Page 32 of Beyond Perfect

“Then why are you gonna hurt my baby brother?”

* * *

On the way home, Maisy’s stomach was queasy because of her decision to take Freddie. Still, she stopped at the department store in Westwood.

He asked, “Why we here?”

“To get you some clothes. You need a bath and clean outfits.”

“Okay.”

She took his hand and felt warmth spread through her. It was an odd kind of pleasure, one she hadn’t felt before.

Inside the store, she got a cart. They passed the toy section on the way to Boys Clothing and Freddie perked up. “Freddie, would you like a toy?”

His face lit. “Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

They perused the many rows chock full of trucks and other things she didn’t recognize. After several minutes, he couldn’t decide between two. She put both in the cart and added some action figures for his bath. Again, his eyes widened. Despite his tough life, he was just a six-year-old kid.

In the clothing department, he picked out jeans and a T-shirt for him to try on, then she added two more of each. They snagged some shoes and socks and a light jacket. Pajamas were last on the agenda.

He eyed a duffle bag. She said, “Choose one, Freddie. We can put the extras in that to take home.”

The clothes fit him, as did the shoes. They checked out, then drove to her house.

When she walked inside, Caleb stood. “Well, who do we have here?” he asked, squatting down.

“Freddie Pecorino, sir.”

“You can call me Caleb.”

“Are you hungry?”

He nodded.

“What do you like?”

“Everything.”

“Why doesn’t my brother fix you food while you take a quick bath and put on clean clothes.”

He nodded. Poor Freddie, he was the victim of adults.

When she got him in the tub in her room, he relished the bubbles. Soon, Caleb came to the door. “I’ll be right outside here, Freddie. I want to talk to Caleb.”

Once in the hallway, Caleb asked, “What happened?”

“I pretty much kidnapped Freddie.” She told him what had happened. “Well, that explains why Jackson’s downstairs.”

“Oh, dear, do you think he’ll take Freddie?” Her words were hushed so the kid couldn’t hear.

“I have no idea. Why don’t I finish the bath and get him into clothes afterward. You go talk to Jackson.”

Downstairs, she walked into the living room where he stood, his back to her, staring out the front window. “Jackson?”

He turned. His face was ravaged. “Why did you take Freddie?”

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