I will always be ready.
She doesn’t speak; she just holds me with a bone crushing force. After a minute of her holding on and letting out all her grief, she pulls back and stares into my eyes. I’m sure mine are just as red rimmed and wet as hers. No need to hold it in now. The pressure, stress, worry, and heartbreak from the last few days just roll off me. The adrenaline that I have been running on vanishes the second I hold her in my arms.
“He’s really okay?” She asks, running her small hands over my cheeks, through my beard, and down my chest, as if she is assessing me for injuries of some sort.
“He’s really okay, Beauty. Having trouble sleeping unless he is holding my hand or I’m holding him, but he’s really okay.”
“You?” Her hands are still roaming over my body. When she gets to my hands and sees the damage to my knuckles, she doesn’t ask. She just brings my hands to her lips and starts crying again.
“Melissa, look at me.” I wait until she calms down and brings her eyes up to mine. “I need you to rally it together, pull that strength that I know you have together, and help me. I want to fall apart too, baby, but right now, we need to pull it together for our boy, yeah?”
She takes a few deep breaths and nods her head. She has to visibly collect herself when we start the walk to Cohen’s side of the truck.
“He’s been awake since Mississippi, finally crashed somewhere mid-Alabama, but he’s okay.” We stand there and take him in. Safe and sound.
His lips pucker slightly in his sleep, but every few seconds, they curl up in a smile. His light brown hair is a crazy mess, and his clothes have various food stains over every inch of fabric. But right now, right now, he couldn’t look anymore perfect.
That night, I have to deal with reporting that Cohen is home. It is a damn good thing that I have such a close relationship with almost every cop, detective, and P.I in the area. They don’t ask many questions when I tell them that I am the one who found him. Well, one of them did, but Maddox stepped in, and with a shake of his head, the rookie cop shut his mouth. The child is safe and that is what it all boils down too. I did have one pull me aside as he was leaving to ask if he should still be looking for Susan Wagner and her partner. I don’t say a word, but he would be a fucking idiot to miss the look that I give him.
I brief the guys on what has happened, and let them fill in the blanks.
As I was leaving for Vegas, Maddox started doing what he is best at. He sat down in his room full of computers and searched until he found the trail.
When Mandy had begun to realize that I really was done with her, she became obsessed with breaking up Melissa and me. She had made it her personal mission to find out everything she could about us. It wasn’t hard to see that she had been stalking Melissa for months. When Coop went to her apartment, she had walls and walls of pictures. Some of Melissa, some of me, some of Cohen, but the majority were ones with three of us together. The only difference was that she had put her face over Melissa’s. She had created this whole fantasy life where we were going to live happily ever after with our little boy.
Disgusted doesn’t even come close to how I feel about that. We have all agreed that it is best to mention that to no one.
We still aren’t clear on the how, but she had hooked up with Susan and hired the man we later identified as Bruno Clark to snatch Cohen. They didn’t seem to have a set plan after that, because the trail ended in Vegas.
When I found out just how sick Mandy was, I was glad she was rotting somewhere deep in the bowels of Vegas. I struggled with not knowing for sure what happened to her. In the end, I had to call Braxx. His answer was to leave it be and just know that bitch wouldn’t touch my family again. She was gone and I’m pretty fucking sure it was best I didn’t know where she ended up. Sure bet, it was a living hell on earth.
The first few nights home are rough. We sit down and explain to Cohen that his Nana got her wings, and now she is going to sit in the clouds and watch over him. He handles it as well as a three-year-old can, but later in the day, when he gets tired, he starts asking for Nana again. Melissa has to leave the room because she doesn’t want him to see her breakdown, but I know that’s what is happening.
After another talk about angels and heaven, he seems to understand a little better.
That night, he falls asleep between us.
The next night is a little easier but he still isn’t able to leave our bed.
It isn’t until another week after the funeral that he is finally able to sleep in his own bed.