Her Stolen Son Read Free Page B

Tell Petey I love him. And don’t let him end up in the system. I grew up there myself. It’s not pretty.”
    He’d been a cop long enough to know what could happen, too. But the law was the law, and his hands were tied.
    Petey was going back to Magnolia Manor.
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    S ERENA PACED the jail cell, the tiny space closing around her. The nauseating scent of old sweat, urine and dirt wafted around her, nearly suffocating her.
    She felt trapped. Panicky. And worried sick about her son.
    Colt Mason’s face flashed into her mind, and a sliver of something frightening stirred in her belly. He had astrong, prominent jaw that seemed permanently set in anger. That crooked nose, the scar on his forehead and his black, intense eyes gave him a menacing look.
    But she’d heard a tenderness in his voice when he’d mentioned Petey. And if he worked with GAI—and she had seen his badge as proof—then he had to answer to his boss and the other agents, meaning he had to be legitimate.
    His questions about Lyle also roused her own questions. What would the sheriff tell him about her case? Sheriff Gray had to have some kind of evidence to hold her. But what kind of evidence could he possibly have against her?
    Her shoulders and body ached with fatigue and tension, and she collapsed onto the cot, sick at the thought of having to spend the night in the cell.
    At the thought of Petey sleeping in a foster home or orphanage where God knew what could happen to him.
    He was so little, so young. He wouldn’t know how to protect himself against the bullies or the street-savvy kids. And he didn’t have enough strength to protect himself if one of the caretakers assaulted him.
    Memories of one foster father in particular taunted her, and she automatically rubbed at the scar below her breastbone.
    His wife…she’d been just as bad. A religious fanatic who’d sacrificed Serena to her husband in order to save herself from his vile touches. God’s will, the woman had said.
    But God never meant for a man to do the things thatman had done to her. God never meant for people to hurt children.
    Tears threatened again, but she willed them away and let her mind go to that safe place where she’d retreated as a child. Where nothing could hurt her. Not the evil touches of those who pretended to care for children, not their hateful words or degrading comments or their beatings.
    She was not that little girl anymore. She was strong. She had found love once. She had a son, and she would die protecting him.
    Suddenly exhausted, she lay back on the cot and closed her eyes. But just as she was about to fall asleep, the image of Lyle Rice’s face materialized. Then her foster father.
    Except this time he and Lyle were teaming up, and they were both chasing Petey…
    She jerked up, shaking all over, a chill skating up her spine.
    Please, Colt, help me. And please hurry…
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    P ETEY ROCKED back and forth in the big chair, his legs dangling. Mr. Colt had been gone a long time.
    He kept staring at the door, hoping he’d come in any minute.
    Hoping his mommy would be with him and she’d take him home. And this horrible day would be over.
    Mr. Colt’s friend Mr. Derrick set a drawing pad and some crayons on the coffee table. “Wanna draw while we wait on Colt to get back?”
    He stared at the crayons and paper for a minute. Hewas a pretty good drawer. But he didn’t feel like drawing. His stomach was growling and jumping up and down, he was so hungry.
    Maybe he should have broken out of jail after that mac and cheese.
    Petey shook his head. “No. I wanna go home.”
    Mr. Derrick nodded. “I know. Maybe when Colt returns, he can tell us when you and your mother can go home.”
    Footsteps squeaked on the floor. His heart pounded. He sat up straighter. His mommy was coming back now. She’d hug him hard, and then they’d get lunch and ice cream and forget about this