Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
But I beat him to it.
“What’s going on here?” I whispered to him. “I thought that the brown-headed one with the green eyes was her father.”
Audric.
The one that’d brought the formula and the breast milk with him earlier.
Finnian snorted. “That is a long story.”
“I can’t wait to hear it,” I whispered. “I’ve seriously been racking my brain trying to come up with the answer. I have nothing else to do but to obsess.”
He leaned backward, bumping me with his thighs as he slouched down low in his seat.
He was careful not to disturb the baby as he did.
“Long story short, Audric wasn’t the father. Gunner was—he’s the one that’s holding Lottie,” Finnian answered. “I have some good news.”
“What?”
He showed me his phone. “I found the baby’s father.”
Relief hit me like a physical blow. “Oh, thank God.”
“Bad news is, the dad’s a piece of shit.”
My heart kicked. “Oh, no.”
“Like, the biggest piece of shit that I’ve ever looked into in my life,” he continued. “The woman was headed toward a compound in East Texas that specializes in helping women who are abused to find new homes. New lives. She’d boarded the plane, but never made it to them.”
“And if the ex finds out he has a kid, there’s no way in hell that kid is going to live.”
I blinked at the large man with salt and pepper hair filling the door.
“Um.” I hesitated, unsure if I should say more.
But Finnian stood up and walked toward the man, offering his hand. “Sam, I’m glad you could make it.”
“Glad we could finally meet in person, but wish it was under different circumstances,” the salt and pepper-haired man grumbled, his eyes coming to me. “You’re Dru?”
I nodded.
“Thanks for helping.” He looked worried now. “I have to talk to you about something. You’re not going to like it, but I hope that you’ll agree to go along with our story, because otherwise this man is going to kill this little kid, and we won’t have a legal leg to stand on to get him back.”
I felt my belly somersault. “What do you need me to do?”
Eight
If someone gives you $1000 because you’re ugly, would you keep the money?
—Text from Cutter to Apollo
APOLLO
“Can you tell me what happened?”
The official-looking man nodded his head, his face grim as he asked his questions.
I told him the modified version of the truth, leaving out any mention of the infant that Sam had left with earlier.
“And that’s what happened in your recollection as well?” the officer asked.
He wasn’t with any of the name-brand companies like the FBI or the CIA.
He was with something for the aviation commission. Or something I hadn’t caught because I was overly exhausted.
I needed a nap in the worst way, and the man in front of us didn’t think we needed one.
He was uncaring about what had happened to us. He only wanted us to repeat, over and over, what had happened.
Lucky for us, we’d been pretty much on the same page.
The only snag in our stories, however, was not telling them about the baby.
We’d lied our little heads off about that.
I still had the iPad of the woman.
We’d taken the bottle with us.
The only physical evidence that there had ever been a child present was a single diaper that we’d left on the counter at the home that we’d commandeered for the night.
There was no way that we could make it back there, either.
Emergency vehicles were everywhere, blocking the path into the destruction.
To get back, we’d have to sneak in, and we weren’t really interested in doing that.
Hopefully no one really thought to check that house.
And the owners who did their inspections overlooked it.
“Yes, sir.” Dru leaned forward and covered her face. “I’ve been at this for two hours with you. I’ve told you everything I know. I need a break.”
“Just a few more…”
“No!” Dru snarled. “I’m done. I’ve not slept in what feels like two days. I’ve been through a plane crash and a tornado. I haven’t even had a hot meal yet. I have to pee. My entire body hurts. My eyes feel like sandpaper, and I’m really fucking over answering your questions. Common decency usually requires you to help the people after they’ve experienced a tragedy. I’ve seen so many dead bodies that I feel like the scent is in my nose. I’m done. D. O. N. E. Now get me out of this fucking room!”
The man leaned forward, ready to interrupt her multiple times.
But Dru wasn’t done. “I’m not a fucking criminal! You can’t fucking keep me here! It’s against my constitutional rights, goddammit! What’s the fucking point of living in the land of the free if I can’t fucking leave when I’m not under arrest?! Let me GO!”
The door opened, and a woman stepped inside. “Officer Henderson, that’s enough. They can go.”