Broken - LS Silverii Page 0,3
parking lot.
Ricky was alone, but she saw the silhouette of a baby’s safety seat in the rear. Her heart quickened. Shit, she had no way of defending herself or Jack. The nightmare that had kept her awake for years had just become a reality.
He smiled like a jackal as he walked up. “Happy birthday son, your daddy’s back.”
“Please go, Ricky.” Abigail pressed both hands against his chest.
“No way in hell. I love that boy. Which one is he?” His slitted gaze darted from child to child.
“You got no right to be here. You ain’t got a legal order.” She looked him dead in the eye and said the words as if she knew what the hell she was talking about. In actuality all she knew about the law was to not break it, and what she’d learned by watching Judge Judy.
He shoved his hand deep into his back pocket and yanked out a crumpled piece of paper. Purposefully taking a long time to unfold it, he flapped it in her face.
She bit down hard on her bottom lip. Her left arm folded across her chest, while her right picked at the cheap gold cross hanging around her neck.
“Got myself an emergency order from the judge, herself. Said she couldn’t imagine what kind of woman would hide a son away from its father. That judge told me to come and get my boy.”
She didn’t bother looking at the papers. Ricky had anyone who could be bought in his back pocket. It made no difference to her what the form might say.
He waved the papers in her face so the sharp corner sliced a thin line just beneath her cheek. Her head jerked back. Before he could do it again she snatched the papers from his hand and tore them in two.
“I don’t give a shit what it says. You got no right being here.”
His backhand caught her off guard, though she should’ve been expecting it. It wasn’t the first time she’d felt the bite of the gaudy diamond ring he wore on his pinky.
Her head snapped back and she went to her knees, her vision blurry. The coppery tang of blood filled the inside of her mouth. She spit it out at his feet. She shook her head once—twice—trying to clear her mind, and tried to get back to her feet.
She hated that she’d never been strong enough to face him down when the stakes were high. The bliss hadn’t lasted long with Ricky. But long enough for a few broken bones and the baby she would’ve suffered through a multitude of broken bones to protect.
His hand tangled in her hair and jerked her head back. “You were saying, bitch?”
Her eyes rolled side to side. It did no good to fight. He was too strong.
“It’s his birthday, Ricky,” she pleaded. “Don’t be this way. He doesn’t even know who you are.” Her words tumbled one on top of the other as her panic grew. “You—you don’t even have a home for him. No toys or his bed.”
A semi flew by. Dust and grit flew into her face. She blinked rapidly and felt sand between her teeth. The sounds of laughter and conversation were no more. The party had been abandoned. Just like her. Heat radiated down on her skin until she thought it would crack like the fissures in the dirt lot. Fear clawed at her belly.
“I done hit it rich, baby. A cool quarter-million-dollar deal. Had to pay a pilot twenty grand, but it was worth it. So, yeah, I got me and my boy a crib to crash.”
She bit back a whimper as he jerked at her hair again. He’d fucked someone over for that cash. Only Ricky was too ignorant to realize those same people would come looking for him.
Her eyes rolled again toward the partygoers gathered beneath the metal-framed community pavilion that looked as if one strong gust of wind would topple it to the ground. She desperately sought to make eye contact with someone—anyone—to beg for help. But no one glanced in her direction. She could only be grateful they hadn’t left Jack alone to watch her suffer. It was his party after all.
But in a fleeting community of illegals and most wanted, it was always the practice to mind your own damn business. Besides, she’d noticed the 9mm pistol shoved in his waistband—chances were, they had too.
She scratched at his wrist, but he slapped her unpainted fingernails away from the new Rolex.
“Ricky, please not today,”