Practicing Parenthood

by Cara Lockwood

  Yvana frowned. “Me? Honey, she was upset about you and that blonde. If you hadn’t been flirting so hard, she wouldn’t have been in such a hurry to get away from you.”

  Guilt hit him. He should never have been flirting. “I wasn’t,” he lied.

  “You weren’t not flirting, either. I saw you with your Colgate smile. Made Madison think all this proposing you’ve been doing is just out of obligation, nothing else.”

  Collin let out a long sigh. He knew how it must look. He’d have to deal with hurt feelings later; right now, he needed to get to Madison before Jimmy did.

  “You find her?” Mark approached, his face grim.

  “She went home. Yvana dropped her off. Come on, let’s go.” Collin hopped into the driver’s seat of Yvana’s golf cart.

  “No, let me drive,” Mark said. “I’m faster than you.”

  Collin knew Mark had taken several evasive and aggressive driving courses as part of being a detective. Loath as he was to hand over the keys, Mark had a point. And this was about Madison’s safety. “Fine,” he said, giving him the golf cart key. “Get us there.”

  * * *

  THUNDER RUMBLED, AND Madison peered out the window into the yard. The figure of the man was nothing more than a tall shrub, now that she got a better look at it. Teddy barked one last time. Madison scooped him into her arms and walked upstairs to the master bedroom. She wanted to forget this day had ever happened. After she tucked Teddy into a bed of towels on the floor of the master bedroom, she closed the door and then ran a shower in the adjacent bathroom. She missed her uncle’s big new granite shower. The one in Collin’s rental house was clean, at least, with a simple curtain decorated in shells. The blue tile was a bit out of date, but Madison hardly cared. She just wanted to wash the sticky film of Florida off her arms, get into a pair of comfy pajamas—though all she could think about was the thin blonde smiling at Collin and Collin smiling right back.

  Madison knew she was overreacting. She knew it likely meant nothing, but seeing him enjoying himself so much in the company of another woman hurt her, jabbed at her like the prick of a needle. She was a fool to think he’d be faithful to her. Why would he? He didn’t really love her. Hell, he could probably even use her story to pick up women. Was he, at this very moment, telling the pretty blonde what a victim he’d been? I’m a father by accident. I’m going to marry the mother of my son, but I don’t love her. It sounded like the start of a star-crossed romance novel.

  Madison sighed, turned on the shower and let the steam fill the small room. She slipped out of her dress, noticing as she glanced down that her waist had definitely become thicker. She looked at her toes, still visible beyond the tiny baby bulge starting in her lower abdomen. How long would she be able to see her feet before the growing baby eclipsed them entirely? She put a hand on her belly. Was she ready to be a mother? Was Collin ready to be a father? She thought of him again, laughing with the pretty girl at the reception. No. No, he wasn’t.

  Madison got into the steaming shower and felt tears sting her eyes as the water poured over her. She loved Collin, she realized. Truly loved him. She just wished he felt the same about her. Wished he loved her for her. That was what hurt so much. She knew now that she’d want to marry him whether she was pregnant or not; she’d been resisting it, but that was the truth. He didn’t feel that way, though. She hated being so vulnerable, so weak, and yet, she couldn’t deny her real feelings any longer. She’d been telling herself this all had to do with how Collin felt about her, but really, she’d been the one falling in love...

  Madison washed her hair, the water calming her, although she still felt a lingering sadness as she rinsed and then stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel. She wrapped her hair in a coral towel and used an identical one around her body She’d left her body lotion in her cosmetics bag and went to fetch it. She glanced at Teddy’s pile of towels as she went—and saw that the puppy wasn’t there.

  “Teddy?” she called but got no answer. She knelt down to look beneath the bed, but this time she saw no dog. That was when she realized the bedroom door was wide open.

  “I thought I closed that,” she said aloud, wondering how it had come open. “Teddy?” she called, walking into the hallway. She glanced down and saw one half of a wet, muddy footprint on the landing near the bedroom door. Big. Menacing.

  In an instant, she knew exactly who’d made that footprint.

  Jimmy Reese.

  “Well, Miss Lawyer,” she heard somewhere behind her. She knew before she looked behind her that it was Jimmy. She’d have recognized his voice anywhere. “Don’t you have some mighty fine legs? Why don’t you give me a little show?”

  She slowly turned in time to see the white supremacist grin. He held a pistol aimed at her chest. “We’re gonna go for a ride, sweetheart.”

  His eyes flicked down at her towel.

  “Jimmy. Please.” She hoped beyond hope that somehow he’d see reason. That he’d understand whatever he’d planned wouldn’t end well.

  “Oh, there’ll be plenty of time for you to beg, but right now, we got places to be.”

  * * *

  “WE NEED TO go faster,” Collin shouted into the wind as he hung onto the passenger seat. Mark drove the golf cart like a bat out of hell. Collin hated that he wasn’t the one driving—not being in control made him crazy, and yet, he had to admit that Mark’s skills behind the wheel, even when it came to a golf cart, were superior to his.

  “This is as fast as the damn thing goes,” Mark yelled back as he wound their way down the narrow sandy path. Collin sat next to him in the front, and Steve sat behind them, facing backward, as they tooled down the road on the fifteen-minute drive to his house. He didn’t want to think about what might happen if they didn’t make it in time, if somehow Jimmy Reese got there first.

  Rain began to fall through the open windshield and windows of the golf cart, as Collin mentally beat himself up for getting sidetracked by a pretty girl at the wedding reception. He knew it’d been a stupid choice, letting himself get distracted, enjoying a simple moment with a beautiful girl. He might be almost engaged and a dad—but he wasn’t dead. And yet, he knew he’d messed up.

  He sighed. He made mistakes as much as anyone else, no matter how hard he tried to be flawless. Yvana had been right; he only had himself to blame. If anything happened to Madison because he’d flirted with another woman, he’d never be able to forgive himself. But right now, he had to find her. There’d be time enough later to worry about feelings. Now, it was about making sure she was safe.

  They pulled into the driveway of Uncle Rashad’s house. “Madison’s next door,” Collin said over the wind and rain.

  “But our perp is probably here.” Mark turned to him. “Stay here,” he shouted.

  “Like hell I will!” Nobody was going to make him stay behind when Madison’s safety was at stake.

  “Stay. That’s an order, prosecutor.” Mark drew his gun and went. He and Steve trotted up the steps of Uncle Rashad’s house. Collin, not caring about the consequences, bolted across the small path that connected the two homes. He took the steps to his rental house two at a time, his heart pounding, his stomach weak.

  Just let her be okay, he prayed to anybody who might be listening. I was a jerk, and I have to be able to make it up to her. Do not let tonight be the last time I see her.

  The door was ajar when he got there, and his heart dropped to the floor. “Maddie!” he called into the dimly lit foyer. “Maddie!”

  She wasn’t in the kitchen. Or the bedroom. He trotted into the bathroom, where the mirror was still covered in a fog of steam and the air was humid and smelled like shampoo. She’d taken a shower. She’d just been here. But where was she now?

  “Maddie!” he called again, running out of the bedroom. He nearly slipped on a wet patch near the stairs and that was when he saw the mud. A man’s footsteps,
wet from the wet earth outside. Footsteps that weren’t his own.

  His stomach shrank with fear, with the horrible knowledge that Jimmy had been in this house.

  “Maddie!” he cried, his voice more anguished as he started to realize he was too late. Madison wasn’t here. She wasn’t here because Jimmy had taken her. There was no sign of Teddy, either. What had happened to the dog?

  He heard Mark shove open the front door and he glanced down at the foyer landing. The detective glared up at him. “I told you to wait.”

  “Madison’s not here. The dog’s not here, either. I think—”

  His phone dinged with an incoming message. He saw that it was from Madison. Thank God, he thought. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she was safe after all. But then he pulled up the message. It was a photo. Of her. She had silver duct tape across her mouth and her hands were wrapped in duct tape on her lap. She didn’t have clothes on, wearing only a single bath towel, her wet hair falling into her face, terror in her dark eyes.

  “No,” Collin murmured, feeling fear, greasy and oily, spill into his belly.

  “What is it?” Mark yelled up at him.

  “Reese has her. He has Madison.” Collin’s world crumbled in that instant. The woman he loved, the mother of his child, was being held by one of the county’s most dangerous escaped convicts, a man who wanted them both dead.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  DON’T PANIC. MADISON kept repeating those two words in her head as she watched Jimmy Reese chain the backdoor of the small abandoned lighthouse near the beach. No one had been there for years, and one of the other property owners had long suggested turning the stone lighthouse into a museum. Distantly, Madison saw the moon rising over the water and knew they were close to the vet’s house. If she managed to escape, she might even make it there or to the small fire station for help. The lighthouse was hot, without any air-conditioning, and sweat dripped into her eyes. But she was alive, and that was something. He hadn’t killed her—yet.

  But he was locking them both inside, causing her mind to bounce to all the other worst-case scenarios she could think of—would he hurt her? Rape her? The bulky man with the swastika on his neck was capable of anything. He had her phone tucked in his back pocket. She’d been nearly blinded when he’d taken the photo of her.

  “I’m sending it to your boyfriend,” he’d told her, a leer on his face. She hadn’t been able to answer, with the tape covering her mouth. She concentrated on breathing through her nose. Stay calm. Breathe. You’re still alive and that’s something, she repeated to herself.

  She squeezed her arms together, trying to keep the towel across her chest up. Every so often it loosened, and she worried she’d be sitting on this folding chair naked in front of a man who’d no doubt enjoy her humiliation. She’d lost the towel on her head during the golf cart ride over and he hadn’t allowed her time to grab any clothes. She suspected that he liked her vulnerable, exposed. It amused him.

  “You feeling drafty, girl?” His eyes lingered on the edge of the towel slipping down her chest. “You can wear this.” He offered her an oversized black T-shirt with the photo of a heavy metal band on it, holding it out as if it were a great prize. “Only I want to see you change.”

  She’d rather die in the towel, she thought. He leered and she looked away, glancing around the small room of the lighthouse, the rusted-out controls. The moonlight streamed in through the big windows, the storm having blown through relatively fast. Now, the sky was once again clear. She watched as Jimmy laid out his sleeping bag. She wondered if she’d spend the night sitting up, hands bound. He’d tied her ankles with bandanas, one attached to each chair leg, though she noticed one knot was looser than it ought to be. She started working her ankle a bit, trying to make it looser. He dug around in his pack and pulled out a stick of beef jerky. He opened it and took a big bite, sitting down to consider her.

  “You want some?” he said, but then he laughed, because of course she had tape on her mouth. She couldn’t eat if she wanted to. He took another bite. Her stomach grumbled, loudly enough for them both to hear. He ignored it. He was busy reading the messages on her phone, especially the ones to and from Collin.

  “Were you two going at it before or after my case?” he asked, glaring at her.

  She just shook her head. What was she going to do? She couldn’t answer him. Breathe in. Breathe out. She was starting to feel panic in her throat, as if she might not be able to get enough oxygen. She thought about the baby growing in her belly. That baby needed air and needed her to be calm. Freaking out wasn’t going to help either one of them.

  He read more of their messages, as Madison tried to remember what she’d written him. Had there been anything about the baby? She didn’t think so. God, she hoped not. If Jimmy knew she was pregnant with Collin’s baby, he’d make her suffer even more.

  Jimmy muttered expletives under his breath, nasty ones about her, about Collin, about the color of their skin. Madison could feel the hate rolling off him, and when he looked at her, blue eyes flat and cold, she knew he saw someone who was less than him. Less than human. The tips of her fingers tingled a little, almost numb. She wondered how long he planned to keep her like this. Inwardly, she kicked herself for storming off in a jealous rage, for not waiting until Steve or Mark could take her home. She hadn’t been thinking straight after she’d seen Collin with that pretty blonde. Now that mistake might cost her her life.

  “You bitch,” Jimmy growled, throwing her phone on top of his sleeping bag. He stared at her with those dead eyes. She couldn’t help it; fear welled up in her again. She was scared of him, as scared as she’d ever been in her life, and it wasn’t just because of what he could do to her, but because of what he might do to the unborn baby inside her. “You work with that prick? You both work together to put me away?”

  Vigorously, Madison shook her head, her still-wet hair clinging to her temples. Granted, she’d wanted him to go to jail, but she’d shown up in court every day and done her job. She hadn’t been happy about it, but she’d still done it.

  “You never liked me anyhow, did you?” Madison stayed very still, studying him. He was wearing a cutoff T-shirt, the brand of some southern beer on the front. The swastika was visible on his neck, as was the KKK’s grand wizard on his left shoulder. Who did that to themselves? Made their bodies temples to hate?

  “You like my ink?” Jimmy noticed her gaze and moved his arm so the glow of the phone could give her a better view. “You wanna see it up close?”

  He moved his chair toward her and Madison worked on not flinching. Jimmy lifted his arm so it was nearly in front of her face, and she focused on steadying her heart, worried he’d take the opportunity to hit her, to hurt her somehow. She couldn’t even talk to him, couldn’t even try to reason with him, although she knew that reasoning with him would be a waste of time. Hate like that couldn’t be reasoned away. Hate like that was ingrained, beaten in, never questioned.

  “You like that?” He flexed his arm. “If I take that tape off, you gonna kiss it?”

  Madison squeezed her eyes shut. She wished she was anywhere but here.

  Jimmy came even closer, grabbing a corner of the tape and yanking hard. It came off in a rush of pain, but she managed not to yelp. Her leg kicked out, and she realized she’d loosened the bandana even more.

  “There we go. There’s that pretty mouth.” He grinned lazily, the smile not reaching his eyes. “Gonna make that mouth scream before this is all said and done.” His smile grew bigger, and he showed his crooked yellow teeth.

  Jimmy pulled a knife from his back pocket and fear constricted Madison’s lungs, pushing all the air out. Afraid to breathe in, she watched him cut a chunk off the end of his beef stick and pop it in his mouth. Then, he leaned forward. She pressed her knees together, and prayed her towel stayed up. He soaked in her nearly naked state, then took the edge of his knife and ran it along her bar
e inner thigh, leaving a tiny white scratch. She winced and he laughed, a belly laugh. He liked seeing her fear.

  “You got nice legs,” he said. “Too bad you spread ’em for that piece of shit.” He meant Collin. “Can’t go have sloppy seconds after that prick.”

  Madison felt a small measure of relief. Maybe he’d spare her that. The idea of such an awful man, such a disgusting man, on her... It made her stomach roil, made her want to retch.

  He chewed on some more dried beef, considering. “Still...maybe what you really need is to be fucked right. By a real man. Maybe I could breed some of that brown out of the world.” He grinned once more and she felt the panic come back. She needed to get him off this train of thought. Something. Anything else.

  “Why did you let me represent you?” It was a question she’d asked herself a dozen times. Yes, she’d been appointed counsel, but he could’ve fired her. Could’ve asked for a new counsel from the judge and hoped for a white man. Or he could’ve represented himself. The judge had made it clear to him in the courtroom that he had options. He’d taken none of them.

  He shrugged. “One lawyer is the same as all the rest. Bottom feeders, the lot of you.” He glared at her, hate in his eyes. At least he’s not talking about me anymore. But the look he was giving her was dangerous. “And, hey, I’m no dummy. The jury sees you, a brown girl, representing me, well, maybe that helps ’em see past this.” He gestured to the swastika on his neck. “Besides, I made you dance, little monkey. You had to dance for your master. Something I liked to make you do.”

  “But you believe a white person...would have represented you better...than me, right? You think white people are smarter.”

  “Yes,” he said. “That’s just genetics. We’re the better race. You’re just...well, a terrorist.”

  “I’m half-Indian. And I’m not a terrorist.” She was tired of explaining this to him, and she also knew it would do no good. A person like him didn’t care about facts, only hate.