Doors open and close downstairs, and I crawl back behind my box, watching as Manning’s men load the two unconscious men into the cargo space at the back of one of the Rovers while Drew and Charlie pepper the other bodies with bullets, ensuring no witness is left alive.
Except for me, of course, but they don’t know that.
After they leave, I crawl back to the little girl, take her cold hand in mine, and sing her a lullaby. Rage comingles with sadness as I sing lullaby after lullaby, my frustration so intense I wish I could scream until my lungs feel like they might burst and my throat is scraped raw.
I make a silent promise to myself.
If Drew Manning has anything to do with abducting and murdering little kids, I will slice his cock from his body and feed it to him in little pieces before ripping his heart from his chest with my bare hands and watching him bleed to death at my feet.
ChapterThirteen
Drew
“You look pale and tired,” Mom says the instant she opens the door to me.
“Gee, thanks, Mom,” I say, slipping inside her house when she stands aside to let me enter. “You look great too.”
She closes the door behind me as the sound of multiple voices filters down the hallway from the main living area. Mom scheduled an early dinner because she wanted the kids to come too. Don’t get me wrong, I love my nieces and nephews and my little cousins, but it’s a bit like feeding time at the zoo when we’re all together. When Lauder, little Anderson, and Hunt and Daniel’s kids are added to the mix, it’s complete mayhem. But they’re not here today, so my ears should survive the evening.
“Don’t be a smart-ass.” She musses up my hair. “I’m just worried about you.”
“There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Sure, there isn’t.” She loops her arm through mine. “You work too hard, Andrew. You need to make time for fun too.”
“Trust me, I have plenty of fun,” I say, sporting a smirk as I think of my next playdate with Vixen, which is happening tomorrow night, and reminiscing fondly over the torture session Charlie and I indulged in with Luis last week.
“I’m not talking about those kinky women you hook up with. I mean making time for a real relationship.”
I arch a brow as we stall at the end of the hallway, wincing as one of the kids emits a high-pitched squeal that feels like it’s piercing through my skull. “Kinky women?”
She musses up my hair again. “I know about that sex club you go to.” Her mouth pulls into a grimace, and I can imagine where her mind has gone.
“It’s not what you think, Mom. It’s not like the elite clubs of the past. It’s professional, and everything is fully consensual. Women have control, and it’s empowering.”
“Maybe we’ll sign up.” Abby leans against the curved archway that leads into the main part of Mom’s house.
“At least I know who blabbed now.”
“It wasn’t me.” Her lips tip up at the corners. “Mom has Kai wrapped around her pinkie. She coaxed it out of him.”
“Only because I want you to meet a nice girl and settle down.”
“That’s not in the cards for me, Mom, and you need to stop butting in. I’m happy with my life. I don’t need a woman to complete me, and now you know about the club, you can rest assured I am not short of female company when I need it.”
“Sex is not the same as love and companionship.”
“Uncle Drew!” Oli shouts, racing toward me and snatching my hand. “You’re just in time. We’re bobbing for apples.”
My nine-year-old nephew hops from foot to foot, literally vibrating with excitement. He’s a hyperactive little dude who rarely sits still. Oli is constantly looking to be entertained, and he is never short of quickly rotating interests and passions. Talia—Kai and Abby’s eldest— tries to baby her younger siblings. She is the quietest of their four kids and very mature for her age while Ori, their youngest son, is so laid-back he’s practically horizontal. But he’s a sensitive soul too, and he feels things deeply. Amelia, my youngest niece, is a bubbly little cutie who reminds me of her mother. She has a naturally inquisitive mind, and she’s constantly asking questions, just like Abby as a child.
They’re great kids, and I love spending time with them.
As long as I can hand them back when I’m leaving.
“We’re making chocolate apples too, and we all have a pumpkin to carve,” Charlie’s eleven-year-old daughter Jane says, grabbing my other hand. Her warm fingers curl around mine, and I smile at my little cousin. We share a special bond that is everything to do with her name and also not. She’s a sweet kid and a bit of a mother hen like Talia with the younger ones.
“And we’re gonna do the monster freeze dance,” Talia adds, winding herself around my legs and looking up at me with puppy-dog eyes she knows will get her anything she wants. “Mom said we had to wait for you to get here ’cause you’re the best at it.”
