Wrapped in Chains - Nicola Jane Page 0,61

“Comfort,” he clarifies. Next, I hold up the dress. It’s ankle length with frills and puffy sleeves. “Again, comfort.”

I slip them on reluctantly. “I feel like a ninety-year-old,” I mutter.

Ryan looks at me approvingly and smiles. “Stunning,” he mutters.

He leads me downstairs. I’ve never been to the first floor. There’s a large kitchen, dining room, and a living room. We sit on the couch and he turns on the television. I’m too busy looking around the room to take much notice as he chooses a film for us to watch. Pictures of a little boy growing fill the walls. Some contain his parents and others are just of him playing. I spot a few pictures of Ryan with Sara. They look happy. “You look like a happy child,” I say.

“My parents did so much for me,” he says. “I was raised well.”

“Does your mum know I’m here? I’d love to meet her.”

“She’s not well. Dementia, I think.”

“A new face might cheer her up,” I suggest. “She must get tired of the same four walls. And don’t you want her to know the woman who brought your daughter into the world?” I say. I can tell he’s thinking it over and I settle back into the couch to watch the film.

The next morning, Ryan comes to me early. “Okay. You can meet Mum. Only because she should meet Matilda’s mother.”

“That’s what you want to call her?” I ask.

He nods with a smile. “Sara chose it.”

He unlocks the chain and holds one end. I follow him down the stairs and into a room where there’s an elderly lady in the bed. Maybe in her seventies. She’s staring at a picture and doesn’t look at us when we enter the room. “Mum,” he says gently. “Look who came to see you.”

She looks up from her picture, and when she sees me, she smiles wide. “Sara,” she gasps. “You came.”

“I told you she would, Mum,” says Ryan, leading me in further. I stare at him with confusion, but he ignores me. His mum pats the bed and Ryan urges me to sit down. Her hand goes to my stomach and she rubs my bump. “Soon, she’s coming soon,” she says and I nod. “I’m so excited. When will she be here?”

“I told you, Mum. August twenty-eighth,” says Ryan. He joins her and places his hand on my stomach. I want to scream at him not to touch me. He repulses me.

Chapter Eighteen

Chains

I stuff four painkillers into my mouth and drink the water. “You’re taking way too many of those,” says Raven. She wipes my eyebrow. It’s split open and refuses to stay closed no matter how many times she sticks those little sticky strips across it. She’s looking so much better and can stand using crutches to help support her pelvis.

The door crashes open and Vinn glares at us. “You better have some information about where the hell she is,” he yells.

Riggs looks up from the table in the kitchen. “Fuck me, another pumped-up asshole out to rescue my sister,” he mutters. He hands baby Willow over to Anna and stands. “You’re just in time for church. I’ll let you sit in just to piss that asshole off,” he says, pointing to me.

I get into church and Vinn is sitting in my seat. Riggs is watching me with a smirk on his face. I don’t react—there’re more important things on my mind right now. I stand against the wall and wait for everyone to settle down. Before Riggs bangs the gavel to declare the meeting open, I throw the notepad into the centre of the table. “Every address, every house he’s ever owned and rented.”

“You want a medal?” snaps Riggs. Vinn snatches up the pad and flicks through the pages.

“Let’s get out there then,” says Vinn, heading for the door.

“Actually,” says Blade, halting Vinn. “I found some stuff out myself. It’s not a good idea to go charging in there. He’s mentally unstable.”

“No shit,” I snap. “He took Leia, of course he’s fuckin’ crazy.”

“He lost his girlfriend recently. She was pregnant with his kid,” mutters Blade.

“Am I meant to feel sorry for this psycho?” I snap. “He lost his so he took mine?”

“She ain’t yours,” mutters Riggs.

“You know, instead of constantly trying to piss me off and reminding me how I have no claim to the mother of my kid, why don’t you tell us what the fuck to do? Isn’t that your job as the president?” I growl.

Riggs stands abruptly. “You looking for