Safe

-17- Sleepless

Kendra Lincoln

I sat on the floor of Holt's room long past when he was sleep. Brushing my fingers through the strands of his hair.

I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his arm that had been wrapped around himself finally grew heavy and fell to rest on the bed. I watched the tension leave his features and the hitch in his breathing disappear until his lips parted slightly and the faintest snore left his body.

And then I cried silently, one hand pressed to my stomach, promising my baby that they'll only ever feel love and safety, the other hand still gently giving Holt comfort in his sleep.

I've been telling him he's safe this whole time but tonight proved that he isn't. That I've failed him.

When I finally left his bedside, my feet tingling and my butt sore from the hardwood floor, exhaustion sweeping over me from all the tears I'd shed, I went and sat in the guest room. The room that will be a nursery, if we make it that far.

I stared at the room, my mind replacing the queen size bed with a white crib, the dark dresser replaced with a white one a little changing table on top. The room filled with blues or maybe pinks. And I cried harder.

I cried for the babies I didn't get to meet and I cried for Holt as a baby. I hope he new a mother's love while she was alive. And I hope that his grandparents showed him love until they pulled him from his grandpa's care.

By the time I crawled back into bed beside Rhett, I was only going to get a few hours of sleep.

                            ————————

I take a seat on the bleachers, catching the tail end of Holt's practice. Luke blows his whistle and every single player but Holt starts dribbling their ball in a circle around their body. He's sitting on the bleachers opposite me, watching everyone else.

"Hey!" My attention shifts to seek out who shouted hey and I see Birdie closing in on me.

I stand to welcome her in a hug, smiling as I say "how are you?"

"I'm good!" She doesn't hesitate to wrap her arms around me like we're old friends. "You?"

"I'm good." I say warmly as we both take a seat, watching the practice.

She starts to tell me about the drill they're doing, why they're doing it, how it'll help them improve. As she does I watch Holt.

He's laser focused as he studies his teammates, his body still. I wonder how his pain is. Besides the night when he woke up from a nightmare screaming, every time I ask he says he's okay. He's stoic with his pain as if someone hasn't just beat him up.

I was shocked to see his X-rays at the hospital. His ribs a mangled mess. The doctor pointed out plenty of healed breaks. Of course, nothing was ever reported in his file.

"I bet Holt's bored." Birdie comments. "I had to miss some practice and a couple games my sophomore year because I sprained my ankle. There's nothing worse than watching everyone else play the game you love."

As she speaks, I stare at him from across the gym. His dark hair, that's getting long and messy. His brown eyes that seem to catch everything, calculating and wary. I wonder who he would have been if he'd just been mine from the beginning.

"Do you guys know who did it?" She asks.

I shift my gaze, studying her profile. Her skin is this beautiful light brown color, bronze even though summer tans are all faded. Her dark hair full of natural springy curls that if I'm being honest I envy. She has slender features and a strong jawline like her father's but it suits her. She's stunning but the thing that makes her truly beautiful is her heart. Her compassion.

"No." I tell her. "If Holt knows who it is he isn't saying."

There isn't any doubt in my mind that Holt knows who it is. And I suspect at some point we will run into them. I'm just hoping I catch the signs in time to be able to single out who it is.

"Drew told my dad he thinks it's Ian." Birdie offers up. "He doesn't have proof though."

The mention of Ian makes my blood boil. I never thought it would be possible to have such dislike for a child but at seventeen I'm having a hard time believing that Ian doesn't understand the ramifications of his actions. Then again, I also don't know the type of monster his dad could be. Maybe Ian's just doing his bidding for him. Maybe Ian has never seen compassion either.

That last thought sparks a whole new list of questions and concerns. What if Ian's behavior is a reflection of his home life? What if Holt and Ian aren't that different, one boy just lashes out and the other has turned inwards.

"Were you and Ian friends?" I ask Birdie.

She shrugs, waiting until the ring from Luke's whistle ends before she says "not really. I mean we hung out as a group occasionally but it didn't happen often."

"Why's that?" I pry.

I lose her attention for a minute as she watches an exercise the team is doing. I almost repeat myself but then she picks up the conversation as if there never was a break in it.

"We just never clicked, ya know? Like Ty, Ryan, Justice and I all became instant best friends. Even Holt." She glances at me. "Sometimes you can just tell someone's gonna be a good friend. And I never got that with Ian."

I do know what she's referring too. There's some friendships that are inevitable. They exist even before you realize they're forming. Like they had always been.

"I think it was Ian too." She tells me. "He plays for Paramount now and that's the next game. A little too convenient if you ask me."

I freeze at the mention of Paramount. He's already fighting so much, basketball is supposed to be fun for him. He shouldn't have to worry about Ian while he's playing.

Maybe it's okay that Holt has to sit out this game.

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Sorry for screwing with you all yesterday. Definitely bumped the publish button while I was being used as a jungle gym by my kid 🤣.