43. Gabby
Gabby
Lila pats my leg to get my attention. She points to the left.
Nikolai is running toward me, with Luke in his arms.
Luke.
My baby.
I throw open the door and run to them.
“He’s okay,” Nikolai says before he passes him to me.
I crush him against my chest, sobbing into his hair.
“Mom.” His voice is so small.
Nikolai is behind me, pressing his body against my back as he propels us forward and into the SUV. I ignore all safety rules and hold Luke in my arms, cradling him against my body as I sit in the back seat.
The SUV speeds away. I kiss the top of his head, his cheeks, and his nose. He’s alive. I don’t see any blood. Nothing looks broken.
Luke grunts. “You’re squishing me.”
I realize he’s been pushing away from me, and relax my grip.
I pull back to look at his face. “Did he hurt you?”
Luke shakes his head. “The man had a bad voice. Too loud.”
My throat closes. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”
“Nik got me.”
I nod. “Yes, he did.”
I look over at Nikolai, who’s sitting in the other seat. He’s staring at both of us. He’s not stimming. Not moving. Simply staring but not seeing.
I reach over and touch his arm. “You got him. Thank you.”
I take my first real breath since Nik called me. “You’re safe now. We’re going home.”
Nikolai looks at me, and I see him coming back. “He’s okay.”
I nod. “He is.”
Luke is pressing his face against my neck. He’s trembling. I’m trembling. We’re falling apart and holding each other together.
Nikolai rests his hand on Luke’s back, a steady presence.
“Nik?” Luke’s voice is muffled against my shirt.
“I’m here.”
Luke pulls back to reach for him, and the sight of them together nearly undoes me. Not jealousy but gratitude so complete that it hurts.
Nik holds out his arms, and Luke goes into his lap.
Now I’m really crying. Joy. Relief. Everything I’ve been holding in finally breaks loose.
I watch them hold each other, communicating in their special way. I love these two boys of mine with my entire being.
At the estate, we go straight to Luke’s room.
“He needs clean clothes,” Nik says. “And a bath, with bubbles.”
“That can wait.”
“No. It can’t. I promised him.”
I look at Luke. He’s exhausted, with deep circles under his red-rimmed eyes. And then, I smell it, and understand. Nik would understand why Luke needs that bath. Potty training Luke was far easier than I expected. His little mind couldn’t tolerate the idea of being wet.
I want to cry over what my baby went through.
But I have to be strong.
I smile. “Hey, that’s right! You got new bubbles.”
“I need to check on things,” Nik says.
I get Luke in the tub and bathe him, checking again for injuries. I find a few bruises from where the bad man squeezed his arm, but he’s otherwise untouched.
The horrible things I’d imagined were all wrong. He’s safe. Physically unharmed. There will be a lot more therapy and counseling in his future, but we’ll get through it.
I’m just putting him in his new jammies when Nik returns with a cookie and the weighted lap pad from the playroom.
Luke’s favorite blanket sits on the floor in the pile of soiled clothing. We’ll be burning that fucking thing, too. We’ll get him a new blanket. Exactly the same, but with no bad memories attached.
Luke takes the cookie, eats, and then Nik picks him up and carries him to bed.
The sun is just rising. Luke was gone for less than twenty-four hours, but it felt like years. My perfect boy. Home.
I don’t know if I’ll ever let him out of my sight again.
I kick off my shoes and stretch out on one side of him. Nik looks at me with a silent question. I see the toll the last twenty-four hours has taken on him. He’ll never be able to tell me with words. I get that, but I know what he needs.
I scoot Luke closer to me, making just enough room for Nik’s large body.
Nik takes off his shirt and shoes and carefully slips in on the other side of him. I reach across Luke’s body and touch Nik’s arm. His eyes meet mine.
“You got him,” I say. “You did nothing wrong in any of this. None of this is on you.”
“I should have…”
“No. Don’t you dare take this on. You saved us, Nikolai Sokolov. More than once.”
“I want to tell you…” His voice is hoarse.
I shake my head. “Not now. You put that away like I know you do. When you’re ready, you’ll tell me what happened. All I need to know is that he’s here.”
He nods, and the pain in his eyes undoes me. I know it’s probably not the healthiest coping mechanism, but I know Nik. I know he has to compartmentalize to survive. Talking about what he saw in that house won’t help him.
It’s cramped and uncomfortable, but I don’t care. My son is between us, safe and home.
I stare across Luke’s sleeping figure at Nikolai. His eyes are on Luke. Everything he’s never been able to say is written on his face.
This is his son. Not by blood, but by choice. By love.
And I love him for it.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He looks at me. “For what?”
“For bringing him home. For keeping your promise.”
“I said I would.” His thumb strokes Luke’s knuckles. “I will always keep him safe. Both of you.”
I believe him.
For the first time in my life, I’m not planning my next escape. I’m not looking over my shoulder or checking exits.
I’m home.
And I will never run again.