The Vines by Shelley Nolden (most motivational books .txt) 📗

Nausea surged, and she swallowed hard. “He was tied to me,” she managed to croak out, as much for her benefit as his.

“We—I—almost lost my son,” Ulrich said with a sob.

The heaving of his chest told Cora that he was crying. Only once before had she seen him do so—the day his mother and sister died.

Before now, she’d thought his cruelty had withered his tear ducts. He does love our boy, she thought and pictured him frantically searching the island for them. A sharp pang of guilt sliced through her. “I’m so sorry,” she spluttered. “I shouldn’t have—”

His chin jerked upward and he fixed her with a cold stare. “You’re sorry?” From a nearby bed frame, he picked up the dirty, crusted remains of the cord, now ripped in two. “Your recklessness almost killed my son.” He tossed the pieces onto the floor.

The noise startled Kristian, and he woke with a cry.

“It’s okay, mein kleiner Bär,” she said out of habit to soothe her “little bear.”

He wailed for her and tried to slide off Ulrich’s lap.

Ulrich repositioned him. “Mutti braucht zu schlafen. Mommy needs to sleep. Ich habe dich. I’ve got you.”

Why’s he teaching him English? She sucked in her breath at the likely answer: just as she’d feared, he would take her son, and she would remain here alone. For eternity.

“This is your own doing,” Ulrich stated as he struggled to control the flailing boy.

“You were planning to steal him from me,” she said, loudly enough for Ulrich to hear over Kristian’s escalating cries.

Ulrich managed to retrieve a chocolate bar from his black kit and broke off a block for Kristian. “You should have spoken to me about my plans before you endangered our child. Kristian’s cognitive development requires socialization. However, he also still needs a mother’s affection. I’d been intending to split his time between the city and here with you.”

She pressed the back of her head into the pillow. It had to be a lie, but what if he were speaking truthfully? Over an eighteen-year span, with only a two-year interruption while Riverside had been temporarily closed, she’d observed Ulrich’s commitment to providing Rollie and then also Greta with an idyllic childhood. He might have concluded that Kristian should remain close to his mother.

“That was my plan.” He cleared his throat, and the knot in her stomach tightened.

“But because of your folly, you’ll never see him again.”

The pronouncement slammed into her and stole her breath. If she hadn’t fled with Kristian, would Ulrich have let him live here part-time? She would never know. “Please. I’m sorry. I’ll never do anything like it again.”

“Correct. You won’t.”

Cold sweat clung to her sides, and her heart pounded in protest.

Kristian, who’d finished the treat, whined for another. His tears ran into the chocolate smeared around his mouth, and she felt an overwhelming urge to clean his face and kiss those little lips.

She swung her legs off the bed and reached for him.

“Mutti.” He dove toward her, and Ulrich yanked him back and raised his other hand to strike her.

Cora flinched but didn’t retreat.

“Please, he wants me.” Her entire body trembled with exhaustion and fear.

Writhing to free himself, Kristian clawed at the protective suit, which forced Ulrich to thrust the boy at her.

She grabbed him, and Kristian quieted instantaneously.

Buckling under the extra weight, she staggered backward and collapsed onto the bed.

Her son burrowed under the gown to find her breast, and she inhaled his scent. Ulrich must have bathed him and his diaper beneath the fresh pair of trousers felt dry. The long shadows on the floor told her it was late afternoon, but she could only guess how long she’d been unconscious.

As he suckled, his fingers flitted across her belly, and he hummed with contentment.

“He needs his mother.” She stared into the round lenses of Ulrich’s alienesque mask.

“He’s old enough for cow’s milk.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. I’m anticipating a difficult adjustment period, but that will be only temporary.”

“Ulrich, you know what it’s like to grow up without a mom,” Cora pleaded, desperate enough to broach a topic that had always been taboo. “Don’t do this to your son. Give him what you didn’t have.”

“This is very different.”

“No, it’s not. I love him. He needs his mother’s love.”

Ulrich shook his head. “Soon, he’ll come to think of Petra as his mother. And I’ll be there to make sure she fully replaces you.”

“No,” she said, weeping, and Kristian looked up at her questioningly. He raised his hand to her face, and she grabbed his wrist for a kiss to keep him from touching her tears. She didn’t want him to know this pain. But in the weeks to follow, he would. Although she was relieved to hear that Rollie—not Ulrich—would raise her son, the thought of Kristian crying out for her cut deeper than any scalpel ever had.

Kristian resumed nursing, and she caressed his chubby cheek.

Eventually, wrapped in the love of his false parents and deranged “grandfather,” he would forget her. Oblivious to her existence, he would grow up in the city she’d fantasized about experiencing with him.

Meanwhile she would remain trapped in this hell, aching for him with every beat of her heart. Now death called to her, louder than ever before. “Your next visit, kill me, please.”

“Ha. You’re far too valuable to exterminate.”

“Then I’ll kill myself.”

He laughed. “Go ahead. Then, someday, I’ll tell Kristian his birth mother didn’t love him enough to stay alive.”

She stiffened. Kristian pulled away from her breast, so she shifted him to the other side. “Give me another chance.”

“You don’t deserve one.”

Without disrupting Kristian, she sat up. “For six decades, I’ve been subjected to every form of torture, in the name of medicine, and I’ve never asked for anything.”

A sly smile stretched to his eyes. “Perhaps I will bring him back sometime.”

He was lying; she was sure of it. Ulrich would use the promise of a reunion to