Page 9 of The Unbuttoned Ranger
Putting her phone down, she sifted through the watercolors Carsen had created for her while visiting Mark who always seemed to bring out her son’s artistic side. Although her life here in Chicago wasn’t her dream, for now it was where she and her son needed to be. She didn’t have the circle of friends she once had, but she had Mark and Albert who she trusted. And had peace…
She sipped on her tea, her mind traveling back to a time when she had little peace.
Dante had come into her life like a silent tsunami. He’d been charming, kind, funny, and smart, and all her friends had loved him. It had been impossible for her to ignore the attraction and soon they’d found themselves intertwined in a love story that could only be described as a fairytale. Yet, fairy tales weren’t real.
Six months into their relationship, she’d found out the biggest surprise of her life. She was pregnant with Carsen. Dante’s first reaction had been one of worry and confusion. He shut her out and wouldn’t talk to her for nearly a week.One day he’d shown up at the restaurant with flowers and a ring, professing his love. She forgave him and after a whirlwind ceremony with a handful of friends, they settled into a brownstone in New York where he worked in the narcotics division at the police department.
He came home stressed many evenings, but she’d learned that he needed time to unwind. His happiness had been important to her, so she gave him as much space as he needed.
However, after Carsen was born things changed. Having the responsibility of a newborn had seemed to weigh heavily on Dante. He started drinking more, working later, and their communication had dwindled.
And then one night…
Giving her head a little shake, she dismissed that particular memory. She didn’t like how it consumed her—or set her on edge.
Getting up, she rechecked the door and windows. All locked. Then she went to peek in on Carsen again. He hadn’t moved. He had his favorite stuffed animal tucked under one arm. Leaving the door open a crack, she went back to the living room, turned off the light, and settled into the thin cushions of the couch.
The events of that afternoon had her anxious. That afternoon, she thought she saw Dante standing across the street staring at the restaurant. But she’d blinked and he, or whomever it was, was gone. Overcome with fear, she’d called Mark at once to ask if Carsen was okay. After speaking to him and getting the assurance that she needed, she’d chalked everything up to lack of sleep.
Sleep had become more of a luxury than a necessity these days.
She’d barely closed her eyes when she heard footsteps in the hallway outside of the apartment. Over the last year she’dlearned the footsteps of everyone who would have reason to be on the floor. The neighbor to the right walked with a cane and shuffled her feet. The neighbor to the left worked as a bike messenger and walked fast and with purpose. These footsteps belonged to neither neighbor.
Then the knock came.
CaDee jumped off the couch so fast that her feet got tangled in the blanket, nearly sending her toppling over.
It was one-thirty in the morning. No one would be here this late.
Quietly, she tiptoed to the door and looked through the peephole.
Her instincts screamed. Nausea rose in her. Dante was here, she knew she'd seen him, and he'd been watching. Fear battled with logic as she recalled the plan she'd prepared if he ever found her and Carsen.
She backed away from the door like it was a snake ready to bite.
“Open the door, CaDee,” Dante said through the door.“I want to see my son.”
His voice triggered her response.
She raced into the bedroom, grabbed the stack of clothing from the shelf and hurried to pull them on, and then the tennis shoes. Next, she grabbed the duffel bag from the closet, unzipped it and shuffled through the envelope of money and clothes.
Then she remembered her phone was still in the living room.
Retracing her steps, slower this time, she heard the doorknob turn. He was trying to get in. She knew all too well how skilled he was at picking locks.
Grabbing her phone, she wasted no time in shoving it into the zipper pocket of her shirt and going back into the bedroom to scoop her son up along with the blanket he was tangled up in.
He groaned and she whispered in his ear,“Shh. It’s okay, my love.”
The pounding grew louder. Dante was losing his patience. He was drunk and didn’t care about waking the neighbors. His ego always led him to believe the rules didn’t apply to him.“I know you’re in there, CaDee,” he slurred.
He’d be inside soon, that she had no doubt.
As quietly as possible as if Dante might hear, she opened the window and carefully climbed through onto the fire escape while holding Carsen close. The rain had started, and thunder vibrated the air. She took a step and slipped on the wet landing.
She’d meticulously planned the escape since they’d moved in. Gone over it at least a dozen times inside her head. She’d known this day would come. Knew he’d find her, and her son.
She balanced her son in one arm and the precious bag with all their belongings slung over the other shoulder.
