Page 4 of Echoes of Danger
“Ma,” he yells. “Hold on, Ma. The ambulance is on its way. Fuck, that’s a lot of blood.”
I’m having a hard time catching my breath as the room starts to dim. I feel pressure against my throat as glimpses of my son’s worried face fade in and out of view.
“I hear them, Ma. Stay with me. HERE. WE’RE IN HERE.”
***present day***
Reaching up, I touch the healing scar on my throat, the jagged line a permanent reminder of that night. Almost sixteen years ago, that same man, a principal at my high school, raped me, resulting in my pregnancy with Elijah when I was just overfourteen years old. Going against my parents’ wishes, I decided not to terminate the pregnancy.
Ultimately, Mr. Honiker…Ryan…was sentenced to fifteen years in prison and released six months early.
But even a sentence like that ends too soon.
Elijah knew about his father. I made sure of it. The details of his life, his face, even how he himself came to be. If I hadn’t, my son might have hesitated that night, and Ryan might have killed us both.
Even still, my heart breaks for my son. Even though Ryan was a bad person, taking someone’s life isn’t easy, even if it was the father that you hated. It’s changed my son in a way I can’t fully understand yet. He’s becoming increasingly protective of me, constantly hovering, trying to protect me from a world he doesn’t trust. I can feel his constant stress. I don’t know how to help him.
Sighing, I grab my keys. We can’t afford therapy, but I’ll do whatever it takes to help him heal. First, though, I need this job. I wasn’t lying when I told Eli that if I don’t get this job, we’re going to end up homeless.
I just hope Mr. Reynolds turns out to be a good man.
Chapter Two
Reynolds
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come over and help decide if she’s good enough?”
I can’t help but smile at the frustration in my best friend’s voice.
“You just want to come over and play with your niece,” I tease.
“So what? Maybe I do. Knox said he would bring over some chocolate chips he swiped from King’s snack cabinet.”
“Now, that’s tempting,” I sigh. “Every time I try and get something from his cabinet, he throws something at me or threatens to shoot my hand.”
“It’s in the eyes,” Knox chimes in the background. “You have to tap into his soft side and hit him with the dough eyes. It works every single time.”
“I’ll take your word for it, Knoxy,” I say with a chuckle. “I have to go to the courthouse this afternoon to finalize some paperwork. Would you guys care to come over and watch Jessica? Even if I do hire this woman, she won’t start until tomorrow.”
“Of course. I’ll bring the chocolate,” Knox says excitedly.
“Thanks, Knoxy. I can always count on you to appease my sweet tooth.”
“We’ll be there around one,” Taylor says. “Call me if you need us before then.”
“Will do. Thanks, brother.”
“Always.”
Leaning against the wall, I pull out the letter left with the baby and read it for the hundredth time.
Dear Jacob Reynolds,
You probably don’t remember me, and honestly, I’m not someone worth remembering. Regardless, my name is Jeanna Cornwell. Roughly ten months ago, we met at a bar and shared a night together. About two months later, I found out I was pregnant. I know what you’re thinking: you wore protection, and there’s a possibility that it’s not yours.
But here’s the situation. You did wear protection…the first time. We had sex twice that night, and I only found one condom in the trashcan.
At the time, I was a wreck. My husband had died just a week earlier. I had never been with anyone else but him—until you. I needed to feel something, anything, that night. I was lost, lonely, and terrified. You helped me feel alive again, even if just for a moment, and for that, I’m grateful.