Chapter 10 Grant
GRANT
Iwake up the next morning to the harsh ring of my phone. The sheets are tangled, and it takes me a moment to locate it in the back pocket of my jeans that are still on the floor where April tugged them off last night.
Memories of last night flood my brain, and I smile to myself as I scramble for my phone. April isn’t in the bed, and she must have gotten up already.
I haven’t heard Bailey yet either, which is a relief. I love it when my daughter sleeps in.
I curse as I finally locate my phone, because it’s just after seven, and whoever’s calling better have a damn good excuse.
It’s Tabitha, my case worker from the agency that connected me with Bailey. She’s kept in touch to make sure I’m settling into fatherhood and that Bailey is well cared for. She’s the one who first told me April was back and looking for custody.
This is good timing. I can tell her that we’ve worked it out, that April isn’t a monster, just an aunt wanting a piece of her family, and if I have my way, she’ll be staying here permanently.
“Morning.”
“Grant,” Tabitha barks, which has me sitting up straighter. She’s usually mild-mannered and calm, and I’ve never heard her raise her voice.
“April’s skipped town. We think she might be heading your way to try to take Bailey.”
I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips. They’ve got April down as some bad guy when all she wants is what’s best for her niece.
“She’s here already.”
Tabitha sucks in her breath. “You mean you’ve seen her?”
I’ve done a lot more than see her. I’ve tasted her and heard her moan.
“Yes, she’s…”
Tabitha cuts me off. “Whatever you do, don’t let her near Bailey.”
There’s panic in her voice, and I’m not used to that with Tabitha. She’s been nothing but kind. She was wary of me at first because she wanted to do what was best for Bailey. She’ll always put the child first. So if she’s panicking there’s a damn good reason for it.
A kernel of doubt unfurls in my stomach.
“Why?”
What am I missing?
“She’s desperate, Grant. I couldn’t tell you before because of confidentiality, but the situation has changed. April’s a junkie.”
“A junkie?”
Time stands still for a long heartbeat, and my stomach drops.
She can’t be talking about April. About the kind, curvy woman I’ve gotten to know.
“That’s why she didn’t get custody. She’s an addict and was known to the authorities…”
I don’t hear the rest of what Tabitha says. It makes sense. The dark rings under her eyes, the troubled look, the secrets she was keeping, the way she rubs her hands up and down her thighs when she gets anxious.
But can April really be an addict? She’s been nothing but sweet and kind and gentle. I can’t marry the picture of a drug addict with the curvy woman who’s in my house.
She’s in my house. She’s alone with Bailey.
I race out of bed, almost tripping in the bed sheets, and tear down the hall to Bailey’s room.
The crib is empty.
Panic bolts through my veins, and I spin around and run out of the room.
“Bailey!” I call. But there’s no answering giggle.
“April!”
The house is silent, and I stand in the living room butt naked as fear grips my heart. Baby toys are strewn over the rug, but my daughter isn’t here.
Panic clenches my stomach, and a fear worse than anything I experienced in Iraq crushes my chest.
Where is my daughter?
A giggle has me racing to the window, and that’s when I see them.
April is crouched at the bottom of the slide while Bailey sits at the top. She pushes herself off and gives a happy squeal as she zooms down the slide. April catches her at the bottom, and they both giggle as April hoists her into the air.
I storm out of the house, not caring that I’m naked. The closest neighbors are half a mile away.
“Give me my daughter.”
The smile on Aprils face drops when she sees me, but I only have eyes for my daughter.