LOGIN[Addison]
Everything hurts, especially my head which aches as I open my eyes and turn my head.
Michael is sitting next to me, his eyes bright with excitement as he reaches forward and pulls my hand towards his, kissing it gently. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he grins brightly, “You had me worried.”
“Michael, what happened?” the strange lights burn my eyes as I blink awake. “How did I end up in the hospital? I…”
“You’re pregnant, Addy!” The smile on his face widens as he scoots closer to the bed. “After all this time! Can you believe it!”
Pregnant? I can’t be pregnant. I was going to leave Michael, but if I’m pregnant, that changes everything.
“The doctors say you are entering your third month,” his joy shines brightly, as he babbles about all of the things he wants to do for our new little one–designing a nursery and getting all the best things. “We need to set up your prenatal appointments and get a baby monitor and find a nanny and….”
He wants to be a father again so badly. I was so ready to leave him, but now…maybe I misjudged him. He says he isn’t involved with Evelyn. If I love him, I would trust him.
But those messages on Jayson’s tablet…Evelyn is acting like she’s Jayson’s mother.
“Michael, I need to ask you something.” I interrupt and he pauses, taking a breath. “Is Evelyn Jayson’s biological mother?”
“Why would you ask such a thing?” Michael scoffs, offended. “She can’t possibly be his mother. I found him in a dumpster, remember? And Evelyn can’t have kids. She’s always wanted them, but she’s never been able to conceive.” My husband frowns. “She loves children–that’s why she became a teacher. Don’t think about it too hard.”
Hearing about Evelyn’s struggles with infertility melts the ice around my heart towards her. I too know what it’s like to wish to have a child of my own. I love Jayson as much as if I had birthed him, but I’ve always wanted to feel the wonder of having a little life growing inside of me.
Could it be that Evelyn has that same wish?
Maybe I’ve misjudged them both.
Michael wouldn’t budge from that chair except to bring me water, food, or entertainment. He insisted he stay next to me, even after I told him he could go home. “If I leave you, something else might happen,” he joked.
“You can’t stay here all day,” I smile at him, my heart willing to give him another chance. “Don’t you need to work?”
“I told the office not to call,” he promises, kissing my brow. “I’m all yours until the doctors send you home.”
Michael’s pocket buzzes as he bends to retake his seat. “I told them not to…” he looks at his phone and stops mid-word. “I…I’m sorry, I wouldn’t normally answer but this is important.”
He rushes from the room without a backward glance, his mind already somewhere else. I am used to this, it is often the way he is with work, and I don’t resent him for it. I know how important it is to build a company from scratch–I helped him build it.
Although it does make me lonely sometimes.
A few hours later he returns with our son. “Mommy?” His little voice calls from the doorway. “Mommy I made you a present.”
As Michael helps me out of bed, my son hands me a lovingly crafted doll. “Look what I made at school!”
“Wow, Jayson,” I give him my best smile as I hug him to my waist. “When did you learn to sew so well?”
“I’m sorry I was mad yesterday,” he presses the doll to my chest, promising me that she’ll make me feel better.
Michael drops me back at home, his phone ringing as yet another emergency pulls him away. “Take care of one another,” he kisses us both on the tops of our heads before rushing out the front door.
Jayson and I play together until it is time for me to prepare dinner. Looking up at the clock, my son turns and asks, “Can I play outside.”
“It’s 5:30,” I frown. “It’s already starting to get dark. It’s too late.”
“But Mom,” he whines. “Just for a few minutes. I won’t leave the yard.”
I tell him it’s a bad idea but he persists.
“Pleeeeze,” he begs, his large blue eyes blinking innocently. “I want you to come with me. We can play together.”
“Okay, but only for a few minutes,” I relent, happy that Jayson wants to spend time with me.
As soon as I open the door, Jayson starts running around the yard like a tightly wound spring. Still exhausted and sore from this morning, I do my best to stay with him, but he has always been an energetic child, and today is no exception. He runs to the edge of our yard and balances on the curb.
“Come on, Mommy,” he calls out. “Let’s play!”
He leans toward the street, almost falling.
“Come away from the street, Jayson,” I call out.
He doesn’t listen. Looking over his shoulder he taunts me, inviting me to chase him.
“You can’t catch me, Mommy!” he laughs as he runs down the street towards a dark alley.
“Come back here right now, Jayson” I gasp, leaning over to rest on my knees for a moment before giving chase again. “Mommy’s serious, this isn’t a joke.”
Following his laughter I turn a corner.
Standing in the middle of the alley, a bright overhead light shines down on him like a heavenly light, and he points a finger directly at my chest. “There she is.”
“Jay…”
A rag smelling of chemicals covers my mouth and nose while strong arms grab me around the face and torso. My eyes start to close as I reach out for my son. “Jayson!!” I try to scream but the rag clamps down even tighter.
Inhaling one more time I call my son’s name.
“Jayson,” I gasp as my son’s image blurs in the distance, my eyes losing focus before they finally close.
Greetings! Thank you for taking the time to read my new story! This week I'm getting a bit of a slow start, but I promise more regular updates starting next week. My goal is to have the first 30K words up and ready for you before the end of this month!
For a moment, I consider going back into the room where Adam lay dying in his own blood. As unsafe as that room is, how disastrous it would be to find myself caught there, holding my little girl, waiting for death to come through the door, what I’ve come out into might be worse. I had thought I’d make it to the service elevator, or maybe the emergency stairs, but both exits are blocked by broken bodies, their hands loosely clutched to weapons that have fallen from their hands, as their comrades file in over them, creating a mob scene out of Vandersteele Tower executive floor lobby.Clutching Livy even tighter to my chest, I block her ears from the sounds of gunfire and screams as I scan the room for any way out. Maybe, if I head down this hall a bit further, there might be another exit. If Vandersteele Tower is anything like Grant Group’s main office, there are several emergency exits. Nobody wanted to be stuck in a building that could easily switch to a death trap if something drast
Gargling, Adam stumbles, his hand grasping his stomach as he falls to his knees, his body slamming into the ground with a bone-shattering force. If my captor feels it, he doesn’t show it on his face, which is blank with shock and confusion, as if he isn’t sure how he ended up on the ground when just a moment ago he was charging towards my little girl. Wrapping my arms protectively around Olivia, I hold her shaking body to my chest. She’s only 6 years old. I’m not sure there is enough therapy in the world to help her overcome this moment of terror. She was just driven to pick up a gun to protect herself and the only woman she’s called mama since the death of her real mother, Jane. The wound may have been accidental, but the sight of this man dying because she threw a gun at him in fear and self-defense will stick with her. Like every other wound she’s received this year at the hands of Debrassy and his men. The weight of that thought settles heavy around my shoulders. Vanessa Vander
Adam stiffens. Standing up roughly, he tightens his hold on my hair, pulling me up by my scalp and his gun falls, rattling to the ground, releasing the bullet that had been in the barrel. Light flashes as the bullet hurdles to the large windows, shattering the glass. “Kill the girl,” he snarls. “Maybe that will loosen her words.” Still holding me by the nape, he looks around, searching for his gun. But it isn’t there. And Olivia Grant is no longer screaming. The gun cocks. All heads turn towards my little girl, who is now looking at us all with an eerie clarity. Her hands are still, unshaking, as she glares with the surety of an assassin. One of his men lifts their rifle as Livy aims for Adam’s head. My heart leaps into my throat. “Olivia,” I try to reason with her, my voice steady and calm despite the thundering blood rushing through my ears. “Put down the gun. They won’t hurt you if you put down the gun.”I don’t know if that’s true, but goddamn it, I can’t watch them kil
[Vanessa] Looking around, I briefly surveyed the room. He only brought 5 people with him. They are all big, burly looking individuals, but they are large, and weighted down with weapons and heavy armor. Could I create enough chaos to outrun them? Next to me Livy is beginning to stir as the drugs finally begin to wear off. My poor little girl. She will be so terrified when she realizes how bad the situation has become. She has already survived a similar situation. How long will she need to be in therapy before the nightmares end this time? How long will I be?Thank God he hasn’t figured out I am pregnant. If he knew, he’d likely use my babies, as well as Livy, to force me to do whatever he wants. The problem is, the thing he wants is impossible. He keeps ranting about his family’s luck, and from what I understand, some “Luck device” he is convinced was crafted during WWII in Nazi-controled Germany. It’s so ridiculous, that if I weren’t in the middle of this madness, I’d think it
[Vanessa]Vandersteele Tower had been headquarters to the Vandersteele family fortune. It has been more than 15 years since I stood here with my grandfather. I was his only grandchild, and he wanted me to know the business someday. “You are our little light, Vanessa. Someday all of this will be yours.” As a kid, I thought he meant all of New York. It made me feel like a princess standing in the highest spire of a grand castle as we looked out towards the ocean in the tallest building in the city. My heart clenches as I close my eyes and remember Victor, my grandfather. He was tall, with thick gray hair and a warm, gentle smile. I can’t remember his face, but I do remember how warm his hands felt wrapped around my small fingers, and the feeling of being loved and cherished.I hadn’t thought of him in years. But now, standing here, I can almost see this room bright with sun, the broken furniture elegant and whole. “Do you like the view, Fraulien Vandersteele?” my captor hisses, laughi
[Vanessa]The entire time I thought I had been playing Adam West, keeping him ignorant of my mission and how I was using him to get close to Debrassy’s affairs, but in reality, he was the one waiting to trick me into a dangerous situation. I can still feel his blade on my neck as he threatened my little girl, promising to kill me if she didn’t surrender. Olivia Grant has already lived through so much tragedy, and I worked so hard to keep her life clear of all the mess and intrigue her uncle and I are tangled up in. But it seems even the best renovations, high-tech security systems and talented military-grade staff isn’t enough to keep a monster out of our fortress. For the second time since I’ve met Hunter, Grant Manor lies in ruins, burnt to a crisp. I had promised Livy that she’d never have to face a situation as terrifying as the one she had experienced when we both almost died just a couple of months ago. And yet here we are, thrown into the back of a van with our faces covered,







