Or anyone’s, for that matter.
“How’d it go?” Mom asked nervously as I marched inside, Brady right behind me.
The door wasn’t even shut before I started shimmying, fighting against the pastel straitjacket until I got it over my head, leaving me in a cream camisole and a black pencil skirt. “This shirt is hideous,” I declared, stomping to the trashcan and slinging it inside. “Let me do my own damn shopping from now on.”
“Uh…” Mom drawled.
Brady stopped in the entryway and planted his hands on his hips. “New hearing in two weeks. The order of protection remained in place.”
“Thank God,” Tom grumbled, pulling my mom into a side hug.
“Charlotte!” Travis yelled, barreling out of the bedroom as fast as his skinny legs could carry him. “What happened? When can I go home?”
“Hey, bud,” Brady cooed.
Travis flicked his gaze to his father then right back to me. “Is Dad coming to get me?”
My heart shattered at the excitement dancing in his eyes.
Swallowing hard, I shuffled to him. “I’m sorry, baby. The judge rescheduled another hearing for two weeks from now.”
Tilting his head back, he blinked those big, brown doe eyes up at me. “W…why?”
His staggering disappointment stole my breath. “I…um.”
What the hell was I supposed to tell him? We’d tried to be honest with him since the get-go, but he was just a kid. He couldn’t possibly understand the inner workings of this kind of hell. Truth be told, I didn’t understand them, either. This whole thing was a clusterfuck of epic proportions.
“Because the judge thinks it’s best if you stay with us,” Brady replied when words failed me.
“Forever?” Travis croaked, training his pleading gaze on me.
I caught his hand and gave it a squeeze. “At least for two more weeks.”
“But hopefully forever,” Brady added. “You belong with us.”
I bulged my eyes at him over my shoulder in a silent, Shut the fuck up, and when I turned back, Travis’s lip was quivering.
“But I want my dad,” he whispered, barely holding tears back.
I gave his hand another squeeze that was as much for me as it was for him. “I know. And I promise it’s going to be okay. The judge just wants a little while longer to figure all this out.”
His shoulders shook as his breathing shuddered, not a tear falling from his eyes but sobs ravaging him all the same.
Releasing his hand, I tried to gather him into a hug, but he struggled against me.
“Let me go!”
“Travis. Baby,” I whispered, desperate to erase his pain.
He tore out of my arms and dashed to the bedroom before slamming the door behind him.
“Shit,” I breathed, my shoulders sagging.
“He’ll be okay,” my mom soothed, but her voice was too thick for me to believe she was telling the truth.
“It’s better this way,” Brady said, resting his hand on my back.
Swear to God—it burned.
“How is it better this way?” I snapped, spinning to face him. “He’s hurting!”
“He needs to understand that—”
“He’s ten!” I spat, careful to keep my voice low. “Wasn’t that your big argument today at the courthouse when Porter suggested he get a say in where he should live?”
He twisted his lips. “Yeah. But—”
“But nothing! He doesn’t understand. And he’s never going to understand why you kept him away from a good and decent man.”
His face turned hard. “Don’t start this shit, Charlotte. You got played. You have no fucking idea who Porter Reese really is.”
“Neither do you!” I hissed. “But I can guarantee you our little boy does.”
“Charlotte,” Tom called.
“Get out!” I snarled. Stepping away from Brady, I sliced my gaze through the room. “All of you!”
Brady looked surprised.
Tom looked hurt.
And I steeled myself for Mom’s reaction. Only, when my eyes made it to her, she appeared downright proud.
“All right, boys. You heard her. Let’s get going.” She herded the guys to the door.
“And tomorrow? Call before showing up,” I added. “Brady, I’ll bring him over to your place for dinner tomorrow night. But we need to talk.”
As he made his way to the door, he stared at me, his jaw ticking with what was surely a few choice words he was struggling to keep in, but I couldn’t have cared less. He could say whatever the hell he wanted or even waggle his magical finger of blame at me.
I was done with the bullshit.
It was time for a change, and it was starting with me.
After a few icy goodbyes, I shut and locked the front door.
Kicking off my shoes, I made my way down the hall.
“Travis?” I called softly, knocking on the bedroom door.
“Go away,” he replied, tears evident in his voice.
I rested my forehead on the door. “They all left. It’s just me and you now. You want some dinner?”
“I wanna go home!”
“I know. But it’s only two more weeks and then I promise I’ll talk to the judge myself.”
“Go…away!” he yelled on a wheeze.
My lips thinned. See, this was exactly the problem with getting him worked up over Porter. At the end of the day, he was sick and this kind of emotional upheaval took a toll on his already frail body. This was stressful for us all, but for him, it was life-threatening.
I tested the doorknob, finding it locked. “Can I at least come in and listen to your lungs?”
“No!” he shouted before breaking into a fit of coughing.
“Listen, I’m going to set up your nebulizer. I’ll give you a few minutes, but then you have to come out. Okay?”
When he didn’t scream at me again, I went to the bathroom to set up his breathing treatment.
Going through the motions, I set his nebulizer up, slightly tweaking his medication to counteract the emotional damage caused by this afternoon. Thankfully, he had an appointment with his cardiologist in the morning. That would at least put my mind at ease about his heart after the last few days, but I needed to talk to Brady about maybe not laying everything out to Travis until we had firm answers. There was no reason for him to be this upset all the time.
“All right. I’m ready!” I called down the hall.
No reply.
“Travis?” I said, knocking on the door. “Baby, it’s time.”
No reply.
I pressed my ear to the door, listening for any kind of movement, only to be greeted by the most deafening sound of my life.
No coughing.
No wheezing.
No crying.
Nothing but bone-chilling silence.
Chills broke out across my skin, my body igniting in a wildfire while the blood drained from my face.
“Travis!” I screamed, pounding on the locked door, fear prickling at my scalp.
No reply.
My heart thundered, and I frantically tried to twist the knob while pressing my shoulder against the wood to no avail.
“Oh God. Oh God. Oh God,” I chanted as I raced to the bathroom. With jerky movements, I snatched the linen closet open, dumped my entire box of makeup onto the floor, and searched through the wreckage until I found a lone bobby pin.
After racing back to the door, I shoved it into the small hole on the lock. My hands were shaking so badly I had to try several times before it caught, visions of my son’s lifeless body flashing on my lids with every blink.
Finally, I twisted the knob and slung the door open.
The room was empty.
Just like my chest.
“Travis!” My mind fired in a million different directions as I began scouring my bedroom.
I went straight to the ensuite bathroom. Empty.
I snatched the covers off the bed. Empty.
I tore through the closet. Empty.
And then the past roared to life, swallowing me whole. The darkness washed over me, darker than ever before.
He was gone.
Again.
“Lucas!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, panic consuming me.