Swallowing hard, I shook more as my gaze met with those sweet brown eyes, love and belief and innocence still shining through.
Without even making sense of it, I was moving, taking two hesitant steps forward, knowing I was supposed to stay.
To wait.
I broke out in a sprint. Awkwardly. My heels clattered against the sidewalk, and my pulse thundered and spun, a frenzy urging me forward.
Claribel stopped at the bottom of the three steps that led to the house. Kallie’s hand was still secured in hers.
A foot away, I fell to my knees. Concrete ripped at my stockings and cut into my skin.
But none of that registered.
The only thing I felt was the desperate ache to hold my daughter.
Kallie.
I choked. Tears fell fast and free, soaking my face.
I reached for her. Pulled her to me. The warmth of her tiny body pressed into my chest. My face got lost in ringlet curls, and I breathed her in, hugging her close, my mouth at her ear. “I missed you, Butterfly. I missed you.”
God, I’d missed her so much it was frightening.
Terrifying.
My body wept with the residual pain and torment crashing violently with this welcomed remedy.
Little arms wrapped tightly around my neck. “Mommy.” She said it so quietly. As if she were testing if it were true. Wondering if I really was there. Then she breathed out her own relief, letting go of some of her fear while she clung to me.
“It’s okay, sweet girl. I have you. I have you.”
Slowly, I climbed to my feet, taking Kallie with me.
Claribel Sanchez inclined her head down the walk. “We should go.”
Nodding, I wrapped my arm tighter around Kallie, my free hand pressed to the back of her head. She buried her face in my neck, and her little heart beat so hard against mine. Frantically, I kissed the top of her head. “I have you,” I whispered again as I followed the social worker down the walkway.
Claribel Sanchez opened the back door of the Suburban and placed a bag inside, one that had not belonged to Kallie two days ago. Part of me wanted to rip it from where she set it on the floor. To throw it to the ground. To trample it into dust. To erase any memories of the past two days.
For Kallie as much as for myself.
Instead, I edged around her and reluctantly settled Kallie in the booster seat, loathed to let her go. I buckled her in and kissed her on the forehead, moved to her temple, then to her tiny nose.
On the tiniest giggle, she lifted her trusting face to me and a smile whispered at the corner of her red-bow lips.
I could feel Sebastian, the gravity of his stare, the power of energy that glimmered in the confined space. I looked up and met his strange grey eyes, saw the heavy swallow that bobbed his throat as his gaze drifted to my baby girl.
Affection.
Love.
Adoration.
My head spun with the magnitude of it.
“Hi, Baz.” Kallie’s timid voice broke into the charged air, her sweet little drawl tugging at me from all angles. A hint of that unending exuberance bled through her greeting.
A soft smile edged Sebastian’s mouth.
“Hey, Little Bug. You ready to go home?”
Her smile grew and she kicked her feet. “I so, so, so ready.”
“Let’s get you out of here,” I said, and I kissed her forehead again, unable to stop, before I finally forced myself to step back and shut her door.
Claribel Sanchez stood there waiting, before she gave me a slight tilt of her head. “I will need to follow up in a couple of weeks. Take care of her.”
“Always.”
She got into her car and drove away.
I started for the front passenger’s door when I felt the presence behind me. Mouth going dry, I froze with my hand clamped down on the door handle.
Sickness crawled across the surface of my skin.
He inched closer. My instincts kicked in. My body shrank away, my eyes squeezed tight, and my lungs sealed off.
Cringing.
Cowering.
I hated he still evoked this reaction in me.
Greed and conceit and spite pressed into my senses, and my lungs burned with restraint until I could do nothing but take in a sharp breath.
That smell.