Free The Day It Happened (A Miranda's Rights Mystery Book 0) by Linsey Lanier Page B

those agencies early this morning.” He spoke as if talking to a child. “Don’t worry. They assured me she’d go to a good home. A family who’ll never know her true origin. I’m not a monster, after all.” He turned to go.
    Miranda’s mind spun out of control. Tears began to run down her cheeks. “And you did this without even…asking me?”
    The corner of his lip quivered. He was angry.
    She’d seen his lip move in that way before and knew what it could mean, but suddenly she didn’t care. “How could you do that, Leon?”
    “It wasn’t your decision to make.”
    “Not my decision?” She’d given birth to the child, held her in her arms, fed her, loved her. And it wasn’t her decision?
    Leon started to turn away.
    “I want her back, Leon.”
    He stopped, slowly rotated toward her and folded her arms across his chest. He laughed as if he pitied her utter stupidity. “She’s gone, Miranda. They took her away and neither of us will ever know where she went. You’ll never find her again.”
    Never find her again ?
    Amy gone forever? Leon had taken away the only bright spot in her miserable life.
    She raised her head and glared at him. Her feet began to move across the floor to him. Of their own accord, her hands lifted and she lunged at him, her nails groping for those sickening black eyes. “Nooo,” she shrieked.
    For a single instant, his face flashed as white as the snow outside, as if he were too stunned to react. Then he caught her by the wrists, his mouth twisting with rage. “How dare you attack me?”
    It was a stupid move. Leon did the attacking in this family. He shoved her away from him with such force, she staggered back against the refrigerator. The handle caught her in the ribs. She cried out in pain.
    Before she could regain her balance, he stomped across the floor and grabbed her by the hair. He drew back his arm. “Don’t you ever do that again, you stupid bitch.”
    The palm of his big hand smacked hard against her mouth. She felt her lip open and start to bleed as she crumpled onto the floor.
    She covered her head as his arm lumbered back and forth over her, like a crazed elephant’s trunk, the blows landing on her arms, her shoulders, the back of her skull.
    “You. Filthy. Whore.” He punctuated each word with another strike. “Look what you brought into our home. Look what you’ve done to us.”
    “Leon,” she sobbed. “Stop. Please, stop.”
    After a few minutes, he did stop. He stood hovering over her like an insane beast, his chest heaving. She tried to get up, but he shoved her back down.
    “I’m not finished.” He grabbed her wrist, dragged her across the floor.
    “Leon, stop,” she cried, her shoulder burning with pain. She struggled to get to her feet as he yanked her up the stairs.
    Leon didn’t answer. He didn’t seem to even hear her. It wasn’t until they reached the bedroom that he let go of her. As she crumpled into a sobbing heap, he moved to the closet with swift, soldier-like steps. He pulled out a suitcase, began shoving her clothes into it.
    From the floor where he’d left her, Miranda lifted a shaky hand to her mouth to stop the blood oozing from her lip. “What are you doing?”
    “What I should have done the night your bastard was conceived. What I’ve wanted to do for months.” His voice shook with quiet rage.
    He jammed the suitcase shut, grabbed her by the wrist again and forced her back downstairs.
    “What are you doing?” Miranda screamed as he wrestled the front door open.
    “Purging my house.” He tossed the suitcase onto the snow in the front yard. It broke open and her clothes tumbled out. Then he gave her a hard push.
    She stumbled outside onto the cold concrete step. Her feet were bare. She was still in her bathrobe. “Leon,” she begged. “Let me back in. What will the neighbors think?”
    “They’re at work. Besides, no one cares about you. They know what you are.” He shoved her again.
    She staggered off the stoop