Page 1 of Fallout
PROLOGUE
JUNE
Yanked from sleep with a bone cracking jolt, Jake sprang off the couch and vaulted the back of it. Two lurching steps and he snatched his ringing cell off the kitchen counter.
A quick glance at the screen caused him to frown but he hit accept and brought the phone to his ear. “Hello? Ry?”
“Jake.”
He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. When was the last time he’d heard his best friend’s voice? Did he even have the right to call Ry that anymore? “I didn’t expect—”
“Why is Renee at my house?”
“She’s there!” Oh god. Finally. “Ry, you have to call the police. Hang up and call the police. There’s an AMBER Alert out for Maddox. Does she have him with her?”
Fuck! If she didn’t have… He grabbed the counter one handed in a white-knuckled grip, locked his knees to stay upright, and clamped the fingers around his phone tight enough he heard the plastic case crack against his ear.
“Please tell me she has him with her,” he choked out through his constricted throat.
“What?” Ry shouted in his ear. “An AMBER Alert?”
“I have primary custody. She’s supposed to only have supervised visits. On her last one, three weeks ago, she managed to convince the supervisor to let her take him to the change room at the mall on her own.” He swallowed down the anger and fear closing off his airway, crushing his chest, and fought the impulse to punch the wall. “No one has seen either of them since.”
Fuck.
Three weeks of going out of his mind wondering where in the hell Renee had taken his son.
Three weeks of wondering if Maddox was okay.
Three weeks of dead ends and fearing the worst.
Three weeks of praying he’d see his son again—hold him.
“I. Shit. Jake. What the fuck happened?”
They didn’t have time for explanations. Not now. “Can you please hang up and call the police to get them to your house? Don’t let her know you’re doing it. Oh god, is she listening? You can’t let her know. She’ll run again.” He couldn’t survive another day without knowing where his son was, if Mad was okay.
“No. I’m not home. Someone else was there when Renee arrived. As far as I know, she and the boy are still there.” Before Jake could breathe a sigh of relief, Ry said, “I’ll call you back,” and hung up.
The next two hours were the longest and worst of Jake’s life. Forget the three weeks before. They were nothing compared to the torture of knowing where his son was and yet not.
He had no idea where Ry lived now.
No idea if the police had arrived and taken Renee into custody.
And more importantly, no idea if Mad was all right, if his little boy remained unharmed.
The last time Renee had had Maddox unsupervised, she’d left him in her apartment—alone—for eighteen hours.
He’d been six months old.
Jake paced.
Picked up his phone to call Ry back too many times to count.
Thought about throwing it across the room when it stayed silent just as many.
But like the fist to the wall earlier, he checked each impulse, and waited.
