Page 16 of Kylan

“Daddy.”

FOUR

LEON ELLINGTON

I hadn’t been expectingto feel such things.

Marek and I had just walked through the door, and he’d gone back to the car to get his suit bag we’d collected from the dry cleaner. His phone was on the kitchen counter, and I was making him a pot of tea when his phone rang.

Normally I wouldn’t care, wouldn’t even look, but it was sitting face up and Kylan’s name caught my eye.

Hmm. That’s odd . . .

“Kylan’s calling you,” I yelled out.

“Then answer it, darling,” Marek replied.

I picked up the phone and hit Answer just as Marek slid the suit bag over the back of the sofa. He was watching me, concerned too, because our boy simply didn’t call us. Texted occasionally, but call?

Never.

“Kylan,” I said.

I heard his breath catch and a quiet sob that struck fear into me. Then his broken, “Daddy.”

“Kylan, baby, what’s wrong?” I demanded.

Marek rushed over to me, his hand on my chest, his eyes wide with worry.

Kylan cried, his words barely distinguishable between his sobs. “I’m sorry. Nothing, I just... I don’t even know.”

“Where are you?” I demanded. “We’re on our way. We’re coming to you.”

Marek already had the keys and we were in the car before I realised Kylan hadn’t answered.

“Kylan,” I demanded.

“I’m at home,” he said, still crying. “I’m so sorry. I just needed to hear your voice.”

“He’s at his place,” I mumbled to Marek. Then I spoke into the phone. “Okay, Ky, baby, stay on the phone. We’re on our way.”

My mind ran with a thousand possibilities.

Had someone hurt him? Was he okay? What had they done to him?

Thank god Marek was driving because fear and rage were not a safe combination.

I was scared for him. And if someone had hurt him?

I would fucking kill them.

Marek’s hand slid onto my thigh and squeezed, as if he could sense my anger, my fear.

My concern.

Our sweet princess was crying, and it was killing me that I wasn’t there.

That I hadn’t been able to protect him.

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