Where the Blame Lies(94)

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“You sure this is a good idea, Josie?” Rain asked, pulling into a space at the field where Mr. Hornsby had told her Reed was playing a baseball game.

The lot was full, and she could see that the game was already underway. Her heart beat swiftly, her breath shallow. She was about to lay eyes on her son for the first time in eight years. Maybe it was a bad idea, perhaps she should just wait until he was delivered to her house. But that moment was going to be awkward and emotional, she wasn’t sure how Reed was going to react to her at first, and she just wanted to see him. She ached for it. To soak him in without him knowing for just a few precious moments. That wasn’t so wrong, was it?

She’d told the officers at her house that she was going to take a nap, but then called Rain who had come to her front door and dropped something off under the guise of being neighborly, distracting the officers for a moment while Josie had snuck out and then met Rain down the road. She’d left her phone at home, knowing it had a GPS tracker on it. It was a lot of subterfuge but worth it. She’d only be gone a couple of hours at the most.

Josie craned her neck to see the kids on the field, trying to spot the one who belonged to her as Rain unbuckled Milo from his car seat, got the stroller from the trunk, and met her where she stood. “Ready?” she asked softly.

Josie nodded. She’d given Rain the general breakdown of what was going on. Rain looked worried, but hadn’t argued with her, following the GPS to the address of the field her lawyer had given her.

The entrance to the bleacher seats was to the left and a grove of trees lay to the right. Josie would avoid the crowd of parents clapping in the stands. She was sure one or both of the Davies were there, cheering on their son. Her son. That twist in her chest again. She pushed it away, bringing her hand to the place under which her heart lay, as though she could massage the unsettled feeling away.

“Oh, crap,” Rain muttered.

“What’s wrong.”

“My bag, it was right here.” She bent, looking under the stroller. She sighed, looking back at the parking lot, pressing her lips together. “I must have left it in the trunk when I was getting the stroller out. It has his snacks, my wallet, everything in it. Meet you there in a minute?” She turned the stroller, beginning to push it back over the asphalt.

Josie nodded distractedly, turning back to the field, her eyes still scanning. She stepped onto the patchy grass, moving toward the fence where she had a good view of the kids. Her heart stalled when she saw the name of the player standing at first base, his back to her, his knees bent as he prepared to catch a ball. Davies. Her heart picked up its beat, pounding heavily now as love, so intense it almost brought her to her knees, filled her soul. She gripped the fence, bringing herself closer, her eyes trained on the little brown-haired boy. The kid who had been up to bat struck out and Reed stood upright, stretching his arms as he waited for the next kid to step up to the plate. He was skinny, but tall, and the sun glinted off the caramel highlights in his hair. His father’s hair. She drank him in greedily. Everything about him seemed like a marvel. His arms. His long legs. Every hair on his head. There were a dozen other kids milling around, and they all had arms and legs and hair too, but something about looking at her son, the child she’d created within her, made such things seem impossibly wondrous.

He was there, in the world, smiling and talking, running and making jokes with other kids, because of her. She’d given him life. That child.

Someday he’d fall in love and have children of his own. The seed of love she’d cultivated for the tiny being within her so many years ago would spread and grow and flourish. Going on and on and on.

Is it enough?

Her heart twisted. She leaned so close she smelled the metallic tang of the chain-link fence. A flash of herself lying pregnant in the warehouse room caused her shoulders to tighten. But the little boy swaying from one foot to the other on the field, leaned forward with his glove ready to catch a baseball, was inextricably linked to the crime committed against her. If she wished it away, it would mean the child she watched—her baby boy—would blink out of existence. And Josie could not wish for that. She could not.

“We made a beautiful boy, didn’t we?”

Josie froze, her breath halting and then rushing out in a gust of terror. Cooper. Charles. He was right behind her, his voice in her ear, the heat of his body pressing into hers. She felt something sharp, digging into her side.

“Do you want to make babies with me, Josie?” he asked, only it was Zach’s voice. Oh God. Horror spiked within her, making her brain buzz. “They’d be beautiful too, don’t you think?”

“I sure do,” he said in Mr. Hornsby’s voice.

A soft mewling sound escaped her lips as she clenched her eyes shut in shame at the sound of the spot-on impersonation. Of course, Mr. Hornsby hadn’t called her. Her upstanding, fatherly lawyer. Of course he wouldn’t instruct her to sneak out of her house unprotected. She’d been an idiot because of her desperation. Her unquenchable need to see her child in person had stolen all her rationale. Blinded her. She’d been tricked. Seduced by the promise of her child up close and personal.

“Or d-do you w-want to make another k-kid with me, Josie? You d-did so well d-delivering him in that w-warehouse all alone. Such a warrior.” Josie’s eyes remained locked on the small body of her boy as he joined the rest of his team, jogging to the dugout.