Page 31 of Forced Into Your Arms
She looked down at her hands.
“I spent years doing the same thing with your mama.”
I didn’t say anything.
She didn’t talk about my mother often. Neither one of us did.
“For the longest time, I kept asking myself what I missed with her. What I could’ve done different. If I should’ve tried harder to get her off them drugs.” She let out a tired breath and shook her head. “Eventually, I had to accept that I couldn’t save somebody who didn’t want to be saved.”
I’d heard some version of that my whole life. My mother had chosen drugs. Chosen the streets. Chosen everything except me. By the time she died, I’d already stopped expecting anything different from her.
“You did what you could,” I told her.
“So did you.” I just looked at her. “You were a child, Kaiden. I don’t ever want you forgetting that.”
“I won’t.”
She rested her hand against the side of my face the same way she’d done at the cemetery. “You were my baby too. Still are, even if you think you too grown for me to say it.”
“I don’t think that.”
“Yes, you do.”
I smiled a little. “You just like arguing with me.”
“I raised you. I know exactly how hardheaded you are.”
I leaned over and kissed her forehead before standing. “Get some rest when everybody leaves.”
“You too.”
“I will.”
“Liar.”
I didn’t bother arguing because we both knew she was right.
When I stepped back into the hallway, Mace was standing near the living room talking to one of my cousins. His eyes dropped to the hospital bag in my hand for a second before coming back to my face, but he didn’t ask about it.
I didn’t think much of it. He already knew my aunt had Sam’s belongings, and after the day we’d had, I wasn’t in the mood to stand around discussing what I might or might not find. If there was something in that bag that could tell me why Sam had been at Grady, I’d deal with it when I got home.
I stayed at my aunt’s house for another hour before finally leaving. Mace said he had something to handle, so we went our separate ways. I had left one of my cars at my aunt’s house last night, so we weren’t planning on riding back together anyway.
I drove home with Sam’s belongings sitting on the passenger seat beside me.
When I got home, I went straight to my office, set the bag on my desk, and emptied everything out.
His wallet, keys, watch and phone were all there.
I went through his wallet first, checking the cards and a few receipts tucked behind them, but nothing stood out. His keys weren’t much help either. There was one I didn’t recognize, so I set it aside before reaching for his phone.
The screen came on when I pressed the button and it was locked.
“Of course.”
I tried Sam’s birthday first, then his mother’s. Neither one worked. After a few more guesses, the phone locked me out for a minute, and I leaned back in my chair, irritated as hell.
Sam wasn’t the type to use some random number he’d forget. Whatever the code was, it meant something to him. The problem was figuring out what.
