Cole yawns, then reaches up and pulls on his sister’s hair.
She yelps, then shoves at him.
Jesus Christ. Snickering, I untangle Cole’s little hand from her hair and lift Cole in my arms so that I can sit with them. Mary instantly climbs on me, too, and I wrap my other arm around her, so unbelievably fucking glad to have them both safe and sound with me.
“Where’s Tati?” Mary asks, and I kiss the top of her curly blond head.
“Kitchen. Making us some dinner.”
“Mac-un-chee,” Cole states.
“Mac and cheese?”
He nods emphatically.
“Well, I’m sure she knows what you like.” And isn’t that thought a damn warm fuzzy, that I love a girl who also loves my kids?
“I’m hungry,” Mary says in a whiny voice, but it’s not annoying like it used to be.
Or maybe I’m not as pissed with every little fucking thing as I used to be.
“Why don’t we go see what she’s making?” I suggest and groan as I get to my feet with both kids in my arms. “You guys are getting big.”
“I’m little like a butterfly,” Mary says and grins at me.
The brat. “Really? Like a butterfly?”
“I am a rocket,” Cole says, not to be left out.
“Okay, buddy.” I shake my head, laughing, as we enter the kitchen.
And freeze.
Because the door is open, and there’s no sign of Octavia.
“Tay?”
It doesn’t mean anything, I tell myself even as my breathing stops. I walk to the door, glance out.
Nobody is there.
Maybe she stepped out to… take out the trash or whatever. Talk to John.
But John wouldn’t come to the back door. He wouldn’t take Octavia out of the house without letting me know.
She wouldn’t have gone out without telling me.
“Daddy?” Mary whimpers.
“It’s okay,” I whisper and I run with the kids to the front door, open it. The police car is sitting outside, a cop inside, reading something on his phone.
Fuck.
I walk out to the porch and down the steps in a daze. I stumble down the path, and the cop sees me and climbs out of the car.
“Mr. Hansen?” he says, sounding uncertain. “Is everything all right?”
“Where is Octavia?” I ask him, hoping against all hope that he knows, that this isn’t as fucking bad as it looks. “Where is she?”