✔Cupcakes to Kill For

28. Pitstop🧁

The car reeked of cheap perfume and mothballs. Little Wyatt sat in the backseat without a carseat or seat belt securing him in. Only a muscular man clad in black sweatpants and a hoodie kept him from sliding around when the driver made reckless sharp turns.

"I wanna go home," Wyatt whimpered, struggling to glimpse out the window.

A gloved hand reoriented his head, forcing him to gaze ahead of them at the driver and passenger. He didn't like letting the boy peer out the window. Someone might recognize him, and that was the last thing they needed.

"Where's Daddy? I wanna see Daddy."

"He's gone," the man beside him snapped. "Didn't want you anymore cuz you whine too fucking much."

Tears gathered in Wyatt's eyes. "Not true! Daddy would never leave me!"

"Jesus Christ." He tugged his hood down, revealing a neon green mohawk. A snake tattoo wrapped around the right side of his shaved head. "Can we just throw him out here on the highway? I doubt he'd survive the impact."

Wyatt froze upon hearing the man's words. More tears gathered as he bit down on his trembling lip, trying to hold back his sobs.

"Bruh, they'd arrest our asses for sure if we did that. You wanna go to jail for killing a baby? You know what they do to people like that there?" The driver asked, sparing a quick glance back at them.

"If he keeps bugging me, I'm pushing him out the door." Jon glared at Wyatt. "You hear that, you little shit?"

"Jeez, just ignore him. He'll be out of our lives soon enough. Can't imagine the money we'll make off him." The driver chortled. A snake tattoo circled around his fat neck, where a gold chain dangled beneath his sweatshirt.

"Serves that bitch Veronica right. Can't wait to see the look on her face when they break the news to her." Jon smirked, reclining back in his seat.

The silent woman in the passenger seat finally spoke up, "Yeah, that family's gonna pay us a fortune to get him back."

"Oh, we ain't fucking with them no more, Sierra. Ain't like they got much money to spare anyway," the driver replied.

"Huh? Then where are we getting the money from?" Sierra asked. "I thought we'd do another ransom."

"I know a guy who knows a guy that's into this kinda business. People are willing to pay big bucks for twerps like him."

She frowned, brows knitting in confusion. "Like, to adopt illegally? Won't someone recognize Wyatt when they've got him?"

"I mean, if that helps you sleep better at night, then sure." The driver shrugged.

"Wait, you don't mean..." She gazed back at the trembling little boy in the backseat, guilt clouding in her eyes. "He's only two years old. How could someone..?"

"Lots of sickos in this world. You get used to it."

"I dunno about this." She bit her nails until they almost reached the nub. "I just thought we'd make the family pay another ransom. We can let them have the stupid kid. Not like Veronica can be a mom to him anyway."

"When that little shit turns eighteen, he can see her in there all he wants. She'll have him replace her and end us," the driver explained. "This shows her that she has nobody. Same for that fucking baker and his nosy mom we got rid of."

"That's stretching it. He's literally a toddler. Not someone about to rise up in ranks and kick us out."

"Better safe than sorry," Jon intervened. "Plus, we get a bigger payout this way."