy.”
Yes! Let's do that.
“I’m ready.”
Rhode tossed the paper towels in the trash and grabbed my hand. With our fingers laced together and both of us squeezing, looking for strength, he pulled me out of the bathroom.
By the time we made it to the front of the preschool, Michael and Letty were gone. Davis was pacing, Reese looked murderous, and Wilson looked impatient.
“Let’s go,” Wilson barked.
“Got the footage?” Rhode inquired.
“Yes.”
The ferocity of Wilson’s answer slammed into my chest.
White-hot anger was rolling off these men and in my current state that gave me the strength I needed.
My phone ringing on the desk sounded like an atomic bomb going off in the room. The percussion of the blaring noise sent a shockwave through me, the force of it leaving me immobile.
Kiki’s name lit up the screen and I still couldn’t get my heart to beat.
“Brooklyn!” Davis snapped—literally snapped his fingers in front of my face. I blinked. “I’m gonna put this on speaker. Keep her on the line as long as possible.”
I nodded, Davis answered the call then I croaked, “Kiki,” my voice pained and tortured to my own ears.
Where was Rhode?
As if my heart conjured him up, he strode into the room, eyes wild, lips two white lines.
“Where’s Remy?” I managed to get out.
“No cops, Brook. Find Desi. Tug wants back what she took. She’ll know what he wants. When you have it, call me back.”
Find Desi?
No cops?
Call her back?
“Where’s my son, Kiki?”
“You’ll get him back when you get what Desi took.”
“Kiki—”
“Shut up and listen to me,” she hissed. “Hurry the fuck up and find Desi. He said not to call again unless you have it.”
“Kiki?”
Nothing.
“Kiki?”
“Baby, she hung up,” Rhode told me softly.
No! No, no, no.
“Does Tug know Desi’s in custody?” Davis asked.
“Who’s Tug?” I probed.
No one answered.
There was commotion all around me.
Rhode gave my shoulder a squeeze, his mouth pressed against the top of my head, then I felt his presence move away.
There was more talking.
I didn’t hear what was said.
Too kind for your own good.
Michael was right. For years and years, I’d given Kiki the benefit of the doubt. I never wanted to believe she was a bad person. I’d loved her, I’d trusted her, I’d fucking made excuses for her shitty, selfish bullshit.
I’d been wrong. So wrong. Deadly wrong.
The bitch was the fucking Devil.
Hate unfurled inside me. It invaded, it saturated, it infused itself in my heart. And for the first time in my entire life, I wished death on another human.