I go to Ben on auto-pilot, reaching out for a hold in a world which has begun to spin unsteadily underneath my feet. He turns to me, his face a mask of pain that pinches the areas around his eyes.
“Anything?”
I don’t even need to hear his answer.
The look on his face says it all.
I let myself into the house. Grimly, I go into my bedroom and unpack Cole’s baby bag. It’s a mindless, numbing task that I do without any real thought. I take my time, losing myself in the motions, hanging what was clean or unused back in the closet and separating Cole’s little clothes into two piles, one to put away and the other to wash. I spend a lengthy amount of time crying into his favorite stuffed dog, the one we found in the dirt ten feet away from his stroller.
I feed Hank, start a load of laundry, then I call the school. I’m sure someone has already told them, but the empty house feels like it’s pressing in around me and I need something to do to keep my mind preoccupied.
The receptionist answers, a temp that had started working there a few weeks before I’d taken off. “Lindsey, hi. It’s Olivia Walker. I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be able to come into work this week after all. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“I wouldn’t let you even if you begged!” Lindsey McIntosh exclaims. She’d had her own fair share of drama, I recall numbly. According to the rumor mills, she’d even been married to a genuine rockstar, until recently. “Sweetheart, I’ve been watching the news for the last hour, and I can’t believe you even considered it. No one would ever hold you to that. You don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of it.”
“I’m sorry,” was all I could think to say. What else was there to say?
“You don’t have a thing to be sorry about. You don’t worry about any of it. We’ll cover you until things are settled. Get some rest, you sound dead tired. Call me when you have word.”
“Of course. The detectives on the case were able to get a license plate and they’ve put out an APB and an Amber Alert. Ben, Cole’s father, has some contacts, so he’s doing whatever it is guys do in an emergency…”
When I trail off Lindsey clears her throat and says with false cheerfulness, “It’s good you have him on your side then. And we are all willing to help in any way we can.”
“I can’t tell you how grateful I am, thank you.”
With that taken care of, I look around for something else to keep my mind and hands busy. If I had even the barest second to think about things, I would fall into a blind panic. My eyes land on a stack of bouncy toys I had yet to open and put together. Cole would like them when he gets back, I think. He is much more active these days, and I’d been meaning to set the toys up in his room for him to experiment with.
That’s where Sofie finds me four hours later, except I haven’t managed to do a damn thing other than cry a river of tears as I cling to his toys.
“Oh, sweetie,” she says, falling to her knees beside me and enveloping me in her arms. “Where’s Ben?”
I wipe my face with her proffered tissues. “He’s with Logan and Jack and the police, I think. There wasn’t much I could do, they said, so they told me to go home until there’s word.” I hiccup through my tears. “I couldn’t stay there and listen to them talk about statistics and have all their eyes on me, wondering. No doubt grateful they weren’t in my shoes, that their kids were safe. I couldn’t stand to watch Ben shut down right in front of me after we’d finally grown so close. I thought being here would make me feel better, but Sof, I don’t think anything will ever make me feel better.”
Olivia
I sit on the couch in a drugged stupor. Sofie had fed me sleeping medicine, but even though she’d passed out hours ago, I wasn’t able to succumb to sleep. So I sit, waiting, feeling oddly numb and my brain is so sluggish I can’t manage to form a coherent thought.
The door opens and I can see Ben walking in, his head low. If I could feel, hope would have stirred in my chest, but it’s probably a good thing that I can’t, because when he looks up, the ravaged look on his face would have dashed those hopes right away.
“They’re interviewing all of the carnies now. They’re still working on people that were there or that may have seen something.”
My voice is raw and scratchy. “So they don’t have anything?”
“They will, Liv. Logan was still there when I left.”
“Ben, I don’t know what to do. What am I supposed to do here? I don’t think I can handle this.”
He brushes the rain off of his hair and I spot his hearing device as he shucks his jacket and boots. I remember his story about what happened to him overseas, the nightmares he’s prone to having after rough days. He’s been through things like this before. I don’t even know how he’s handling it—if he’s handling it at all.
He comes to sit beside me, pulling me into his arms. “We’ll get through this together, Liv. We won’t stop until we find him.”
“He’s out there all alone. He could get sick. I can’t lose him, Ben. It would kill me.”
“We aren’t going to lose him. I won’t let that happen.”
I shake my head, because what can he do? “I just don’t—”
“Stop. You need to get some sleep. We’ve got the press conference tomorrow. They’re going to want to have you say something on camera. They’ve got everyone in the surrounding counties mobilized.” He squeezes me tighter. “We’re going to find him, baby. I promise you.”
He holds me on the couch until I succumb to a fitful sleep.
“Baby, you have to eat something.”
Ben offers a bowl of some mushy looking cereal, but the mere sight of it causes bile to rise in my throat. “No, I can’t.”
“You have to.”
With a hand covering my mouth, I say, “I’ll try later, Ben. Okay?”
He nods, watching me warily, but doesn’t press the issue, thank God. Simply getting dressed and looking presentable is just about all I can do. And I wouldn’t have been able to do that much if Ben hadn’t dragged me out of bed and Sofie hadn’t been there to pour me into a dress.
What does it matter how I look when my heart’s been ripped out of my chest?
The house where I raised my son doesn’t feel like a home anymore. The walls my brother and I finished painting a creamy beige aren’t comforting. They feel hollow and cold. Empty.
“Livvie,” Sofie says softly from the doorway. “It’s time.”
It’s uncharacteristically overcast for the Sunshine State, but the weather feels fitting. No day without Cole should have sun. I know for sure that any light in my life had been robbed from me the moment he went missing. As I stand in front of a room of reporters and policemen, I feel as though I could shatter at any moment.
“Do you need anything?” Ben asks in a low voice as we’re filed into the conference room at the police station to address the press.
“Just hold me. I don’t think I can face this without you.”
His arm is a steel band around my waist. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you won’t have to.”
The sensible black dress Sofie picked out for me clings to my sweat-slicked skin. Not even the slowly whirring fan stirs the thick, muggy air and even though we’re inside, I can smell the coming rain. I concentrate on the sticky feeling of the dress against my flesh, the heat from the camera lights that glare into my eyes, and the pregnant, gray clouds that threaten to burst outside the window. Anything but the real reason why we’re here. Doing so will cause me to break—again—and there’s only so much I can do to hold myself together at this point. The distraction and Ben’s closeness are the only things keeping me together.
I note the familiar faces in the crowd. Jack and Sofie stand front and center. He has his arms around her and is murmuring something in her ear. A surprising sight considering the two of them still can’t stand to be around each other for more than ten minutes at a time. They look good together, like they fit. She leans into him and he h
olds her steady, and I wonder if maybe there’s hope for them, at least.
Logan is there, too, dressed in his police uniform and scowling magnificently. Beneath his stoic façade, I sense an inner turmoil. I know he blames himself, and I want to tell him that none of this is his fault. There’s no way he could have known any of this would happen. But the words would feel false, because like him, I also blame myself.
My stomach churns as my mind wanders. No matter how much I try to pretend otherwise, this is really happening, but I don’t want to acknowledge it. My brain simply can’t compute that he’s gone. My baby is missing, and I’m helpless. Completely and utterly helpless. There’s a room full of people to attest to the fact that someone broke into the sanctity of my life—again—and threatened my son. Except this time, they were successful.
Beside me, I can feel the tension rolling off Ben in waves. Anyone that doesn’t really know him wouldn’t be able to tell from the outside, but I can see the ghosts in his eyes. The shadows of despair shimmer in their depths and if I weren’t numb from the anxiety medication I had been forced to take, the sight of Ben so shuttered and closed-off again would have brought me to my knees. If I could feel anything, it would be the insidious, sucking pit that is sorrow.
“Only a few more minutes,” he murmurs.
I stare at the police chief as he updates the public on the atrocities committed against my family. He entreats anyone with any knowledge of my baby boy’s whereabouts to come forward and directs the viewing public to a tip line and anonymous website, one I’ve already had Sofie hack and monitor. He ends with a plea to those on social media to share Cole’s photo and information. My heart calls out to every mother in that moment. Every mother who’s ever worried about losing a child—I hope they see this, and I hope they have it in their hearts to spread the word and help me find my baby.
We had so little time together. I glance at Ben, who is still staring into the camera as if to challenge it and everyone watching to defy the chief’s orders. Ben especially has had so little time with Cole. Because of me. I wipe away the traitorous trail of grief from my cheeks. Maybe this is what I deserve for not trying harder. My penance for being a horrible person. I deserve this, but not Ben. Not a man who has spent the last decade of his life fighting for his country, sacrificing his time, mental health and future for something greater than himself. If nothing else, I deserve this pain for lying to Ben and stealing away the precious time that was rightfully his.
I didn’t want to give the kidnapper the satisfaction of seeing my tears, but I had been instructed by the negotiators that it was important to make them realize Cole was a person. That his family cares for him.
Ben must sense the change in my emotional state because he glances away from the cameras and back at me. The look on his face doesn’t change, but he shifts closer to put an arm around my shoulder and pull me into his strong, reassuring side. I press my face into his chest and take a moment to allow his strength to reassure me.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
I sniffle. “I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”
I don’t know what I would have done if I had to face this by myself. I’d been kidding myself to think I could have done this on my own. No matter what the future holds for Ben and me, I’ll always remember he was there for me when I needed him most. Even when he was hurting, too. A far cry from how he responded a year before.
The reassuring scent of him and the strong band of his arm around my waist distracts me from the words I know he’s speaking into the camera. The pleas to the kidnapper to return Cole home unharmed. Outwardly, Ben is steady, determined, but I can feel the tremble that racks his body and the deep, unsteady breathing that belies his calm demeanor.
My silent tears soak his shirt, but I close my eyes and take a cleansing breath. When I look in the camera, I know I’m not as steady as Ben or as easily able to hide my emotions, but I do what I was told to do and speak from the heart. I implore them—whoever ‘them’ may be—to bring my baby home. I hold up his picture.
The cameras cut back to a view of the both of us then back to the police chief. As soon as I’m out of view, I burrow back into Ben’s arms as my body is racked with shudders of fear and shock. The adrenaline I experienced since waking up to realize Cole was still missing is finally abating. I can feel the lethargy stealing over me. I sink more heavily into his side, using his strength to keep me upright.
Once the chief declares the press release concluded, the reporters start filing out and we’re urged back down the hallway to the sanctity of one of the conference rooms. Perhaps sensing our need for a few minutes alone, the officer escorting us excuses himself with a few quiet words and closes the door behind him.
I focus on the sound of the whirring air conditioner and hug my arms around my waist as if that would contain the roiling pressure building in my chest threatening to break free. I don’t know how to process anything that’s happened.
My father, the shooting and now this?
From my position in front of the window I watch as the flock of reporters disperses and the blue-black clouds above finally break. Thick drops pelt the metal roof of the police station and a darkness descends, painting everything a dull gray.
Hands grip my sides and turn me away from the window. I look up into Ben’s face and see my grief reflected in his eyes. Until that moment, I’d been able to hold everything back. Having practically raised myself prior to my teenage years, I was used to taking care of everything for myself. That modus operandi continued even after the Walkers adopted me, as I never wanted to be a burden on their family.
But seeing a man like Ben vulnerable and overcome with emotion touched something inside of me that I’d kept hidden away for far too long. I feel my face crumple and run hot with fresh tears. Ben’s mask of indifference dissolves and he jerks me into his chest, his arms going around me and holding me closer. His comforting scent surrounds me and his chin comes to rest on my shoulder. The ragged sound of his breathing and the rapid beat of his heart fills my ears.
A keening wail bursts from my chest and I scream into the rapidly dampening cloth of his shirt. My fingers find their way under the material of his shirt, and I grip the warm skin of his back to anchor me through my sobs.
Ben curves over me as if to absorb my pain into himself. His hands rub across my back as he relays soft words of consolation. I can’t make out anything he’s saying, but I can hear the rumble of it from his chest and the gesture soothes me.
I almost can’t handle the overwhelming sense of despair and emptiness. There are so many things I wish I could change, so many mistakes I’d made and so many things we’d yet to experience. Now, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make up for them or experience them. Not only did this person steal my flesh and blood, but they also stole my future happiness. Without my son, there is no happiness.
With the spending of my tears into Ben’s shirt, I also cry away the last of my energy. The past twenty-four hours had only been one horror after another. Combined with lack of sleep and food, I barely have the energy to hold up my head once the first wave of grief passes.
Ben smooths a path up my back and neck to cup my face in his big, warm hands. My watery eyes reach his, and he dips his head to kiss the trail of tears away from my cheeks. His tender act warms me from the inside out, chasing away the chill that today’s trauma has wrought.
No one has ever made me feel as at home as Ben does. In truth, he ruined me for anyone else when I first laid eyes on him at thirteen; I was just too scared to take the chance on him. None of our past matters now. The only thing that matters is how safe his arms make me feel.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice warbled and scratchy. “I didn’t mean to break down all over you.”
“Anytime, baby.” I can hear the emotion in his voice and my arms constrict around his body, pulling him closer.
“I always seem to ruin your shirts.”
“I don’t care about the damn shirt,�
�� he says gruffly.
Then he embraces me, assuaging the hurt in one of the only ways he knows how. His touch is insistent, focused. He rubs his hands with a practiced precision that has my mind going fuzzy and blank, which is a welcome turn from the blind panic I’ve been in all day. I accept his comfort greedily, taking everything he has to offer.
We stay there, locked in each other’s arms, until someone knocks quietly at the door. Ben steadies me with a firm grip on my elbows, his eyes searching mine.
“We’ll find him. I promise you that on my life, Olivia.”
I don’t answer. Instead, I press a kiss against his chest and am reminded of all the terrible things he’s had to endure over the years. The loss of friends, men who were akin to brothers, innocent families he’s had to watch be tortured and ruthlessly murdered. The many times he’s had to fight for his life. He’s spent a lifetime training for atrocities like this. He hides his inner turmoil well, as he was taught to do. I look up, and he rubs a hand over my hair.
If there’s anyone I can trust now, I know it’s him. We’ll get through this together.
Logan and Ben pow-wow with the police while Sofie makes it her number one priority to get me home, fed, and keep me relatively sane as we do the only thing we can do: wait. She even allows Jack to tag along, though the tension between them is so thick, I still notice it even through my stupor.
As we pull in the drive to my cute two-story bungalow, I wonder if this little house I called home for so long, the place I’d hoped to raise Cole in, would ever feel safe again. An ominous weight settles over my chest as I unlock the front door and swing it open to an empty room.
The bouncer is still a mess of parts on my living room floor and the scent of the dinner I’d burnt lingers in the air. Hank winds around my legs, even more anxious than normal, so I let him out the back to work off the nervous energy.
First to Fight Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 34