Jess

“Is that it?” I asked thirty minutes later as I peered out of the window of the twenty-year-old sedan, ignoring the dark, silent street to focus on the place I feared was my destination.

“Yeah,” Ralph, my elderly neighbor, said from the driver’s seat.

I looked at the desolate, deserted-looking building for any signs of life.

Saw none.

“You sure?” I asked, looking at Ralph again.

“Yeah, I’m sure. This is it,” he said.

I looked at the building again, swallowed hard.

This was where Misty had told me she’d left Jake, so this was where I would go.

I reached into my pocket and handed Ralph the fifty dollars I had promised him for bringing me here. Between Misty and Ralph, this month’s rent had taken a hit. But I’d spend every penny I had to get Jake back.

“Are you going to be okay, Jess?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine. Now get home and get back to bed. Sorry for dragging you out like this.”

“It’s no problem at all, Jess. I can wait for you here,” he said.

But even as he spoke the words I could see that Ralph wanted me to say no. And besides, I didn’t know how long this was going to take, didn’t know what exactly this was, and it would be enough dealing with Jake. I didn’t want the added responsibility of worrying about Ralph.

“I’ll be fine,” I said.

Then, to prove it to him and myself, I got out of the car and waved at him. I walked toward the building briskly, hoping that my outward appearance gave no sign of what I was feeling inside.

I was furious at Misty, worried about Jake, and, to be honest, scared.

Really scared.

I knew nothing about the people who had Jake, and these surroundings didn’t give me any comfort.

But I swallowed that fear and began banging on the door when I found it locked.

There was no response, at least not at first. But I thought I heard something, felt a little spark of hope.

“Is someone there?” I called. Then I paused, heard nothing. I couldn’t leave, though, not until I found Jake. “I’m here for Jake, the little boy.”

I waited another moment and then the door opened. I couldn’t have been more surprised when a short, curvy, dark-skinned woman opened the door. Didn’t care one bit because she was going to lead me to Jake.

“I’m Jess, Jessica Roberts. I’m Jake’s aunt,” I said, trying not to sound frantic, but hoping the woman could see my urgency.

The woman didn’t look at me askance for saying that, didn’t question how blond Misty and blonder Jake could possibly be related to me, and for that I wanted to hug her.

I didn’t.

Instead I stood still as the woman studied me and I think I saw the precise moment she decided to let me in.

She opened the door wider and then stepped aside.

“After you,” she said, her voice barely even a whisper.

For some reason that didn’t make me uneasy. I wouldn’t want to turn my back on a stranger either, was only doing so because I needed to get to Jake. But that she shared the same concern told me she was at least rational, something that gave me some measure of comfort.

I walked carefully down the long flight of stairs, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, my nerves twisting with anticipation with every step I took. When I finally turned the corner, I paused, my mind trying to reconcile what I had imagined with what I actually saw.

The place smelled of fresh baked bread and beer, and, to my surprise, wasn’t that unpleasant at all. The wood bar gleamed, as did the chairs that had been neatly stacked on top of it. As surprising as it was, given the outside, the place looked warm and almost inviting.

But that wasn’t what got my attention. What did was Jake, still wearing the superhero pajamas I had laid out for him before work, blond hair askew, his face smiling as he looked up at the man standing next to him. In front of them was a miniature pool table, and both Jake and the man held tiny pool cues.

“Jake?” I called.

At the sound of my voice, Jake then dropped the pool cue and ran over to me.

“Aunt Jess!” he yelled as he wrapped his small arms around my legs.

I stilled for a moment and then kneeled down and pulled him into a tight hug, my eyes flooding with tears of relief at holding him again. After a moment, I pulled back and stared at him, searching for any signs of distress.

All I saw was the pure joy of an unburdened childhood that I worked so hard to keep on his face.

“Hey, buddy,” I whispered, keeping my tears from falling because I didn’t want to scare him.

I stood and then looked at the woman who had let me in.

She gave me a ghost of a smile and then turned her attention to Jake. “Would you like another snack?” she asked.

Jake looked at the man, then at me, and I nodded. “Yes please!” he said.

She walked over and reached out a hand, which Jake eagerly took, and led him off.

I watched as they retreated, not wanting him out of my sight, but knowing I had something else to deal with now.

After a moment, I turned and looked into the stranger’s eyes.

* * *

Sean

I made a mental note to thank Grace.

It had been smart of her to take the boy away and leave me to what I sensed would be a hell of a conversation. I’d do that later, though. For now, I turned my attention to the woman.

She was of average height, but she stood tall, her hands hanging loosely at her sides. I let my gaze linger there, taking in the way her thighs and hips filled out her stiff, cheap-looking pants. I looked up, gaze snagging on her equally full breasts as I took in the logo on her black shirt. I thought I recognized it from a local chain restaurant, and determined, based on the shirt and apron around her waist, that she worked at the restaurant.

When I finally looked at her face, I was struck by how normal she appeared. I pegged her at her late twenties, though her fresh-faced look made her appear younger. She was pretty in that wholesome way that had never caught my eye, but were these different circumstances, she might have. Something about her caramel-brown skin beckoned me to kiss it, a feeling I had to fight to ignore far harder than I should have.

But I did ignore it and kept my mind on the matter at hand. She was trying to portray a sense of ease and comfort, but I could see through it. Her posture was relaxed, but her fists were curled, a dead giveaway to the tension she was trying to hide.

Finally, I met her eyes.

Her reaction was interesting.

She looked vaguely disgusted, incredibly relieved, and extremely cautious.

While she was clearly focused on me, I could also see that she was keeping track of the boy, not wanting him too far out of her sight, I suspected.

Quite the departure from the woman who had dropped him here.

Misty had barely looked at the kid and sure as shit hadn’t cared about leaving him even though he’d burst into panicked tears. But it was hard for me to imagine this woman doing the same, and I wondered if that was intentional.

Thinking of those chaotic hours, how Michael’s celebration had ended abruptly with me shutting down the pub as Grace had tried to calm the screaming child had my face dropping in a scowl. When I noticed that the woman had moved, I looked up, then froze my expression. The slight widening of her eyes told me I’d gotten her on edge.

Perhaps that was a good thing.

I had questions, and if she was on edge, she might be more inclined to answer them truthfully.

I stared at her, both to gauge her reaction and to get my own in order. I was reeling, but I needed to be focused for this conversation. After a moment, I began.

“What kind of scam are you and Misty running?” I asked, my voice low, my intention to convey how serious I was.

But rather than having that effect, the tone of my voice seemed to snap the woman out of whatever fearful thought she was having. And left her angry.

She shifted, standing up even taller, her face hardening. Then she locked eyes with me.

My heart gave a little thud that was totally out of place, but I couldn’t help it. The bar was dim, but I saw the little glints of honey in her dark brown eyes. They gave her eyes a depth and softness that was incredibly alluring.

And at direct odds with the fire that burned in them.

“Scam?” she asked, filling the word with an impressive amount of scorn.

Impressive, but I wouldn’t be swayed by that. She could be playing a role, and playing it very well, but that wouldn’t be enough to convince me.

“Yeah,” I said. “The kid seems to know you well. So what’s the game? Misty drops him off, and you come to collect him? You come to collect some cash too?”

I was almost certain that was Misty’s plan, but the woman’s reaction made me question her involvement. Her expression said she thought that was the worst thing ever. But she soon schooled her features, her intriguing eyes now hooded.

She took a breath. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I have no idea who you are. I simply came to get Jake,” she said calmly.

“And how do you know him?” I asked.

She narrowed her eyes again, and I could see her annoyance at the question. I also didn’t care. It was clear that the boy was comfortable with her, and I needed to know all the players in this little game.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Misty and I are as close to family as either of us has ever had,” she said.

“You’re wrong about that,” I said.

She frowned, lifted a brow in question. “About what?”

“About this not being my business. Misty made it my business,” I replied.

The way she wrinkled her nose told me she agreed, but she didn’t seem intent on acknowledging that. Instead, she said, “Well, I don’t know what Misty did either, but I’m here for Jake. I’m going to take him home now.”

Then she turned, seeming intent on leaving, but I walked across the bar and stopped her with a hand on her forearm. Her skin was as soft as it looked and touching it gave me a thrill that was completely out of place.

I ignored that and kept my eyes on her.

“So that’s it?” I asked.

“It’s incredibly late. Jake needs to get to bed,” she said as if that explained everything.

“And I need answers,” I responded.

“Whatever answers you need, you aren’t going to get them from me.”

She moved so that her arm was no longer touching my fingers, contact I realized I missed. She was also doing a damn good job of seeming convincing. I found it hard to believe that her main concern was the boy, but unlike my earlier visitor, she hadn’t asked for anything and seemed to be truthful.

Still, I wasn’t convinced it was as simple as that. I wished it were, but life had long ago taught me that I couldn’t trust what I saw on the surface, and I would heed those lessons.

“Did you know she was coming here?”

That got a genuine smile from the woman. I froze, finding myself almost mesmerized by the way her lips curved up and her eyes flashed with her amusement. “If I’d had any idea, don’t you think I would have tried to talk her out of it?”

“Would it have worked?” I asked, intrigued by her reaction and wondering what she would say.

The woman frowned, but her hesitation was answer enough.

“I’m Sean, by the way. Sean Murphy,” I said.

“Jessica Roberts, but everyone calls me Jess,” she responded after a pause.

I extended my hand. At first she didn’t move but after a long moment, she grudgingly reached out to shake it.

It was a barely-there touch, but it was intense, something I told myself was because of the gravity of the moment and nothing else.

“I’m really sorry, Sean,” Jess said, seeming genuinely upset. “I don’t know what goes through Misty’s head sometimes.”

From the way her brows drooped, her expression turning down, I could see that this kind of reckless action was not an uncommon occurrence. I still wasn’t entirely sure what was going on here, but I was glad the kid had had Jess in his life. With Misty as his mother, I had no doubt that he’d needed her.

“You don’t need to apologize for Misty,” I said, feeling compelled to comfort the woman, though I didn’t know why.

She looked at me, not agreeing or disagreeing, but I could tell that this was something she had done many, many times.

“Thank you for treating Jake nicely. We’ll get out of your hair,” she said.

I laughed. “You really think that’s it?” I asked.

She nodded. “I’ve apologized. What else could there be?”

I studied her again, trying to decide if she was pretending or not. I couldn’t quite make up my mind.

“Do you really think I’m just going to let you walk out of here with my son?”