Mother's Love

by Kirsty Dallas

  Chapter 18

  Dillon

  The house in Cedarville was empty, just as the real estate agent had spluttered indignantly when our phone call awoke him at the break of dawn. If I wanted to be honest with myself, I didn’t expect to find Eli here; it just felt too easy. I wondered, not for the first time, if Alison and Stephan had been working with the loan shark who Phillip had borrowed money from. But the timeline didn’t work out. They had been watching Eli since Phillip’s incarceration, which meant they had been planning something long before Phillip made a deal with the devil. They spoil Eli because they can’t have children of their own. Annie’s words rang through my mind like a broken record player. The unexpected opportunity to take Eli arose when Annie left him with Alison at the hospital. There was no ransom demand, no taunting Eli by the man who had threatened and attacked Annie. Phillip was MIA. I shook my head in frustration, wanting the answers to present themselves.

  Bomber leaned languidly against the SUV beside me, his customary tooth pick hanging from his lips. I knew that even though he hadn’t slept the night before and was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, he was anything but languid. His eyes were sharp, and by the grim set of his jaw, I knew he was frustrated, too.

  “It was worth checking out,” I mumbled, unable to hide the irritation in my voice. I slipped my phone into my back pocket and clenched my fists. To say I was frustrated was the understatement of the year. Choked with fury, restless to the point I couldn’t remain still, not even for a second, I felt caught somewhere between rage and futility. If I was feeling this wrecked, I couldn’t begin to imagine how Annie was feeling.

  “Was that Brai?” asked Bomber.

  “Don’t let him hear you call him that,” I replied, my thoughts a thousand miles away, working over what I needed to do next.

  Bomber snorted. “I call him that all the time; anyway, behind that dark, scary scowl I know he really loves it.”

  That drew my attention back to the here and now, the corner of my mouth twitching with the need to smile. Only Bomber could get away with calling Braiden by the nickname that I knew he did not love. Bomber was probably the only person who knew Braiden better than me, having worked with him while Braiden was still the right hand man for his gun dealing Russian stepfather, Alex Toropov. Bomber was most likely the only man, apart from Charlie of course, who could create a smile in the direst of circumstances. I liked that about him, the fact his attitude wasn’t chaffed by the ugliness I knew he had seen in his life. Bomber wasn’t called Bomber for shits and giggles. He was, in fact, a bomb expert who Braiden assured me wanted to move away from blowing up cars, buildings, and assholes to something more constructive, like saving people. Bomber had proved himself loyal and trustworthy, and the fact he had earned Braiden’s respect and friendship, to the point where he could get away with calling him Brai, well, that spoke louder than any résumé.

  “Yeah, that was Braiden. He just finished going over Phillip’s apartment. He thinks he’s found a lead on the loan shark. He found a name and phone number on a piece of paper shoved in the pocket of a pair of jeans in Phillip’s dirty laundry. Grayson Shivell. Braiden got Sam to dig, and they discovered he’s an ex-con with a rap sheet longer than my and your arms combined.”

  “That’s good,” Bomber said, his voice full of excitement.

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t bring us any closer to finding Eli.” I ran a frustrated hand through my short cropped hair and leaned beside Bomber.

  “You don’t know that. It might. Even if it doesn’t, it’s still a problem that needs fixing; there is still the threat to Annie, and if Braiden can remove that, it’s one less thing for us to be worried about.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. I just can’t fucking think straight right now. I’ve barely slept in forty-eight hours, and every time my mind leaps to an idea, I talk myself down from it a second later. I just can’t fucking believe this happened.” I spilled my frustrations much like women would talk idly about their feelings and shit. Bomber didn’t give me grief like I expected him to, though. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the keys.

  “Let’s get back to Claymont. You can get a couple hours of sleep, and I’ll head into the office and keep Sam company. We can man the phones and keep in touch with Braiden. I’ll let you know the minute we have something.” I knew Bomber was exhausted, too, but of the two of us, he was most likely the better equipped to deal with the situation right now.

  “I’ll drive, then, that way you can get your own power nap in.” Bomber shook his head as he tossed the keys in the air and caught them back in his hand.

  “Like hell you will. Your eyes are hanging from your skull and you’d probably run us off the road.” He turned to walk to the driver’s side of the vehicle, his hand running across the hood of the car in a loving caress. “And I don’t want you hurting my baby. She’s the prettiest one I’ve ever had.”

  I chuckled as I climbed into the passenger seat. The brand new Cadillac Escalade was, without a doubt, a nice luxury SUV. “She’s pretty alright, but she’s not yours. She’s mine.”

  Bomber waved a hand in the air with nonchalance as he started the Cadillac. “I’m her foster papa, though, and I love her just like I would my own child.” I smiled and shook my head at Bomber’s obvious fondness for the company vehicle. “Have you heard from Gabbie and Larz?” I had almost dozed off when Bomber’s quiet question filled the silence.

  “Gabbie checked in yesterday. She’s upset they’re not here to help, but she understands their missing girl is just as important. They’ve got a lead, and it seems solid, so if all goes according to plan, they’ll be back in a week, two tops.”

  Bomber nodded thoughtfully, and we fell back into a comfortable silence.

  Unable to help myself, I asked, “So, when are you going to man-up and ask that girl out on a date?”

  Bomber laughed loudly. “I can’t believe you are encouraging inter-workplace relations, Boss.”

  “I was never one for rules.”

  Bomber snorted, again. “Boss, you were military. You lived and breathed rules.”

  “And consequently, I’m done with rules. If you wanna pursue something with Gabbie, I’m not going to stop you.”

  “Yeah, well, I get the impression if I tried to pursue anything with Gabbie, she’d kick me in the kahunas.”

  I didn’t tell Bomber that I agreed. Gabbie was a feisty woman who Bomber rattled with ease. But something else told me there was a sexual tension brewing between the two that needed to be dealt with sooner rather than later.

  “I didn’t take you for a coward.” I smiled.

  Bomber snickered. “Not a coward, just smart.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said, unconvinced. I knew it would only be a matter of time before Bomber made his move. He wasn’t that smart.

  I had Bomber drop me back at Annie’s. I needed to see her. I needed to hold her and make sure she was okay. I shook my head as I stepped out of the elevator. Of course she wasn’t fucking okay; her son was missing, someone had threatened to harm her, had harmed her, and she was barely holding it together. For the first time in my life, I actually understood what our clients went through. I was always sympathetic to a missing persons case, I was always ready to take down the bad guy and save the day, but never had I felt in my heart and bones the soul crushing desperation of losing a loved one. I got it now; I understood their misery on a whole new level. That understanding pushed me forward and made me more determined to make a difference in this world. Saving just one life, bringing just one more missing person home, reuniting families, protecting people, those were the everyday values of Montgomery Securities, and I had never been more proud and sure of my job than in this moment. Being a soldier came with its own form of reward. Protecting my country had been my first wish upon leaving school. Now, protecting those who didn’t have Uncle Sam’s backing, funding, and connections was something that had real meaning. First though, I needed to get Eli home.

  Wa
lking into Annie’s apartment, Sam was first to catch my eye, typing away at his laptop on the breakfast bar. Mercy was on her phone by the window, and she gave me a small wave. Annie appeared to be absent until I heard the clatter of pots and a soft curse. I peered over the breakfast bar and took her in. She was sitting on the kitchen floor, surrounded by plates, pots, and pans.

  “What are you doing down there, Sunshine?” I gently asked. She peered up at me through those gorgeous amber eyes, and the tears that threatened to fall tugged at my heart. She didn’t cry, though; she pushed her shoulders back and stood.

  “I want to do something. I need to do something. I’m going to go out of my mind if I don’t do something to help find him,” she growled, her voice rising with anger. A hand at my arm caught my attention, and Mercy gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “Ella knows something is going on. She’s been asking for Annie, and she’s getting a tad frustrated that we are keeping secrets from her. Jaxon wants to tell her, so I’m going over to the hospital to give him some support. Rebecca has Charlie watching over the coffee shop, so there is nothing to worry about. Just take care of Annie and find Eli.” Mercy pushed up onto her toes and kissed my cheek before stepping cautiously over the kitchenware to hug Annie, then she left. Sam stood with his laptop under his arm.

  “Local PD dropped the Walters’s computer off at the office. I’m going to go back in and keep working on it.”

  “Okay. Bomber is at the office, said he’ll hang around and keep you company.” By the twitchy look in Sam’s eyes as he glanced my way and nodded, I guessed he was running on nothing more than coffee fumes. “Maybe the both of you can work in shifts and catch some shut-eye.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Sam admitted as he leaned over the breakfast bar and tugged on a loose strand of Annie’s messy ponytail. “I’ll call the second I have something,” he promised her. Then we were alone.

  “I need to do something,” Annie sighed, though it was more a grouchy admission than a tired sigh of defeat. I reached for her hand and pulled her from the small kitchen.

  “Everyone is looking—Braiden, Bomber, Sam, local PD—they are all out there actively searching. Give me two hours, baby. I’m dead on my feet and I just need to power down for two hours, then you and me, we’ll take a drive to the office and check in with Sam and Bomber.” She was chewing on a fingernail, and on closer inspection, I noticed it was raw, as were her others. She had chewed them down to the quick and then some. I took her hand from her mouth and rubbed the sore looking appendages. “Come lay with me. I’m not going to be able to sleep without you close.” She nodded; it was a despondent acknowledgement, but I led her to the bedroom anyway and lay down on the bed. I didn’t bother kicking off my boots, too exhausted to care. Annie lay at my side, facing me. Dark smudges hung under her bloodshot eyes; she looked as wiped as I felt, yet she was still beautiful.

  “I prayed,” she whispered. “I feel like such a hypocrite. I’ve never been to church, I’ve never prayed, and yet now, when I need something, I seek a God I’m not sure exists.”

  I brushed the hair back from her cheek. “He listens, Sunshine. He listens to everyone and He doesn’t expect you to sit in church every Sunday to be eligible to have His ear.” A single tear slipped down her smooth skin. So many tears lost, so much heartache. I swore right then and there when I found the fuckers who had taken Eli, they would pay dearly for bringing such hurt to the people I loved. And I did love them, Eli and Annie, I loved them with a force I never knew existed. “He hears you, He sees your tears, and He feels your pain, just like I do. And between Him and me, we’ll fix this and we’ll bring your boy home.” She nodded before pressing her forehead to mine.

  “Do you have your phone close by?” I laid it in the sliver of space between us. “Two hours?” she asked cautiously.

  “I’ve set my alarm. Two hours, then we’ll head over to the office.” With a final nod, her eyes fluttered closed. She seemed to drop off within minutes, her breathing deep and slow. It didn’t take me much longer, and I grumbled in frustration when my alarm woke us up. I could have sworn I had been asleep for no more than a few minutes.

  Annie dug out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt I had left at her place the week before, and I took a quick shower. It’s amazing what a power nap and a hot shower can do for the soul. I felt as though my strength had been restored, and with it, my spirit. Annie seemed a little brighter, too. Perhaps something as simple as leaving the apartment and doing something rather than waiting had given her the extra strength she needed to keep going. Before we got a chance to walk out of the door though, a buzzing on the downstairs intercom stopped us in our tracks. Annie leaned forward and pressed a button before speaking.

  “Yes?”

  “I have a flower delivery for Annie Lonergan,” came an unfamiliar voice.

  “We are on our way down. We will meet you at the door,” I said, immediately taking charge of the situation. It seemed unusual that someone was sending her flowers. Sure, she was currently going through a stressful and difficult situation, but flowers didn’t seem entirely appropriate. Taking her hand in mine, we left the apartment.

  Chapter 19

  Annie

  The flowers that greeted us in the foyer of my building were stunning, yet at the same time, felt like an ominous warning. Dillon thankfully stepped forward, and after a quick exchange with the delivery man, he took the bouquet—yellow calla lilies, the long stems tied off with a yellow ribbon. Dillon took the card that was attached to the stems and quickly read it, his brow creasing with worry and confusion as he cautiously passed it to me. I recognized the writing immediately, and it sent a jolt of fear through my body. The familiar writing was neater than I had seen in the past, though, a carefully written letter that almost gave the appearance of someone healthy and in control. Phillip’s writing became an illegible scrawl when he was going through manic episodes.

  Dearest Annie,

  ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t feel adequate, and I know it won’t take away the pain you have suffered at my hands. I need you to believe that I love you. I always have, and I always will. Your optimistic and brilliant nature suffered with me and that is something I have had to live with for too long now. I simply can’t continue on with this guilt. You were in danger with me and because of my poor decisions, you still are. I get the impression you have moved forward and found someone who I hope will treat you much better than I did. I hope they nurture your generous spirit and see that you flourish under a kind and loving hand. I hope they can protect you and Eli like I failed to do.

  Take care, my love.

  Forever yours,

  Phillip

  “Wh . . . what does this mean?” Dillon shook his head and took the card from me, reading it again. “What does he mean ‘he can’t live with the guilt’? Do you think . . .” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

  “That’s what it sounds like,” Dillon whispered, reaching for his cell phone. “Braiden, a card and flowers were delivered at Annie’s just now. They are from Phillip, the card’s hand written, but it could have been mailed to a local florist . . . might not have been.” Dillon glanced my way before his attention returned to the card. “It sounds like a goodbye card, like he’s trying to make amends before he . . . does something harmful to himself.” My eyes widened. It was exactly what I had been thinking but hearing it spoken aloud made it all the more real. Dillon was quiet for a moment before his gaze rose to mine. “Annie, can you think of anywhere Phillip might go that is off the grid? Somewhere only he knows about? Braiden has checked all obvious places and tracked him to his last seen whereabouts, which was a motel on the outskirts of Holten Springs, but the track goes cold there.”

  I thought about it for a moment. The only time Phillip left the house was for work and the rare occasion he needed a time out. With his fluctuating moods, he occasionally needed to get away from people, seeking out the solitude of somewhere secluded. My gaze flew back to Dillon as
I recalled a place that he used for such occasions. It was a place he retreated to often. Phillip had only spoken about it a few times, but he spoke of it with fondness and considered it somewhere he could allow himself to take stock and recharge.

  “He liked to hunt, and he would take off from time to time for what he called a ‘therapeutic timeout’. I never joined him. I hated the weapons and I hated hunting live game even more. He had a friend who let him use his cabin whenever he needed to. I don’t know where it is exactly, but it’s somewhere in Tombstone Creek, Missouri.”

  “Friend’s name?” Dillon quickly asked.

  “Jake. I don’t know his last name, though.”

  “You hear all that, Braiden?” Dillon nodded and turned for the door. He was still on the phone to Braiden when he stepped onto the street and signaled for me to follow him.

  In one hand, I held the flowers that should have been beautiful, bringing a smile to my face, except now they felt heavy and sinister. In my other hand, I held the card in fingers that felt numb. What the hell had happened to my life? How had my happily ever after been so badly derailed? Dillon slid his phone into his back pocket as he held the door open to his car. His gentle but firm grip on my elbow stopped me from sliding into the passenger seat.

  “We’ll figure this out, baby. I promise.” He kissed my forehead, and the tender gesture coupled with the sure words made me want to cry. Instead, I forced the tears down and tried to smile. “And you don’t have to pretend with me, no smiling necessary. Your tears might break me, but I know what you’re going through. You’re entitled to them.”

  I sat down and laid the bouquet of flowers in my lap. I couldn’t really distinguish what I felt over the thought of Phillip taking his own life. I didn’t love him anymore; if anything, I had come to fear him. But the thought of his death, a lonely death at his own hand, assaulted me with a confusing fear and heavy guilt. Phillip didn’t deserve that kind of ending; he was a sick man who had made many mistakes, none of which were punishable in such a way. I had already reached out to God, who up until Eli’s disappearance, I had ignored, but now I sent yet another silent prayer His way. Please, don’t let him do it. He made mistakes, but that doesn’t mean he should die because of them.