“Why is that kid still screaming?”
Nolan’s growled question makes Soren cry louder. He balls his fists near his face in what strikes me as frustration, not fear. I lay my hand on his chest, but my touch does little to soothe him. I can’t blame him. Comfort isn’t going to help us. We need to get away from Nolan before he meets up with another group of shifters in order to do an exchange. One of Nolan’s sons for Soren, and me for his mate.
On a shaky exhale, I make peace with what I must do. As much as I ache for Nolan’s situation, I can’t allow my family to be sacrificed for his, and without Ilan, Soren is relying on me. I won’t fail him. He’s my reason for living now. “Soren’s hungry. He hasn’t eaten in hours.”
“Well, he’s going to have to suck it up. I didn’t bring the diaper bag with us.”
“Babies don’t suck it up and deal with hunger. They scream until their needs are met. It’s instinctual, nature’s way for them to ensure they’re not forgotten, not left alone to suffer.” My statement is met with silence. While I don’t want to add to his guilt, I can’t let this go. I’m fighting for my family now. “When your boys were babies, they would’ve cried for food, attention, and comfort too. And if they didn’t get their needs met, they would’ve suffered, emotionally and physically, just as Soren is now.”
Nolan doesn’t say anything, but he flicks his gaze to the rearview mirror. Soren would be visible in it. He lets out a heart-wrenching, whimpering cry.
“Hunger pains are scary for babies at this age, Nolan. They think they’re going to die alone. That nobody cares about them. That nobody loves them. Soren likely understands he lost Ilan, and now he’s hungry and thinks he’s been abandoned completely.”
Nolan smacks the steering wheel on a raw curse. “I can’t do anything about it. The kid’s just going to have to cry.”
“My house is only a couple of minutes away. Maybe not even that long.” I point at the approaching street. “Take a right there, and it’s on the next block.”
“You’ve got milk there?”
“And diapers. It won’t take long. I’ll even feed him in the backseat while we’re driving. It’ll delay us a few minutes, if that.” Nolan said he had to meet a deadline or lose his chance at recovering part of his family. After the mine explosion and the loss of Gabriel, those shifters he struck a deal with are ready to abort this mission, calling the experiment a failure, before they lose any more members of their pride.
Nolan flicks his gaze to me, then makes a sharp right, no turn signal, no braking. I smack my head against the window and grab the door handle. Nolan steps on the gas, the tires squealing. “You think to try anything, and I’ll knock you out. You won’t even get to say goodbye to the kid.”
Saying a little grateful prayer, I nod, then point at the entrance to the alley. “There. Park behind—”
“I know where you live, Sara. I was the one who gave your address to the shifter who attacked you.”
I bite my tongue instead of telling him he’s acted like a coward. It won’t do any good. In his mind, he’s doing what he must to get his family back. “How do you know they even have your mate and son? They could be lying to you, using your desperation to manipulate you into getting what they want.”
“They could be.” Nolan pulls in front of the gate to my yard. “But I’m willing to take that risk.”
“Risk?” I sound shocked and angry. I don’t care. I am shocked and angry. “You’re willing to sell me and Soren into slavery. That’s not a risk. It’s the act of a desperate man.”
“Determined sounds better. Let’s go with that.” Nolan turns off the car, gets out, and snatches the car seat from the back. Soren’s cries intensify. Nolan strides toward the gate, ignoring the wailing. I hurry to keep up and follow him up the stairs. He’s not watching me to make sure I don’t run or scream for help. He’s ignoring me.
He rams his shoulder into my kitchen door. The glass shatters. He reaches inside, and turns the dead bolt, opens the door, then enters. On a hard thump, he places the car seat on the table in the same spot where Ilan did the first night Soren stayed here. Memories skip across my mind, and the loss of Ilan hits me, threatening to destroy me. My eyes burn with unshed tears. There hasn’t been time to shed them.
“Cry later, Sara.” Nolan turns his back on me and heads to my living room, yanking the house line off the wall as he walks past it. “You have five minutes.”
After a moment, Nolan’s voice carries to me from the living room, him telling someone he’s been delayed a few minutes. I tune the conversation out. I tune everything out because Nolan’s right. I can cry later.
With my gaze on Nolan’s back, I rush to the counter and yank a knife from the wooden block. Although tempted to lunge at him now, I hurry back to Soren’s car seat and stash the knife under the plaid blanket, far enough out of reach he can’t touch the sharp edge. Soren’s cries stop for the briefest of moments. His gaze meets mine. I smile at him, letting him see my love and my determination to protect him, then turn away. Nolan’s expecting me to prep a bottle.
Soren’s cries resume, louder than before without my gaze on him. Everything I am demands I go back to him. Instead, I hurry through the motions of mixing the formula and warming the bottle under the stream of hot water. Nolan snatches it out of my hand just as steamy water flows from the tap.
“It’s warm enough.” He shoves the car seat at me, then turns off the tap. “Let’s go.”
I tuck the car seat under my arm and rest my other hand on top of Soren’s blanket. The outline of the knife’s hilt is under my palm. I flex my fingers, resisting the urge to grip the knife. Nolan’s walking away from me. It’d be foolish to attack him now. I ease my hand from the blanket and follow behind him. I’ll get one chance at saving us. Just one. I need to make it count.