Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Rock,” a lilting voice calls from behind. I whip around and there she is—Lory, clutching a coffee in one hand and a straw bag in the other.
All the noise and movement around us fades into the background as I stare, barely able to believe she’s real. She’s picked up some color from the sun, and her hair’s a little lighter around her face. Her dark eyes trail over me, taking in my black cargo shorts and gray t-shirt, like she’s sizing up how I look out here, dressed like a regular guy. But I’m not the same. And when I finally tear my eyes away from her face, I notice the small bump rounding her belly under her light green dress. Her hand moves to it, almost self-conscious, like she’s afraid I’ll react badly.
“Lory,” is all I can manage.
Careful not to disturb her coffee, I wrap my arms around her petite frame, just breathe her in. The days we spent together in that dingy wing of Blackstone are a distant memory, but with one touch and one breath, I’m back there again with Lory in my arms. I gaze down into her soulful eyes that are welling with tears. Bending to kiss her sweet lips, I cradle her face in my too-big hands.
“You’re really here,” she says, touching my shoulders, my neck and my face. “You’re all really here.”
“And you,” I smile. “You’re pregnant.”
She gazes down at her belly and shrugs. “Guess I left that Blackstone Penitentiary with a little more than I bargained for.”
I straighten, surprised. I’d imagined the baby was Kinkaid’s, but if she conceived at Blackstone, it could be any of ours.
“When are you due?”
“Four weeks,” she says.
“Seriously?”
I touch her belly, marveling at the firmness of it. Beneath my palm, a little human shifts and kicks, nudging so hard I gasp. “Wow. It’s got a strong right foot.”
“Or left.” She glances past me. “We should go. They’re waiting for you.”
I shove my hand into my pocket, grasping the small paper shape. When I hand her the tiny paper rose that I made from her last letter to me, she beams and kisses my cheek.
“You’re really here,” she whispers again.
“I am.” I take her bag in one hand and her hand in the other. “No more waiting. It’s time for all of us to start living.”
25
LORY
MADE OF DREAMS
The air in Valladolid smells of spice and salt, the warm humidity clinging to my skin as I lead Rock through the narrow streets. The sun is just off its high point, brightening the cobblestone roads and pastel-colored buildings that line both sides. In shades of peach, soft yellow, and seafoam green, each house bears an air of gentle decay but also of lived-in charm. Doors are left ajar, and the sounds of families—laughter, clattering plates and pans, a stray dog barking, and children chattering—mix with the distant hum of traffic.
Rock walks beside me, his massive presence like a protective force field. His expression is serious, but the tension slowly draining from him as he takes in the new sights, smells, and sounds, knowing he’s on his way home. It must be a lot for him. He’s waited so long, and there’s been a limit to how much we could communicate. The risk of giving away anything that could risk Kinkaid’s—Connor’s—freedom just wasn’t worth it.
“You holding up okay?” I ask, glancing up at him. His tan skin gleams in the sunlight, and for a moment, I catch a glimpse of something vulnerable in his eyes before he gives a tight nod.
“Yeah. Just... I’m still getting used to being out. This place is something else, though. Never seen color like this before.” His low voice lifts with an edge of awe.
I’ve been so nervous about him seeing me and being upset about the baby. It was such a shock to discover my pregnancy not long after we crossed the border. Connor advised me to tell Hyde and Rock in person rather than by letter. He was so genuinely happy that I hadn’t considered the others might not have the same response. Connor worried that it’d be too much for them to handle when they were so far away.
Hyde was worried when I told him: worried that sex would hurt me or the baby, worried that the baby might inherit his volatility if it was his, worried that he wasn’t capable of being a good dad when all he’s experienced is neglect. Reassuring him has been a slow process.
As for Rock, he’s the most sensitive of the three, and he’s finding out the closest to the birth. Is four weeks going to be long enough for him to accept the child? Will he even want to be part of this now? Just imagining him walking away is enough to twist my insides uncomfortably. For once, I can’t blame the baby’s antics on my belly ache.