The warden and Rachel wanted to use the interviews I’d done, the personal stories of the warriors to try to recruit brides who might ask to be assigned to the Colony. I didn’t know how the Interstellar Brides program worked, exactly, but the warden had insisted that if a woman actually requested a certain planet, she would not be denied.
And the Colony needed more brides. Rachel had said that often enough, but I agreed. I saw the warriors. Met them. They needed hope and life and children running around. They needed noise and chaos and a future. They needed to remember what they’d sacrificed and fought for in the first place. And it wasn’t the bleak, shadow of existence they had now. Things were improving, but not fast enough for Rachel. She wanted everyone on the Colony happy. Now.
Except for Kiel. He wouldn’t be matched. He wouldn’t have his mate at his side. I’d denied him the happiness he deserved, the kind of relationship he couldn’t find with anyone else. I’d doomed Kiel to live an empty life by choosing to save my son. By lying to him, leaving him behind. I hadn’t even said goodbye.
“They should let single mothers into the brides program,” I whispered. “Because this sucks.”
The warden nodded, a shimmer of moisture gathering in her eyes in empathy for my pain. “I agree. But that’s an Earth rule, not a Coalition rule.”
“It’s stupid.”
“Earth’s leaders don’t feel that the choice to travel to another world can be made for a minor. They can’t go until they are old enough to make their own decision.”
I knew the rules. At one time, I’d even agreed with them. But now? Now I knew that Kiel would have been a loving and protective father. Now I realized what women like me were giving up because some fat old men in Washington didn’t think that I, as a single mother, was capable of making that kind of decision for my child.
It was bullshit, but I was literally powerless to change it. At least in the next few days. After that? Well, maybe I’d start a YouTube campaign using some of the things I’d learned on the Colony. Maybe I could get some single mothers to band together and send petitions to congress. Something. There had to be something.
“One thing at a time.” I was talking to myself, but I had to focus. Wyatt needed me first. I’d worry about the rest later.
Tears burned behind my eyes but I blinked them away with the brutal efficiency of a single mother who was used to making hard choices and hiding tears that wanted to fall. Nothing was easy. Crying about it wasn’t going to make it hurt less, it was just going to show the world the chink in my armor, a weakness to exploit. The pain caused by my dead palm, no one else would ever know about. I just knew, somewhere in the universe, another palm was just as dark, just as cold and empty.
But Kiel wasn’t the only one who wanted me. Wyatt needed me. I couldn’t afford to be weak. I was a single mother. Losing my shit was simply not an option.
The warden walked me to the front doors of the processing center and waited as the car I’d summoned using a phone app arrived to take me home.
“Thank you,” I said.
She tilted her head to the side with a slight nod. “You’re welcome. Just be sure you keep our agreement.”
“I will.” The glass doors slid open and I ran for the car pulling up to the curb. The sun was just starting to set and I glanced again at my phone. Just after eight, which meant Wyatt would going to bed soon and I wanted to see him, needed to feel his sweet little arms wrap around my neck, needed him to smother me with little boy love so the empty hole where Kiel had been wouldn’t hurt quite so much. I wanted to heal him immediately, not wait another second to see the pain be taken away.
I missed both my boys right now, and the pain in my heart threatened to break me. The pain of my dead palm? I’d live with it as a constant reminder of Kiel and what we shared.
We pulled away and I looked up at the processing center in time to see the doctor who’d help send me to the Colony watching the car pull away from a second story window. I gasped.
“Shit.”
One phone call and the Senator would know I was back. They’d be knocking on my door the moment I got home. Time for Plan B.
I needed to run. I needed to get Wyatt out of that apartment as soon as possible. My fumbling fingers struggled with pulling up my mom’s number.
She answered her phone on the first ring.
“Mom.”
“Oh my god, Lindsey! You’re back! I was so afraid you wouldn’t make it.” She burst into tears and I heard my little boy yelling and whooping in the background. Mommy’s back! Mommy’s back! Mommy’s back!
“Are you packed, like I told you to?” I whispered. While the driver wasn’t paying me any attention, I didn’t want him to know anything. “Cash and passports for all three of us?”
My mother’s voice settled and she ignored Wyatt’s chanting. “The just in case, bag?”
“Yes.” I’d asked her to be ready to leave town in a hurry, leave and never come back. Just in case. It seemed, just in case time was here.
“Yes, dear. We’re ready.”
I signed. “Good. Load the bags in the car.” I leaned back in the seat, watching the streetlights float by in a blur caused by tears I refused to let fall. “Get in the car right now. Don’t wait. They know I’m back. Get in the car and meet me where we talked about. Ditch your cell and use the burner phone I bought for you. If you need me, call me on my new number. I wrote the number in your wallet.”
The designated meeting place was a run down, flea-bag motel about twenty miles out of town on an old state highway. I had our route planned out. We’d cut across the wetlands to the gulf and ride the coast until we got to Texas. After that? Well, Mexico was an option. Maybe we’d hop a plane and head farther south. Costa Rica. Hell, Peru. I’d get ahold of Warden Egara and get her the magic wand, but first I had to make sure Wyatt was safe.