Page 32 of Perfect for Her

I nod my head before he even finishes and his whispered curse washes over my body, seeping through my pores as my mind reels, trying to figure out who the hell could hate me so much to hurt my child.

“What are the cops doing? Anything?”

I shrug, not having the capacity to explain the complexities of jurisdiction and warrants. They tried to explain it all to me at some point in the last half hour but it all went in one ear and out the other. Mark kisses my head and sets me back down on the couch, and before I can stop him, he’s making his way over to the huddle of cops that have gathered in my kitchen.

The ringing in my ears doesn’t allow me to hear a thing they say, but from the way Mark’s hands flail about between him and the group of men that hold my son’s life in their hands, I know he’s pissed. The cop from earlier, the one that took the photo from my hands glances my way, his eyes pleading to take Mark away from them but for the life of me I can’t. He’s the only one that seems to care enough to be mad, and I love him for that.

My fingers grip the stuffed dinosaur in my lap, clasping it close to my chest as I close my eyes and lie back, praying this is all some horrible dream. Praying this is a nightmare and I’ll wake up with my son in my arms and my life back to normal.

A shrill sound echoes through the room, my eyes staying closed as I pray for the sound to go away so I can drift into nothingness because everything seems dim, everything seems pointless unless my little boy is safe and home in my arms.

“Harlow?” Mark’s voice filters through the fog as my eyes open and he’s holding my cell phone. “It’s your phone.”

My heart sinks into my stomach as I shoot out of my seat, taking the phone from his hand.

“Shit,” I mutter as the phone falls from my shaking fingers and before I pick it up, I glance at the cop that now stands beside me.

“Keep them on the phone as long as possible.”

I take a shaking breath, nodding before I put the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I don’t recognize my voice; the hoarseness takes me off guard as I clear my throat as my heart beats a mile a minute inside my tight chest.

The silence that greets me makes my eyes flick to the cop standing to my left. He waves his hand, gesturing for me to continue as Mark’s fingers grip my hip, anchoring me to him.

“Hello?” I repeat, but the voice that comes onto the phone isn’t one I thought I’d hear again.

“Mommy?” Ethan’s small voice filters through my phone as the wave of tears sheds from my eyes.

My knees give out, Mark’s arms wrapping around my middle, holding me upright as I grip the phone with every ounce of strength I have.

“Ethan?” I whisper, my voice is barely audible. “Are you okay, sweetie?” My hands shake as I wait for his little voice to meet my ears.

“Uh-huh, this man told me that he would give me all the candy I wanted if I left with him.”

My eyes close, my chest constricting as every TV episode of Criminal Minds I have ever watched filters through my mind.

“Sweetie, you know you’re not supposed to go with strangers,” I say quietly, his hiccuping and crying filling my ears as my own tears fall silently down my face.

“I’m sorry.” His broken words sit heavy on my chest as I glance back at Mark, who leans down and kisses my forehead.

“It’s okay, honey, but you’re okay? You’re not hurt?”

Before Ethan can say a word, a crackling sound fills my ears and heavy breathing sends trickles of fear down my spine.

“Hello, Harlow.” The second that low baritone timbre reaches my ears, I gasp, every memory, every moment I spent with this man washing over me.

“Dean?” I whisper, the cop’s eyes widening in unison as the realization that I know this man fills the room.

“Well, well. I’m surprised you remember me after all these years. I thought you were the kind of person to ruin someone’s entire life and then never think of them again.”

I open my mouth to say something but shut it once more, knowing anything I say will just make him angrier. I turn to Mark, motioning for him to find me a pen and paper, hope flickering through my system for the first time in over an hour.

“Nothing to say for yourself?” Dean mutters, Ethan’s cries echoing in the background causing every nerve ending in my body to scream.

“Why did you take my son, Dean?” I growl just as Mark hands me the pen and paper. I slip the phone between my shoulder and ear as I write every piece of information I know about Dean as fast as I can. “You hating me for what you think I did to you has nothing to do with that little boy.”

The anger is replacing the fear now, gripping every ounce of that anxiety and squeezing until it’s nothing but a pile of dust at my feet. I stand up, handing the cop the piece of paper before taking the phone back in my hand and pacing the room.

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