Page 36 of Claimed By the Don

“Thank you,” I manage, not sure how to take a compliment about my child’s demeanor when kidnapped. I decide to take it in good faith because she seems like a kind person caught in a shitty situation.

“He’ll bring the little boy here. It’s going to be okay. The gambit failed—as it should. Desperate and stupid,” she says with a shake of her head, as if she thinks her son screwed up the spelling bee instead of murdering and kidnapping his way across town.

All the while, Benny is beside me, a solid presence, his arm around me. I know there’s going to be hell to pay for what I’ve done. I can’t bring myself to care at the moment. First of all, much like Grigo, I’ve brought this on myself. Secondly, as long as Liam is safe and back in my arms, nothing else matters.

Benny can yell at me and hate me and demand legal rights. This is my penance, just like telling my son the truth is going to be my penance. I kept him from a father who would have loved and protected him because I was young and scared. Losing Benny for good is the price I will pay. I deserve it. The only thing I can do now is pray, tell the truth and endure. Everything I should have done to begin with.

The timer is at two minutes when the doorbell rings. Mrs. Cappelli glances at her phone, the doorbell camera app. “They’re here.” She says. We jump to our feet and follow her to the door.

“Mommy!” Liam cries and runs to me. I fall to my knees and he crashes into me. I hug him tight, weeping with gratitude.

“I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’ve got you,” I tell him. “I love you. Mommy loves you. You’re safe now.”

People are talking, mostly in low voices besides the strident tones of the thwarted kidnapper.

A hand under my arm helps me to my feet. I pick Liam up and carry him, his legs and arms around me like someone will snatch him away again. We are ushered out, put in a car. I buckle Liam’s seat belt and whisper to him, promising him he is safe and going home now as we are whisked away from that place.

Benny has stayed behind to tie up loose ends as he would say. I didn’t thank him, didn’t say a word. I’ll deal with that tomorrow. Tonight, I’m taking my son home and letting my mom know he’s safe. I’ll make him dinner, give him a bath, and he can fall asleep on my lap. I’ll hold him all night, reminding myself he’s home.

I still have Mrs. Cappelli’s rosary clutching in my hand when I get to my mom’s. She comes out and embraces us both. Liam complains that we are smushing him and we laugh through our tears.

Once Liam is asleep, I try to tell my mom briefly what happened.

“It doesn’t matter how he did it,” she says simply. “When I called him, I wanted my grandson back. I don’t care if he won a game of rock paper scissors or shot up city hall.”

I nod because I feel the same way. I can act as self-righteous as I want until it comes to the safety of my child. Then any integrity and lawfulness goes out the window and I don’t care if they take prisoners.

“This is what I was scared of all along. It was why I took off. Because I knew a child would never be safe in this life. And everything I put you through and everything you missed out on and Benny never even knowing about Liam, all of it was for nothing. I thought I could control everything, keep him safe that way. But we were always vulnerable, we were in danger and I was just pretending we weren’t.”

“Your son was walking around all this time with that face and you were convinced it was a big secret,” my mom says, “but you know how stubborn you are.”

“Yeah,” I say miserably. “I’m sorry. Tomorrow I’m going to talk to Benny. Or listen to him yell at me and tell me what a horrible person I am.”

“It’s time to grow up, baby. You’ve got to face the music.”

26

BENNY

The first time I see my son, it’s in a stranger’s apartment. A glimpse of his face, big dark eyes, messy dark hair, round cheeks. He streaks past me into Daisy’s arms. When he barrels into her, she scoops him up, never letting go of him.

I register that he is whole and safe. I have to turn my attention to the next step, eliminating the threat. Delivering the message personally that anyone who lays a finger on my family will pay in blood. I don’t have the luxury of sitting beside my own child and looking him over, making sure he is okay. I have to mete out justice as brutal as it is instant. I tap Gino to drive them home.

I help Daisy to her feet as she struggles under his weight, carries him herself. His legs are long, dangling at her sides for a second before he wraps them around her and clings like a baby koala. I touch her hair and she leaves, never even looking away from him for an instant.

She was scared out of her right mind tonight. That may explain why she wouldn’t let go of me, held onto my hand and leaned on me and looked to me for cues as to what to do, whether to sit orstand, accept tea or not. Like I was her whole world. When, in fact, her whole world is that little boy she’s been raising in secret.

This whole damn time, I’ve had a son and never knew. It’s eating me up even as I push it back into a vault so I can deal with Grigo Cappelli for the last time.

I nod to his mother and say I’ll wait outside. I give them fifteen minutes. Then I knock on the door. She sends him out, eyes red but her face resigned. He follows me to his car and hands me the keys without a word. I thought he’d be obnoxious and loud, threaten and beg and try to bargain. He’s silent. I’d say it’s unnerving but the whole damn day has been unnerving.

We go for a drive to one of my warehouses. I do what I have to do, and the cleanup crew is there to take over. By the time I take a shower at my place it feels like I’ve aged twenty years since this morning.

Drained and miserable, I know I won’t sleep. I work out, then flip open my laptop and search. I get on the school’s web site, look at recent photos. There he is, holding up a paper with big lopsided numbers written in little boxes, row after row of them, along with a couple other kids. “Great job Lily Wong, Jaxon Holloway, and Liam Cooper who wrote their numbers to 100 today!” the caption says.

He's in kindergarten. He can already count and everything—I missed all that. Crawling, walking, first tooth, first everything. It’s a punch to the gut. I pick up my phone to call Daisy, but I have a message from her.

Meet me for breakfast at 8? Same picnic spot, I’ll tell you everything. Thank you for bringing him home.

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