Page 39 of Property of Spike

Despair.

Fear.

Hopelessness.

“Cassandra,” she whispers, her voice nearly gone.

Cassandra?

“Who is Cassandra?” I ask, hating that I need her to talk just a little bit more.

More tears, and as much as I want to kiss them away, I’m terrified of hurting her.

“New mommy,” she whispers.

What the fuck?

“Is she the woman you heard Chuck talking to that night?” I ask, remembering her mentioning it.

She nods.

His new mommy.

The words slice through me like a fucking blade.

Riley drops her head, her shoulders trembling, and it takes every ounce of control I have not to put my fist through the nearest wall. Or Chuck’s goddamn face.

That motherfucker didn’t just take her son. He replaced her. He ripped her baby out of her arms and handed him off like she never even fucking mattered.

I suck in a sharp breath, forcing myself to stay calm. She doesn’t need my rage right now. She doesn’t need to see me lose my shit when she’s already barely holding on.

But fuck.

I crouch lower, trying to catch her eyes, but she won’t look at me.

“Riley,” I say, softer now. Controlled. “Look at me, baby.”

She doesn’t.

“Look at me,” I repeat, and after a long, agonizing time, she finally lifts her head.

Her eyes are red and swollen, her lashes clumped together from unshed tears, her bottom lip trembling. And her face, her beautiful fucking face, is drawn down in agony.

I grit my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

“He’s still your son,” I tell her, my voice steady, firm. Unshakable. “And I’m gonna get him back.”

She just stares at me, so fucking broken that it nearly levels me.

“You don’t understand,” she whispers. “Chuck has full custody now.”

My blood runs ice cold.

Full custody?

“What?” The word is a growl, low and deadly.

She nods weakly, blinking away more tears. “He made me sign something before he left. I… I didn’t even know what I was signing.”

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