Page 172 of Beneath the Mountain Sky
None of this would have happened if not for Amy Byers.
Raven would have realized something was wrong when she couldn’t get a hold of Willow and didn’t hear from her. She would have eventually gone to Tony and asked for help in finding her. And Tony would have come to me.
Willow clenches her fists so tightly that her knuckles whiten. “How did you get them sent from those locations?”
Amy averts her gaze, adjusting her hold on Niall, who has resettled. “They’re all close. Drivable. I used your truck to go to each location and mail them, to ensure the postmarks were right…”
This was calculated.
Cold.
She’s as much of a monster as her brother.
And I’ve heard all I need to.
I slide the gun into my waistband to free up my hands. “Earl was taken into custody after he shot at us.” Her gaze falls to my bloody arm. “He’s going away for the rest of his life for what he did. It’s over now. It’s time for you to give us our son.”
It’s time to end this.
For Willow.
For Niall.
For me.
For all of us.
Amy chews on her bottom lip, considering my words, clinging to the baby she helped steal.
This lonely woman living in this crumbling house thought she could have a family again by taking mine.
Her legs start to crumple, and I rush forward to catch her before she hits the floor or drops the baby. As I hold her steady, my son pinned between us, she looks up at me. Her red hair graying at the temples, matching that of her brother’s…
And Liam’s.
I stare down into her eyes filled with so much confusion but also pain.
It’s nothing compared to what she caused Willow and me.
“You need to give him to us.”
I don’t know what she sees in my eyes, whether it’s determination, anger, or agony. Likely, all of the above. But she nods and allows me to take the baby from her arms gently.
His tiny weight settles in my palms, and all the breath rushes from my lungs again.
He squirms and lets out a squeal, apparently not happy about the change of position, the loss of the body heat, and the comforting hold he’s grown to know over the last few weeks.
And I don’t have a fucking clue what to do with him.
I haven’t held a baby since Liam was one.
Don’t know how to comfort him.
How to ensure he knows he’s safe and loved.
What the hell do I do?
Willow rushes over, sliding her hands into place and taking him from me, settling him to her chest, and burying her face against his tiny head, sobs wrenching from deep in her chest.
