Guess Zach’s murder plan is going down the drain.
“I’m Mrs. Novotny, by the way.” Once the chain is cut from my collar, she uses a knife and cuts the zip ties from my wrists. “Let’s get you home.”
My legs are shaky as I try to stand. “Anything you can do about this thing?” I pull on the metal collar around my neck.
She nods. “This way.”
I follow her to a room near the entrance of the warehouse. She makes quick work of the lock, and the collar drops. While I should be happy, part of me misses the sensation. I have a thing for collars. Not that I’ve ever met someone who’s wanted to collar me outside of occasional scenes.
“You smell like urine.”
“Well, your son and my stepbrother kinda left me here tied up and without a bucket.”
"Those boys are in so much trouble." Mrs. Novotny walks to a closet and returns with sweatpants and a sweatshirt. There’s a #1 on the sleeves.
My brow quirks, and I hesitantly take them. Better than staying in my own piss. But then again. . . “Are these your son’s?”
She crosses her arms and glares at me. “Do you really want to see your mother for the first time looking like a stripper?”
I groan. “Fine. Can I have some privacy?”
She rolls her eyes, then walks out, closing the office door. I quickly change, wishing I could shower. At least this fucktard’s clothes will smell when I return them . . . and no way in hell am I washing them after what he did.
I step out of the office once I’m dressed. The clothes make me look like a little kid trying on his father’s attire.
Mrs. Novotny looks up from her phone and turns on her heels. “This way.”
I follow her out, then get into her Bentayga. Nothing like being back on Long Island. All high-end cars and houses. The North Shore elite.
The drive is quiet at first. I keep fidgeting with the hem of the sweatshirt before finally addressing Mrs. Novotny. “You never answered my question. Is my mom okay?”
“No.” There's a bitterness to her tone. “How could she be when her child ran off?”
I look down at my hands as I fidget with the hem of the sleeves. Fuck. After what happened with Zach. . . "I just wanted her to have a good life. Without my issues. Without me fucking everything up."
“No mother is whole without their child. Especially when they don't know if they’re safe.”
I sink farther into the seat and stare out the window, trying to blink away the tears gathering. Fuck Zach for finding me. And fuck Raiyne for snitching.
We pull up to the Knight’s mansion, and my heart races. Five years. Five fucking years since I've been here.
I can't move. Can't breathe. “I can't—”
“Yes, you can.” Mrs. Novotny gets out of the car, walks to my side, opens the door, and holds out her hand. “Come on.”
I take it and step from the SUV, my legs unsteady.
The walk to the front door is agonizing. Each step is harder than the last. But Mrs. Novotny keeps her hand in mine, guiding me forward.
The door opens before I can even knock, and there she is.
My mom.
She looks . . . older. Tired. Her eyes, though—they're the same. Warm. Kind. Full of love.
"Hi, Mom."
She makes a sound—half sob, half laugh—then wraps her arms around me, squeezing me close, and I break. Full-on, snot-dripping, ugly crying.
