105
LYNNE
I looked around. “Where’s Kiwi?” I asked, suddenly alarmed.
“He’s outside talking to that man,” one of the kids told me.
“Man?” I panicked. I grabbed the handgun from the drawer and ran to the door, my heart racing. There was my son, in the arms of a stranger. I could only see the back of his head. I ran out the door, gun raised.
“Put him down or I’ll blow your head off!” I shouted.
The man only laughed. “Not the welcome I was hoping for, but I suppose it’s to be expected,” he said as he turned to face me.
“Daddy’s home, Mummy!” Kiwi laughed, hugging his father.
I couldn’t believe it. It was Connor. He looked ten years older. There were deep lines around his eyes. “Oh, dear God!” I gasped—and burst into tears.
“Bloody hell, woman—you were crying when I left and you’re st
