Chapter 19

Lincoln

She has a kid.

A kid who's fucking missing.

My gut clenches as bile rises, and I grip the back of my neck, squeezing hard to stop my hands from shaking.

Fuck!

She has a kid and never said a damn word.

I've fallen for a woman who has a kid.

I never intended to fall for her.

But I did anyway.

And … she has a damn kid. My vision goes fuzzy around the edges.

A kid that may have been stolen just like Elizabeth was. Now I understand why Sophie was so sick when her dad called, because my gut churns and bile burns its way up my esophagus at the thought of her losing James the way we lost Beth.

I push the sensation down because I can't afford to get lost in the past right now … Sophie needs my support.

She has an eight-year-old son.

My shoulders tense around my ears, and my fists clench at my sides. My heart hammers against my sternum and my blood vibrates through my veins as I come to terms with this reality.

My mind reels, playing the last few months over like a movie, but I can't find any clues that would have given me a warning that Sophie's a mom. I've purposely steered clear of single moms. I didn't want the responsibility. I never wanted to risk falling in love with a woman and her kids when something could happen to them. I never wanted the responsibility that came with loving a single mom.

And I've gone and fallen for one, anyway.

I feel completely blindsided.

Fuck!

A throat clears behind me, and I turn, looking down into the angry face of Sophie's father as he scans the tattoos on my arm with heavy disapproval. His narrowed eyes climb back to my face, and he scowls at me. "You have some explaining to do."

I'm not sure what explaining I need to do, but I'm not here to cause trouble. "Look, Mr. Chalmers. I'll tell you whatever you need to know, but we need to find James." I hold my hands up in surrender. "I'm here to help."

His posture softens slightly. "Of course. But don't think we won't be having a chat when this is all sorted out."

Another cop car pulls up, and the officer climbs out. Officer Banks takes James's clothes over to him, and they have a brief discussion.

Sophie leaps down the steps, her swollen eyes flicking from her dad to me and back to him. "Did you check the park?"

"I didn't want to leave in case James came home," he grumbles.

"All right. I'm gonna start there." She turns to me. "Thanks for bringing me home. But I need to get moving."

If she thinks I'd leave her at a time like this, she doesn't know me at all. I step closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at me. "I'm coming with you."

"You don't ha?—"

I cut her off and my voice turns to steel. "I'm coming with you. Let's not waste time arguing. Lead the way."

She spins on her heel without another word to me, calling over her shoulder. "I'll call you when we find him. Go inside and stay near your phone."

As we breach the front gate, the cop opens the back door of his cruiser to release a dog. I feel better knowing they're taking this situation as seriously as they are. The cops let the dog sniff James's clothing, then its nose immediately drops to the ground, and the German shepherd moves quickly around the front yard.

Sophie sprints down the sidewalk, and I run to keep alongside her. She told the officer he loves the park, but my gut tells me we won't find him there. We run seven or eight blocks before the park comes into view, and Sophie picks up speed. Panting hard, she lurches through the gate, screaming her son's name. I separate from her and call his name on the opposite side, but I already know he's not here. Kids stop what they're doing and watch as we frantically make our way around the area, checking in tunnels and behind bushes.

A man with a baby strapped to his chest stops me. "What's going on?"

I point across at Sophie. "We're looking for her son, James." I describe him the best I can remember from the description she gave to the police, but before I can finish, the guy's shaking his head.

"Haven't seen a kid matching that description, and we've been here since school finished."

I thank him and head over to Sophie. She swipes at the tears flooding her cheeks when she notices my approach. "I just talked to that guy over there." I point behind me. "He's been here since school got out. He hasn't seen James."

Her chest heaves with exertion, but she nods slowly, her hands rising to her hips. I wish I knew what to say to her, but I'm at a loss. "Okay." Her shoulders rise and fall as she takes in deep breaths and blows each one out. "There's a field where kids play soccer on Monday afternoons about five miles from here. I'll check there."

I know the field she's talking about. It's where we play. "That's a long way for an eight-year-old to walk. Do you really think he'd be there?"

She shrugs and drops her gaze to the grass between us. "I dunno, but I have to try. He's desperate to play soccer, and his friend practices there."

"Fair enough. Let's check it out." She surges forward, but I grab her arm to stop her. "How about we go back to your place and get my car? It'll be easier to go from place to place. Quicker, too."

She nods. "Okay."

I guide her to the gate with my hand on her lower back, and we sprint back to her place, update her dad, collect my car, and head to the soccer field.

Every muscle in my body is tense and maintaining a proper breathing pattern is a struggle, but when I glance at Sophie, I dig deep to find strength I wasn't sure I had. This is bringing back a flood of memories for me.

Memories long buried.

Memories I never wanted to experience again.

I don't know what this means for me … for us. Her having a kid changes things in a way I'm not sure I can handle, but I shove the thoughts away so I can be present. "So, James wants to play soccer?"

She turns her tear-stained face toward me. "Yeah," she murmurs with a shaky breath. "He has to wait while I save enough money to buy him a pair of cleats, but as soon as he can, he'll start playing with some of his friends on Monday afternoon if there's room on their team."

Keeping my eyes on the road, I nod. "I can always help him practice. I play in one of the senior teams down here," I offer as I pull into the parking lot. It's busier than I expected. I'd forgotten the younger teams were having a special open practice session today to encourage new members.

As soon as I pull to a stop, Sophie climbs out of my car, not waiting for me before taking off toward the field. With her hand shielding her eyes against the afternoon sun, she scans the area, and I move beside her. "Send me a photo of James so we can split up."

She glances up at me as though she'd forgotten I was with her. "Uh, sure. Thanks." She quickly sends me a photo and we separate to opposite sides of the field. There are a lot of kids down here; it'll take time to search for him.

I study the photo closely. He has Sophie's dark hair, but his eyes are gray blue and he has a galaxy of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He's a cute kid and I hope he's here somewhere playing with his friends because I can't bear the thought of him being stolen and Sophie having to experience what my family had to go through.

I wander from game to game, dropping my eyes to my phone to keep his image fresh. When I look up again, I spot a boy with dark hair who's wearing the clothes Sophie described to the officers, so I increase my speed to a jog. It's difficult to tell if it's him from this distance, but as I get closer, I'm pretty sure it is.

My heart pounds like it's about to shatter out of my ribcage with excited energy at hopefully finding Sophie's son. When I get close enough, I call out his name, and the boy turns fully in my direction. My relief is instant and overwhelming, and my knees almost buckle as my shoulders sag. He's peering at me with acute distrust, which is good. "James? James Chalmers?"

His eyes narrow and his dark brows scrunch together. "Yeah," he answers, drawing out the word while keeping his distance from me.

"My name's Lincoln. I work with your mom." His features relax. "We've been looking for you."

His head swivels around as he searches for his mom. "Damn. Where is she?"

I look up, spotting her on the opposite side of the field, and point in the direction. "Over there. C'mon, I'll take you to her."

Suspicion clouds his features again. "How mad is she?" He bites his bottom lip, much the way Sophie does when she's unsure of something.

"Bud, she's more worried than mad." I grip his shoulder and squeeze it in reassurance.

A woman steps behind him, eyeing me as she places her hand on his other shoulder, tugging him out of my hold. "Everything okay here, James?"

"Uh, yeah. My mom's looking for me. I gotta go."

Her fingers turn white as she holds him in place, looking at me with distrust. "Look, I don't know who you are, but I'm not letting James go with you. I'll call Sophie and let her know where we are."

My eyebrows shoot up. Pretty sure the woman has James without permission, yet she's being protective of him. I'm torn as to what to do. The woman seems to know Sophie, and James appears to be comfortable with her, so my gut tells me he's safe. "If you wait here, I'll get your mom."

She nods, and I take off in the direction I saw Sophie. When I reach her, I stop in front of her, panting. "Found him." I wave my arm in the direction from where I came. Her eyes widen and I grip her hand, engulfing it in mine. "C'mon."

James is exactly where I left him. Thank fuck.

Sophie disengages from me and bolts the last few yards, dropping to her knees and wrapping her arms around her son, sobbing against him. He stands frozen, his eyes blinking as he scratches his cheek. After a few moments, she pulls back and runs her hands over his body from head to toe. "You're okay. I've been so worried," she sobs.

The woman standing behind James shifts on her feet and twists her fingers together. "Didn't he tell you we were bringing him with us today?"

Sophie looks up at the woman, then drops her eyes back to James, shaking her head. "No, he didn't."