“Marabelle!” Aunt Lulamae shrieked. “We’re not leavin’ until you open this door and give me my goddamned grandbabies.”
At her words, I instantly let Mitch go, retreated with quick steps, running into the coffee table and stopping as my terrified eyes shot to the door.
Bill. Bill had called them. Fucking, f**king Bill!
“Open the door!” Mom screamed but suddenly Mitch was in my space and in my face.
“Talk to me fast,” he whispered.
“My Mom and Bill’s Mom. Aunt Lulamae.”
“Bad news?” he asked.
I nodded. “The worst.”
“I thought you said you were the only relative local,” Mitch observed.
“They’re not local. They live in Iowa. I haven’t seen them since I left. It’s been thirteen years.”
His eyes flashed. “That assclown called them,” he muttered.
I nodded again.
“Marabelle!” Mom screeched.
“Seriously, keep it down or I’m callin’ the cops.” I heard Derek’s voice enter the cacophony.
“Fuck you!” Aunt Lulamae shot back.
“You’re not close,” Mitch noted, and my gaze went from his shoulder to him to see his eyes looking deep into mine.
“Things weren’t good at home,” I whispered and Mitch’s jaw went hard.
More pounding on the door then Aunt Lulamae, “Get your fat ass outta bed and open this door!”
“Stop shouting!” Derek shouted.
“The kids?” Mitch asked.
I shook my head. “Bill hates them just as much as me. The kids have never met either one of them.”
“Marabelle!” Mom shrieked.
“Get outta sight,” Mitch ordered and I blinked up at him.
“What?” I asked.
“Right, I’m callin’ the cops,” Derek stated.
“Go right ahead! I hope you do. You live next to a f**kin’ kidnapper!” Aunt Lulamae shouted.
“Mara, now,” Mitch clipped urgently, “outta sight.”
“I don’t –”
His hand came up to cup my cheek. “Now, baby.”
I nodded. Then I raced to the end of the hall where the door to the kids’ room was. I pressed against the side wall, prayed they slept deep and didn’t wake to hear this.