“Bye, bud. Have a good day.”
I couldn’t say anything. I turned, buttoning my coat, braving the snow and took Hunter to school.
I checked my phone all day. There was no news. Hawk hadn’t heard anything from the investigators except to say that the woman who claimed to be Hunter’s mother had in fact filed a missing child’s report three years ago. That alone didn’t encourage me.
What if this boy had been kidnapped? Did he have memories of it? Was he too young at five to remember another family? I stared at my class while they worked on their social studies assignment.
They had zero attention span this week. I knew today was probably the last day I’d get any productive work out of them. After this, the rest of the week would be spent watching movies and making crafts.
And then we had almost three weeks off. Three weeks that had turned into some kind of a fantasy of mine. Spending them with my boys.
Christmas Day, Hawk had the most important game of the season. But we were going to be there. After we opened presents and had breakfast we were going to meet my dad at the stadium. And then later after the Sharks won, Daddy was coming over for Christmas dinner. Maybe even Pops.
I didn’t care that I was completely outnumbered by the men in my life. I had fallen in love with it. With football. With being a new mom. With being Hawk’s.
And now what? Was Christmas destroyed? Were our lives completely wrecked? Would we be able to survive if this child was ripped away from our home?
I’d never look at that tree again. A tear started to slide along my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away before the students saw it.
“Miss Bristow?”
“Yes?” I looked up with a fake smile.
“Can you tell me about the Supreme Court again? I’m stuck on the puzzle.”
I walked out from behind my desk. “Sure.” It was a small distraction, but I needed it. Needed it as badly as I need air to breathe. If I didn’t have news from Hawk soon, I was worried I wouldn’t make it to the end of the day.
Hunter and I walked through the front door. The loft was quiet. Too quiet.
“Hawk?” I called out.
He was off today. I expected him to be on the couch watching Sports Now.
I ran to the bedroom. He wasn’t there.
“Hey, Kane I made a really cool snowman today,” Hunter hollered running up the staircase.
“Let me see if I can find him,” I told Hunter.
I dug though my purse until I found my phone. I typed out a text.
We’re home. Where are you?
Taking care of it.
I bit my lip. What in the hell was he talking about?
Where are you?
I texted again and waited for some kind of answer that made sense. I was nervous. Worried that Hawk’s way of taking care of things were part of his past, not his present.
I’ll be home after dinner. Sorry.
That was the last text I had from him. What was he going to do? How would he handle this? I wanted him home—dealing with this crisis with me. I needed him. Didn’t he know that?
I stared at the phone when Hunter came bounding down the stairs.
“Can we make that popcorn strand you told me about?”
“Sure. Sure we can.” I tossed my phone on the table. “And we can put on a Christmas movie. How does that sound?”
I made my way to the kitchen and started on the popcorn. I had no idea where Hawk was and I didn’t like the feeling in my stomach one bit. I felt nauseated again, and my head suddenly felt fuzzy. It was too much stress. Too much worry. But I had to power through. For Hunter.
39
Kane
The woman who sat across from me in the diner kept picking at the stuffing coming out of the booth.
“Coffee?” I offered.
She looked over her shoulder at the waitress approaching the table.
“Yes, I’d like a cup.”
I nodded to the waitress to bring us two cups.
“So, tell me Ms. Martin. Why did you make up this story?”
I wasn’t the kind of man to hold back my emotions or my thoughts. I knew when someone was conning me. And this woman wasn’t taking my son from me.
She slammed her fist on the table and hissed, “My son was kidnapped. I didn’t make it up.”
“Yeah, that part of your story checks out. But why do you think it’s my son? Why did you contact DC police last night? Hunter has been in the system for three years. There is no record of anyone ever trying to contact him, meet him, reach out to him. Nothing.” I glared at her.
She pulled the wool cap over her forehead. “How was I supposed to know he was in DC?”
She had met me on I-95, just south of Fredericksburg. I was surprised no one had spotted me yet.
I leaned back, crossing my arms. I didn’t buy it. None of it. “You’re not that far away. Tell me what it is you want.”