“Can’t you make her shut up,” his accented voice vibrates the thin, dilapidated walls.
“I’m trying, Niko,” Peyton tells him as Lyra continues to wail.
“Take her back to the girl for now,” a voice I don’t recognize tells them.
“But she’s my baby.”
“One that doesn’t want you,” Niko says with condescension.
A second later, I hear footsteps and the sounds of Lyra’s cries getting louder.The door flies open. Niko stands on the other side with Peyton behind him.
On instincts I don’t understand, I race to them, needing to get to Lyra.I know I won’t succeed. Not with the six-and-a-half-foot man blocking me, but I have to try.
Just as I knew he would, he grips my arm painfully, shoving me back into the corner.I watch as he takes my crying girl from Peyton’s arms. He’s not gentle as he carries her across the room to me, shoving her in my lap.
Lyra is quick to cling to me. She buries her face in my neck with muttering of wanting her daddy.
I want your daddy, too, pretty girl.
“Make her stop crying,” he demands like it’s a switch I can cut off.
“I’m not sure what you’re expecting. She’s tired, hungry,thirsty, and wants her father.”Isoftly stroke her hairwhile she cries. Her little blond curls are nearly soaking wet with sweat.
“I’m her mother,” Peyton yells.
“You’re an incubator. A mother doesn’t leave before the ink on the birth certificate is dry.”
She starts for me like she’s going to attack. I duck to cover Lyra’s body with my own.
“Enough,” Niko bellows. “You wanted her. Now go find her some food.” He shoves her out the door then turns back to me. “Shut her up, or I will.”
I swallow hard against the threat. She’s just a little girl, but I don’t see that meaning much to him.
I rock Lyra back and forth as I singIn My Armsjust above a whisper.Emotion fillsme with a crack in my chest as I realize I feel every word of this song in my heart for this little girl.Tears fall down my cheeks as her sobs become soft whimpers.
I clutch her to me with a vow of getting her back to Jake. Togive this little girl her daddy and the man who holds my heart in a way I never thought possible,his world. I know she’s his world. His everything. Because somewhere along the way, she became mine.
Hours pass,and I don’t release my hold on Lyra. No matter how much my arms burn and scream for release, I don’t let her go.
Finally, Peyton walks in with a plate of sandwiches. I look at theslice of bologna between two slices of bread with a scoff. “This is what you brought for atoddler to eat. A little girl you keep screaming is yourdaughter.”
“It’s just a sandwich,” she rolls her eyes. “Sheshould be made to eat what she’s offered.”
“You can’t be serious,” I scoff. “She’s three. She eats PB&J, not bologna.”
“Fine,” Peyton huffs like I’m being ridiculous. “I’ll go find some.”
“Do that,” I nod towards the door. “And bring her some water before she’s dehydrated.”
She leaves the room, returning minutes later with sandwiches and water. Lyra doesn’t eat or drink as much as I would like her to. Her normally bright eyes are full of fear and sadness that I want to take so badly.
When she finishes eating, she curls back into my lap. She doesn’t fall asleep right away. She clings to me with her little fingers in her mouth, her hand tangled in my hair. She stays quiet, though, except for a shuddered breath here and there.
“I want Daddy,” she sniffles. “Ands Nane andsAngel ands Madsux and Wywy.”
“I know, pretty girl,” I whisper to her. “I want them too. I’ll get you back to your daddy soon. I promise.”I try tostop the break in my voice, but it comes anyway.
Lyra looks up at mejust as a tear falls from my lashes.“You is sad?”
