I don’t waste any time getting the plates switched out and hitting on the road to home. Cohen stirs a few times, and each time ends with his screaming before jolting himself awake. Then when he looks around and sees my face, an instant calm comes over him. Breaks my heart to think about what he’s been through, but I have to consider us somewhat lucky that it isn’t much, much worse.
About five hours into our drive, I call to check in. Izzy says they had to sedate her again when she realized that I wasn’t there. She is hopeful that when she gives her the news that I am on the way back with Cohen that she will be able to regain some sense of reality. Right now, she is too far lost in her grief. It kills to know that she is sitting in a cold hospital room scared, heartbroken, and alone.
When I finally can’t stay awake any longer, I pull over somewhere around the middle of Texas. I’m making good time, but it’s becoming an issue with our safety if I stay awake. Cohen must be in the same boat as me because he only rouses for a few hours before drifting off again.
I check us into a no-name motel for a few hours. Scooping up Cohen and locking the van, we make our way inside. I lock the door and carry him over to the bed, not even bothering to pull back the sheets. Laying down and tucking him close to my body, I close my arms around him, and seconds later, I am out cold.
When I wake up a few hours later, my mind is hazy, and it takes me a few minutes to remember where I am and why I am there. When I don’t feel Cohen immediately, I jolt out of bed in a panic.
Looking around the room, I let out the breath I’m holding when I see him sitting on the end of the bed happily watching TV.
“Cohen,” I say on a long exhale.
“Your face looks funny, Daddy.” And just like that, I am leveled. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I pull him in tight and just hold him, thanking every God I can think of that he is fine. “Your face is making my neck itchy.” He giggles.
“Sorry, little man, hasn’t been any time to take care of all my tickle fingers,” I joke before rubbing my chin on his little neck.
After we finish laughing, I pull him back and take him in head to toe. “You okay? I know it must have been scary. You’re such a brave little man.”
He looks at me for a few minutes, his face getting all scrunched up before relaxing, and like nothing has happened, he smiles. “Silly, I knew you would come. You have super powers, remember?”
Of course, super powers.
“That’s right. I’ll always come.” I run my hand through his hair and give him a kiss on his forehead before climbing to my full height. “Alright, sidekick time. All great superheroes have them. Your job is to help me fly our magical van home as quickly as possible. Think you can handle that?”
He jumps off the bed and starts running around animatedly, telling me how we are going to make it home before SpongeBob is even over.
He lost me at SpongeBob, but I can go with that.
The next fifteen hours of our drive are draining. Cohen is restless, but every time he falls asleep, he wakes back up with a scream. I am starting to worry about what might have happened before I arrived. When I try to talk to him about it, he says that the smelly people made him get in the bathtub, and said if he made any noise, they would hurt his aunt. We don’t talk about it after that, but I make a mental note to ask Izzy for the doctor’s name that helped her after her run-in with her ex-husband.
When we finally cross over the Georgia border, I have been gone for over three days. Three days that I needed to be home. Three days that my woman has been suffering without me.
The last check in from Izzy has left me feeling a lot better. She told me that she is with Melissa at our house and she is dealing much better. She still has moments when she will break down, but for the most part, she seems oddly hyper and very obviously waiting on our return.
It is pushing close to late afternoon when we finally pull into town. I have Maddox and Coop meet me at the town line with my truck so that they can dispose of the van while I get home to Melissa. No fucking way I am risking everything by driving that van right up to the door. I am going to have a hard enough time just explaining how I happen to show up with the child everyone is looking for.
My wheels haven’t even crossed the end of the driveway when I see her. Flying through the front door, she is running as fast as she can across the yard to reach the truck. The second she opened that front door, I stop the truck and get out so when she reached me, crashing into my body with enough force to almost knock me to my knees, I am ready.