Page 182 of Make Me Trust Again
“I know, sweetheart. We’ll find?—”
Rose shakes her head. “No, Kyle is here!”
Spinning on my heels, I catch Shadow sprinting across the grass until she circles the two figures a few yards away from us, making them come to a halt.
“Shadow!” Kyle calls out.
There is a little hitch to his voice, a trace of fear, that makes my blood run cold.
“Fucking hell!”
The low hiss has the hair at my nape rising, as none other than John turns around to face us.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
ROSE
“J-John?” My voice stutters as I just stare at him. “What?Why?”
What is he doing? Why is he doing this?
It doesn’t make any sense.
But he’s here, in the flesh. Anger is radiating off of him in waves as he glares toward us. His hatred is palpable, like it’s a living, breathing thing, making my stomach sink in fear. Because this time around, it isn’t just directed at me.
He has Kyle.
Not just that, he’s clearly not well. The light of a nearby lamp illuminates his face. He hasn’t shaved in days, the dark shadow’s covering his jaw, and his hair’s a mess as if he ran his fingers through it a hundred times. His eyes wander around, shifting between the dog and us; they are bloodshot, pupils blown, with dark circles underneath them, his cheeks red, like he’s been drinking again, which is never a good sign. John has a mean streak on a good day, but if he adds alcohol to the mix, he becomes violent and downright vicious.
And he has my son.
Fear slams into me, making it hard to breathe. My fingers squeeze around Chase’s, but it’s like he doesn’t even notice it at all.
Shadow growls at him once again.
“Stupid beast! I should have gotten rid of you when I had a chance.”
“Don’t hurt her!” Kyle protests, grabbing John’s arm with his free one.
“You be quiet,” John hisses, twisting Kyle’s arm and making him wince.
A sob breaks out of me as Kyle rises on his tiptoes, his lip wobbling in fear as John gets into his face.
“You’re hurting him!” I go toward them, my feet move on their own, or they would if Chase didn’t tug me back.
“No.” John smirks, looking down at Kyle, who’s still trying to pull his arm out of his grip. “I’m teaching him some manners. He should know this is no way to talk to his father, something you obviously failed to do.” His mouth curls in disgust, and he shakes him. “Why are you crying like a little pussy? Real men don’t cry.”
“He’s crying because you’re hurting him!” I protest, my heart breaking as I try to struggle out of Chase’s iron grip. I glare over my shoulder at him. “Let me go.”
Chase gives me a curt shake of his head, his gaze directed at my ex and Kyle, his jaw set. His face’s a mask of cold fury, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. “You can’t,” he says softly, so softly I can barely hear him.
“He has myson, Chase.”
Chase’s gaze darts to me, a deep frown etched between his brows. For a second, I think I see a trace of fear shining in his irises, but it’s gone just as quickly. “I know, but I’m not letting you anywhere near him. He’s not well.”
I press my lips tightly together.
I can understand his hesitance, but I have to get to Kyle.
