Free The Season of Sin (Peace In The Storm Publishing Presents) by Stacy-Deanne

door.
    “You make me sick.”
    “Listen! Your mother twisted things. Mmm.” He clenched his stomach. “ She even told me she was gonna get me out of your life no matter what. She loved you too much, Dylan. Way too much.”
    “I loved you too much. I hope your little fling was worth it because you’ve lost the best thing you’ll ever have.” She opened the door. “And to think I even considered giving it another chance.”
    “Dylan.”
    “Go to hell.”
    “Don’t leave like this!”
    She slammed the door.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
     
    Tuesday Night (The following week)

    So much for Dylan getting answers from the people in Shannon’s apartment building.  They hadn’t seen or heard from her in days.  Dylan wasn’t sure if they lied to protect Shannon but she didn’t pressure them.
    She took the elevator to the first floor.  She smiled at the maintenance man standing by the front office.  She fastened her wool coat and pulled her collar up. She braced herself for the brutal chill and walked out the entrance.
    She’d parked across the lot close to the bushes. A maroon Escalade blocked the view of her dark green Subaru. She ran down the lanes.  Wind lashed at her coat and knocked her hat forward.
    “Shit.” She dropped her keys when she got to her car. Her knit gloves snagged on the pavement as she dug for them.
    “Come on. Ah.” She caught the key ring. “Got’cha.” She brushed dirt off her coat and got in the car. 
    A man jumped from behind the bushes and ran to her window. “Hey, lady!”
    She held onto the locked door.
    “I need help!” He pinched at the door handle. “My baby! Please!”
    “What?”
    “My baby!  Something’s wrong with my baby! Can you help me?”
    She parted her door but didn’t get out.
    He had bronze-colored skin and a body that could’ve been muscular or chunky but the bulky leather jacket made it hard to tell which. He towered over the car. His minuscule eyes suggested an Asian heritage. A crooked goatee outlined his purple lips. Breath smelled of cigarettes and jalapeno peppers.
    He had a gold stud in one ear and a tiny gold crucifix hung from his beaded necklace.
    She sheltered herself behind the door. “What’s wrong?”
    He rambled so fast she could only make out “baby”.
    “Calm down. I can’t understand you. What’s happening?”
    He sobbed. “My baby!” He struggled with his accent. “My little baby!  She’s in my van!  My van won’t start.” He caught his breath. “My daughter…she’s not breathing!”
    “Are you sure she’s not breathing?”
    “I live on the other side of town. I was on my way home when she started shaking real bad.” He jiggled his arms. “Then she was kicking and then she just went still.  Her eyes are up in the air!  She’s diabetic and I think she’s having a seizure!”
    “Oh my god. Uh…” Dylan twisted and turned.  “Hold on okay?”
    “My phone’s not working.” He pointed to the building.  “I went to the apartments but the security guard didn’t let me in.” He pulled at his soiled sweats. 
    “Shh. Okay, wait.” Dylan got her phone from her purse. “You can use my phone to call nine-one-one.”  
    “I already did that! Please help. There’s no time!”
    “I thought your phone wasn’t working. How did you call them?”
    “Earlier it worked.” He scratched his head.  “They said an ambulance is coming or told me I could take her to the nearest hospital. That’s all the way downtown. Please help me. She could die!”
    “It’s best to wait for the ambulance if…”
    “She won’t make it! Please just come help me. I don’t know what to do. She might already be dead. Please.”
    “Look I wanna help you but it would be best if we tried nine-one-one again. They might already be at the van.”
    “I’ve been waiting forever. Please. You’re the only person out here. I’ll give you money.” He dug in his pockets.  “How much?”
    “Put your money away.”
    “My van is not far