I watch the way his eyes are trained on the door while he comforts his cousin. His body is stiff as if he’s on high alert for whatever comes next.
My eyes flit to my brother’s, who is taking it all in, too. I can see his anger and repulsion as he stares at the door.
I’m not sure what’s going on, but one thing is clear: I’ll be making sure Maya and these kids are safe from that man from here on out.
Chapter Eighteen
Maya
My body aches from exhaustion—part physical, part emotional. It’s been a wild day. I had spent most of it on the phone with Carolyn Siefer as she hid from her drunk husband with her four-year-old twins in the bathroom of a motel. She and her husband had both been high and drunk when they got there, so she couldn’t tell me what hotel they were even at, and she was too scared to leave the bathroom to see. I heard the fight as it played out, and I heard the gunshots, too.
We had gotten to the location just seconds too late. By the time we arrived, Carolyn and John, her husband, were deceased, and the twins were hiding in the bathroom.
I can’t get home to Jaz and Alex quickly enough. I need to hug them as tightly as possible.
I almost brought the twins in with me, but I knew they were better off at their aunt’s house. I cannot mentally or emotionally take anything else on right now. My body is telling me as much.
I check my reflection in the mirror, dry my tears, and walk inside the youth center.
Put a smile on your face, and don’t let anyone know that you were crying in the parking lot five seconds ago.
“Alex!” I call out, trying to inject some life into my tone. “You want pizza for dinner?”
My voice echoes into the main room, but I get no response. George doesn’t run to me like he normally does.
Odd.
Instead, my eyes land on a scene that sends my stomach plummeting: Jazlyn is curled up in the corner, her shoulders shaking with sobs. George’s giant head is stuck to her lap. Garrett is crouched in front of her, one hand resting gently on her arm, speaking to her in a low, soothing tone.
What did he do to her?
The sight propels me forward, panic roaring to life in my chest. Garrett hovering over her brings me right back to the day that Devon tried to kill me, the day that he went after Jazlyn. I immediately see her screaming for me, as he laughed and held the knife to her throat.
“Do what I say, Maya, and this all goes away,” he had said. “Jaz will be safe. Your coworkers don’t have to show up and process the scene of your body looking like Swiss cheese.”
His laugh was so haunting, like that vacant look in his eyes as he slurred his words.
“Mommy!” Jaz had screamed, the most blood-curdling sound I’d ever heard.
And I had been frozen, unable to react or do anything because he had hurt me so badly.
The tightness in my chest, the panic, grips me so tightly that I almost drop to my knees and succumb to it. But I can’t. I won’t. I have to make sure my baby is okay.
“Jaz?” I say, my voice sharp as I hurry over.
Garrett turns at the sound, and his eyes meet mine for a brief second before I look away, zeroing in on my daughter.
She’s not hurt. She’s holding his hand and she’s okay. George wouldn’t let him hurt her.
I stop for a second, close my eyes and focus on my breathing. I put my tongue to the roof of my mouth, before I reach out with my mind and take a quick inventory of my senses, grounding myself in reality and safety. I feel the anxiety slowly slipping away, but it’s not entirely gone.
“Mom,” Jaz whimpers.
“What’s going on?” I demand.
Jazlyn sniffles, wiping her face with her sleeve, and Garrett straightens, taking a step back as if to give me space.
“Is she okay? What happened?” I direct the question to him, my words clipped. “What did you do to her?”