Innocent Hostage Read Online Free Page A

to get to Kit.

Chapter Three
    As Breck clutched his son to his chest, he wondered how things had come to this. Although Kit had his head buried in Breck’s shoulder, he was amazingly composed for a little boy who’d just been held hostage by his stepfather. No tears. Breck wasn’t sure if the boy realized how precarious his situation had been until he whispered, “Daddy, was Marty going to kill me?”
    Breck gulped and fumbled for a reply.
    “Of course not, Kit,” Ms. Rowland’s composed voice responded from beside them. “He’s angry at everyone because he lost his job, so he’s trying to get back at the world.”
    Breck gazed at her with gratitude. He doubted Kit understood her explanation, but her calmness was what the boy needed. She was one hell of a woman. “Thank you,” he mouthed over Kit’s head.
    She nodded in acknowledgment.
    “Can I go home with you now, Daddy?” Kit asked.
    Breck hated the way his son’s voice quavered over such an ordinary question. Between them, he and Tania had made Kit hesitant and fragile. And Breck knew that of the two of them, he was more to blame. If anyone should understand the value of a secure childhood, it was he. To think he had once vowed to himself that no child of his would endure what he had lived through.
    Now he must make it up to Kit. He’d take his son home and love him, even if he wasn’t an adequate parent, and even if his cramped apartment didn’t have a front lawn. Somehow he’d dig deep and give Kit the secure, loving childhood he’d never had.
    He coughed to clear his throat. “Yes, of course. We’ll be together from now on.”
    Kit’s solemn grey eyes surveyed him, and then a tiny smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. He quenched it quickly and dipped his head.
    Breck looked at Ingrid Rowland, wondering if she’d seen that ghost of a smile.
    She had. She smiled back at him, and he felt as if he’d accomplished some great feat of courage. Lord, the way a smile could light up that woman’s face. For a moment he savored the warmth, then he bent down and lifted Kit up to perch on his shoulders, the same way Baz had done. Kit had seemed to like that. He turned to thank Ms. Rowland and she was right at his elbow.
    “Kit, honey—I probably won’t see you at preschool tomorrow because you and your dad will have to talk to the police and make plans about what you’re going to do. But I’ll see you there Monday, okay?” She was telling Breck she expected to see Kit on Monday come hell or high water. And she was giving Kit the security of knowing that he’d get past today. She patted Kit’s leg. Breck marveled at how she seemed to understand instinctively what to say. Some people were made to have kids, and some weren’t.
    As Breck turned away, he thought of something. He went to dig in his pocket and realized he was still wearing his bullet-proof jacket. “Ms. Rowland?”
    Again the hundred watt smile. “Ingrid,” she said.
    “Ingrid. Here’s my card. My private number is at the bottom. If you want to call us…I mean—”
    “Thank you,” she murmured, when he ran out of steam. “And in return—” She fished around in a handbag the size of a small continent. Muttering under her breath she pulled out a couple of books, a box of crayons and a stuffed tuatara lizard. He smothered a grin. The necessary adjuncts of a preschool teacher, no doubt.
    “Aha!” She pulled out her wallet and handed him a card.
    He memorized the private phone number before putting the card in his pocket. He’d always been good with numbers and knew he wouldn’t really need the card. But it comforted him to know he wasn’t alone in caring for Kit. Holding on to Ingrid Rowland’s card was like holding on to a talisman.
    ****
    Two hours later he’d bought a bunk bed and arranged to have it delivered. A quick dash into a couple of department stores netted some clothes for Kit along with a few toys and puzzles. Kit trotted at Breck’s side, holding on