The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(5)



Her face crumpled. “Yes.”

“How long ago?”

She shook her head helplessly.

I took another deep breath. “Okay, let’s get you back in your car seat, and we’ll look for him.”

Her thin body shuddered against mine. “I can’t go in the car without Wolfie. It’s not safe.”

“It’s safe. Mommy’s a very careful driver.” I stepped toward the open back door of the car and kept my voice calm. I probably shouldn’t have told Ava that Brenda had loved wolves or that she’d bought the stuffed animal for her. I’d wanted Ava to always know she was not only loved by me but had been loved by her biological mother as well. Somewhere along the way Ava had begun to think Wolfie protected her like some kind of guardian angel.

I thought it was sweet.

Harmless.

I never imagined she’d throw him out the window.

Ava’s arms tightened around my neck. “I need Wolfie.”

I swayed gently back and forth. “We’ll find him, Ava, but you need to help me. I can’t look for him if you don’t get in the car.”

“I can’t without Wolfie.”

I hugged her to me and told myself this would someday be a story we’d look back and laugh about. Right then, though, it didn’t feel funny at all.

I pride myself on being independent, but I wished I had a partner—male, female, anyone I could hand Ava to. I had friends I could call, but I needed help right then. Wasn’t the first twenty-four hours the most important when someone went missing?

No, that was for an actual kidnapping, not for a stuffed animal. Don’t judge me; I believe there is a direct correlation between how clearly someone can think and how loudly the child in their arms is crying.

I got her back into her car seat. How will probably one day be discussed in a therapy session, but I was desperate, and she had cried through all of my initial nonwrestling-technique attempts.

I played her favorite songs and sang as I drove back to the supermarket I’d taken her to after picking her up from preschool. When she didn’t sing along, I lowered the volume and stretched my arm between the seats to offer her my hand. She clung to it while scanning the side of the road for her friend . . . so young, so brave.

We didn’t see him in the parking lot, so I called inside.

No luck.

Drove around the parking lot a few more times.

Nothing. We went through a drive-thru for a treat, but it wasn’t enough to cheer her.

On the way home, I drove slowly and pulled over several times to let cars pass. Wolfie wasn’t worth anything to anyone but us. I couldn’t imagine anyone else wanting him. So where was he?

Ava helped me carry in the food, shoulders hunched, looking like she’d just lost her best friend—because she had. Dinner was painfully quiet. She burst into tears twice during her bath. I made funny faces and voices for her other stuffed animals, but she didn’t want any of them.

Story time didn’t happen, because she refused to go to bed without Wolfie. I fielded each of her questions the best I could.

“Do you think Wolfie is scared?”

“No, wolves are brave by nature.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Of course not, Ava.”

Her bottom lip stuck out. “I didn’t tell you he went out the window, because I didn’t want you to be mad.”

“You didn’t mean to lose him.”

“I opened the window. It’s my fault. He’s gone and I did it.”

“Oh, baby. Accidents happen.”

“Do you think he’s in heaven with my first mom?” Her eyes filled with tears.

I blinked back my own. “I don’t think so. I bet he’s out there having a great time with all the new friends he’s making. When we find him, he’ll have quite a lot of stories to tell you about his adventure.”

“You’re sure we’ll find him?”

I bent down to look her in the eye and flat-out lied. “I’m sure.”

There was no convincing her to go to her bed alone, so I carried her to the rocking chair we’d spent many nights in when she was younger and rocked her to sleep. Only once she was fully out did I tuck her into her bed.

Standing at the door of Ava’s bedroom, I felt ridiculous praying about a stuffed animal, but my heart was heavy. In my experience, prayers didn’t work. They’d never brought my mother back after she’d left my dad. My father had said she’d wanted to start over without either one of us. I don’t remember my father ever being happy, but he was miserable after she left.

Sometimes life just sucked.

Hoping for a happy ending only led to disappointment.

But that wasn’t what I wanted Ava to believe. For her, I’d move heaven and earth to make the improbable happen.

I took my laptop to the living room and wrote an email to my assistant, telling her I would be late to the office. I uploaded a photo of Wolfie from my phone to my social media accounts, along with a hundred-dollar reward and a description of where we’d lost him. Most of my “friends” were clients, but I knew some of them had children and many lived in the area.

The more eyes looking, the better the chance we would have of finding him.

I called the store again.

Still nothing.

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