𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞 | machine gun kelly

66

A/N:
Hi, I think a re-read of the last chapter will be best in case you forgot what's happening lmao.

***

SHE WAS CRYING, TEARS STREAMING down her face continuously since she had seen me walking into the room-or perhaps she had been crying for much longer, every since she had seen Connor, who had been trapped in her crushing hug the first scene I had seen upon walking in.

Annie Baker hadn't changed at all, though she seemed skinnier and frailer than she had been before the last time I had seen her two years ago. Her thin blonde hair was shorter now, she had gotten it chopped to a bob, and it framed her delicate bone structure, covering the sides of her face and disguising her sunken hollow cheeks. She was dressed in yoga pants, and wearing a full sleeved shirt that hug her small frame tightly, a Nike logo displayed across her chest.

Before I had known it, I too was trapped in a hug, while she murmured-or wailed-her sentiments in my ears as she held me tight, my own hands on her back as I had reciprocated the hug as much as I could, my eyes meet Colson's as he stood beside Connor in the distance. There was a resolute yet calm expression on his face, as though he was merely relieved and nothing else. Perhaps his mom reuniting with me and her grandson made things seem realer to Colson.

Fifteen minutes later, we were seated in the living room as Colson hung around for a while, watching me and Annie talk and answering some questions so that I didn't have to. It was evident that he had done the hardest part himself, telling his own mother the fake story that I had released through Valerie to the news. He had done it to preserve the frail woman's sanity, out of his care and respect for her.

But he was clueless of the fact that his mother knew more than he did-she had faced more than he did, and was stronger than he assumed her to be.

After our conversation melted into lighter grateful tones, Colson ventured off because Connor called for him from somewhere into the house he had scampered off to, asking his father to come and see something he had made.

Between us, our words were caught in a fishnet as Colson left the room, both of us going silent for a moment as we each struggled to find a sturdy bit of ground to face everything that needed to be faced.

"I was terrified, you know," Annie began then, confirming with a look over her shoulder that her son was no longer in the vicinity.

Her blue eyes met mine and they warmed into my gaze, devoid of any anger or resentment towards me.

"When Connor disappeared, I was terrified that he came back for him-that something happened to you and Trippie Redd captured my grandson for his sick schemes from right under our noses."

Her voice dampened and cracked midway, thinning out as her eyes glassed. I reached out to hold her veiny pale hand as she sat beside me on the sofa, running my thumb gently on her sharp knuckles.

"I wanted to tell Colson so badly-Davina-I almost did," She sniffed, holding back her tears, her fingers tightening around my own. "I was ready for anything, for all his anger and hatred to come back at me. I was ready to risk it all, I was ready to be disowned by him for ever hiding such a thing-I was ready for my son's anger to tear me apart if it only meant that I could do something."

She swallowed, as I let her speak, my heart constricting in my chest. Out of all of us, undoubtedly, Annie had done the hardest part.

"I wish I could've told you," I started then, when she went silent. "That it was me who had taken Connor, I wish you hadn't worried."