Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
My breath catches. “Tell me.”
“We can be a family again.” His voice is smooth, coaxing. Like Hell. When I get to him, he’s going to be another ghost but only because I’m going to kill him.
“I just want my son,” I whisper.
“And I just want you. Come home, Jo. We’ll figure everything out.”
I close my eyes. I know better than to trust him.
But I don’t have a choice.
“Okay,” I say, voice shaking. “I’m coming.”
Sara grabs my arm the second I hang up. “What the hell was that?”
I force myself to keep it together. “He knows where Justice is.”
Her eyes widen. “Jo, you can’t—”
“I have to.”
She shakes her head. “No, you don’t. Call Dean. Call the cops.”
But there’s no time. I can’t risk waiting.
“I’ll be okay,” I lie.
Then I leave before she can stop me.
The house looks the same as when I left it.
Brett’s house. My house. Our old home. A den of bad memories, every single one of them tainted in pain and heartache. Stepping onto the porch feels like walking into a grave.
I push open the front door, my pulse hammering. “Brett?”
He steps out of the kitchen, smiling like this is normal. Like I didn’t leave him months ago.
“See?” he says, opening his arms. “Feels right, doesn’t it?”
“Where’s Justice?” My voice is tight, controlled, but inside, I’m breaking apart.
Brett sighs. “He’s safe.”
“Where?” I demand.
His jaw twitches. “That’s not how this works, Jo.”
Panic claws at my throat. Something is wrong. His face isn’t the same. The darkness in his eyes has changed. I take a step back, but he moves faster. His hand clamps around my wrist, yanking me forward.
“No,” I choke out, shoving at him, but he’s stronger.
The moment I see the rope in his hands, my blood turns to ice.
And then I’m falling—Falling back into my worst nightmare.
My wrists burn where the rope bites into my skin. My breath comes in short, sharp gasps as I struggle against the binds, my heart slamming against my ribs. Brett watches me from across the room, his head tilted, eyes gleaming with sick amusement.
"You should've just listened, Jo," he murmurs, shaking his head as if I'm some disobedient child. "I told you we could be a family again. But you had to make things difficult."
I swallow the bile crawling up my throat. "Where is my son?"
Brett sighs, as if he’s growing bored of the question. He steps aside, gesturing toward the hallway. My breath stills as a door creaks open, and I hear the soft shuffle of feet. My heart leaps into my throat when I see him.
Justice.
My baby.
He’s sitting on a worn-out couch, his little hands folded in his lap, his big brown eyes wide and frightened. Relief slams into me so hard it almost knocks me over. But then I see her.
A woman sits beside him, her long nails painted blood red as she strokes his hair like she has any right to touch him. She’s dressed in a tight black dress, her legs crossed neatly at the knee, her lips curled into something like amusement. She looks at me the way a cat looks at a cornered mouse.
“I told you,” She purrs, looking down at Justice with a sickly-sweet smile. “I’m going to be your new mommy.”
Justice whimpers, his lower lip trembling, and I feel something inside me snap.
“No,” I growl, fighting against my restraints. “You stay away from him.”
Brett chuckles, stepping closer. “See, Jo? This could’ve been easier. But you had to make things hard on yourself.”
I force myself to breathe. I can’t lose control. Justice needs me to be strong.
“It’s going to be okay, baby,” I tell him, my voice as steady as I can make it. I meet his frightened eyes, trying to pour every ounce of love into my gaze. “Mommy’s here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He sniffles but nods, trusting me. He always trusts me.
The woman—whoever the hell she is—laughs softly, shaking her head. “Oh, honey, you’re not in charge anymore.” She presses a red-tipped nail beneath Justice’s chin, forcing him to look at her. “You’ll see soon enough. I’ll take care of you much better than she ever did.”
Rage floods me, white-hot and all-consuming. But before I can scream, before I can spit all the venom burning on my tongue, I hear it.
A roar of engines.
My breath catches.
Dean.
Sara must have told him. He must have followed me. Relief surges through my veins, so potent I almost collapse.
Brett’s smug expression falters, his eyes narrowing as he glances toward the window. The woman’s smile fades, her fingers twitching against Justice’s shoulder.
I take my chance. I lean forward, my voice dropping to a whisper.
“Run, baby.”
Justice’s eyes go wide.
“Run to the door and don’t look back,” I tell him, my voice firm, full of a mother’s promise. “Mommy’s right behind you. Run to Dean, baby.”