Friends with Benefits - Nicole Blanchard Page 0,53

I have anything to say about it.”

She shouldered her purse, her knuckles white from how she gripped the straps. “You’ll hear from me real soon,” she said with dark promise.

She was gone by the time I could unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth. It was ridiculous that I could deal with life-threatening emergencies on a day-to-day basis at work but confronting either one of my parents scared me to death. They disappointed me on a regular basis, but God forbid I ever disappoint them.

With a deep breath, I glanced at my watch and cursed under my breath. Timothy was late. It must mean the bus was a bit behind. On the way down the elevator, I worked on calming down my breathing. The last thing I wanted was for the twins to know something was wrong.

When I got down to the street-side of the apartment complex, the bus was already waiting at the bus stop, but there was no sign of the twins or Timothy. I waited under the awning until the last child got off.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t see my sisters, Molly and Matilda Stevens. Are they still on the bus?” I asked the bus driver.

He was an older man with a silver beard and an old military ball cap. “Their mother picked them up,” he said and snapped his bubblegum.

Instant anger, fiery and destructive, bubbled up in my stomach and threatened to spew from my mouth. With exaggerated calm, I said, “Their mother is not on the list of people allowed to pick them up. In fact, I filled out paperwork with the school to ensure that I was the only one allowed to pick them up.”

The bus driver, clearly in a hurry to move on and not interested in any of my drama, snapped his gum again. “I haven’t heard anything about that. The girls seemed to know her and said she was their mother. Listen, I have a whole other bus of kids to take home.”

“Taking care of children while they’re in your care and ensuring they get home to their proper guardians is your job.” I boarded the bus, and his eyes sparked, but I took out my phone, despite his cursing to do otherwise, and took a photo of his identification, his face, and the contact number listed on the sticker by his seat. “I’ll be in contact with your supervisors.”

“You do that,” he grunted and slammed the doors shut behind me.

I walked blindly around the apartment courtyard after getting off the bus. It was so stupid of me to think that my mom would have gone off quietly into the night after being turned away. Now, she’d taken the twins God-only-knows-where in retaliation. When my senses returned, I called the non-emergency police line and learned that, apparently, a child’s mother could take them wherever the hell they chose. And since I didn’t have an official custody arrangement yet, there wasn’t shit I could do about it. I didn’t know whether to cry or scream. I wanted to do both simultaneously, but it wouldn’t solve anything.

“Thank you for all of your help, you fuck-shit,” I snarled, then threw myself onto a bench and buried my face in my hands. I’d dealt a lot with the police when running calls, but I didn’t see them as the professionals who couldn’t help but do their job. For the moment, they were the people who were supposed to help me but were saying their hands were tied.

Without any other options, I returned to the apartment and began to pace. Finally, I texted my mom at her last known number, praying it was back in service.

ME: Please bring the girls back.

I waited for fifteen tense minutes, checking my phone multiple times for a response. What if she didn’t ever bring them back? What if she disappeared, and I never saw them again? Guilt drove over me in crushing waves. I’d been so negative the past few weeks, so hard on them. I thought back to how harsh I’d been with Molly when she’d walked off in the grocery store. What if she took them, and I never got to tell them how much I loved them?

MOM: I’ll bring them back if and when I’m good and ready. I’m their mother, not you.

I dissolved into a puddle on the couch, dropping my phone to the floor. I never cried, but it was too much. First Chris, then my parents, Tripp, and raising the twins. Plus