Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
If I showed up there, making allegations, how was I to know that someone wouldn’t send the information back to Warren?
No.
The police weren’t an option.
The women’s shelter would be accustomed to sticky situations like mine. But I didn’t believe Warren was above barging in and shooting people just to get to us. Even if he didn’t, what chance did I have if this went to court?
I had no proof of abuse.
Nothing in writing.
No evidence.
I also didn’t presently have a job, an apartment, any money to my name, save for maybe what was left in my bank account. I had no family to go to.
I had nothing.
And Warren had… everything.
What if they took my baby from me and gave him to Warren?
No.
Nope.
I couldn’t even attempt legal channels.
What then?
Where could I go with nothing to my name? With no way to start over?
Desperation started to claw at my chest as Judah got heavier and heavier in my arms. But I couldn’t put him down. He didn’t have shoes on.
I had to just keep pressing on, keep moving, get off the streets.
Because once Warren knew we were gone, he would move heaven and Earth to get us back. There’d be a full-on manhunt.
I walked out of the neighborhood and straight onto the main area of town.
Then, like a small beacon of light to my ship lost at sea, I saw it.
The library.
Somewhere free.
Somewhere to set my baby down, to occupy him with books and puzzles as I tried to figure out what my next move would be.
They likely wouldn’t look twice at Judah’s sock-clad feet. Not all babies wear shoes all the time. But mine? Mine might be a problem.
I just tried to rush through the doors and into the children’s section, setting Judah at the puzzle table, and kneeling on the floor next to him, and sitting on my feet, hiding them.
I sucked in my first deep breath as I watched Judah try to shove a whale into a little betta fish hole in the puzzle, doing so with the certainty that he was right, stabbing and stabbing.
Normally, I would have talked him through it, tried to guide him to find the right answer himself.
But my mind was scattered in a million places.
There were other things to worry about than Judah’s ability to figure out a puzzle.
My gaze moved around, seeing the adult section across the building, a line of computers sitting there.
If I had a card, I could use those endlessly to try to figure out my next move.
I had to get us somewhere.
I had to feed Judah.
And my mind was coming up blank.
But I had no library card. And no money to pay to use them. Even if I knew what to look for.
I was reaching to pick up a puzzle piece that flew off the table when a movement out of the windows had my heart fluttering in my chest.
A flash of a gray suit.
My mind immediately filled in the blanks.
An intolerably handsome face, amazing lashes, and warm brown eyes.
Aurelio Grassi.
It wasn’t him, of course, I noticed as I saw the cane moving next to his leg.
But suddenly, I had an idea.
I could go to him.
Aurelio Grassi.
The man with the kind eyes.
The one who’d tried to save me once.
Surely, he would do so again?
Especially after I warned him of the impending danger with Warren?
I wouldn’t ask for much. A place to rest and think for an hour or two. Something to feed Judah. Then maybe a ride out of town.
To where? I didn’t know.
But I needed to break this problem down into steps. And then tackle only one at a time.
The first step, of course, was to find Aurelio Grassi.
I could use the computers to do that.
Bringing Judah with me, I made a pass by the computers, seeing the frozen screen on the unused ones, asking for your library card number. That was all I needed. A number.
Surely, I could find one of those.
I jiggled Judah, trying to distract him from his grumbling tummy, as, finally, I saw it.
A card sitting on a table next to someone’s notebook and scattered assortment of pens.
I didn’t stop to second-guess myself.
I ripped off a piece of that notebook paper off and quickly jotted down the number before walking right up to a computer, Judah facing me so he didn’t mess with the keys, and plugged in the card information.
The screen opened.
And I had access to the internet.
It was surprisingly, almost alarmingly, easy to find someone’s—anyone’s—address online.
All you needed, really, was a name and a town.
I tried a few local towns before I remembered the docks, then looked them up.
Navesink Bank.
Aurelio Grassi, Navesink Bank.
And there it was.
An address.
I brought up another window, plugging in the address of his home and this library, finding directions.
Only about a fifteen-minute drive.
But I had no way to drive there.