The Child by Suzanne D. Williams

Author:Suzanne D. Williams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: advanced genetics, science fiction, Christian fiction, romance, juvenile romance, futuristic, series, heroes, juvenile relationships, values & virtues, coming of age
Publisher: Suzanne D. Williams
Published: 2016-10-05T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 5

The points of Margot’s knuckles dug through his shirt into his chest, after repeated blows, spiking sharp pains across his shoulders. Stryke grabbed for her wrists, only to have her work free and start in again.

“I’m not some ... some ... baby factory,” she snapped, the jab of her fingernails adding to his discomfort. “I chose ... to ... have ... this ... baby ...” She punctuated each word with a smack.

He took hold of her, stronger than before, but she struggled, her face shading red. Wrapping his arms around her, he flattened her against his chest, and she gave a grunt, finally coming to a stop.

“I never called you that,” he said, “and you are not the first to complain. There were four others before you, including Delilah.”

She snorted. “Forget who I am and where I came from, whose baby is this?”

He shifted his hold on her and pressed her into a seat. He took one directly opposite, his desk to the right. “I don’t know, and that’s the truth. We’re going to D.C. to find out.” Seeing moisture form in her eyes, he hurried to calm her. The last thing he needed to deal with was tears.

The photo Crowne sent burned in his pocket. Taking out his phone, Stryke brought it up and turned it in her view. “Do you recognize him?”

Her eyes widened, her lashes parting further “That’s ... that’s the doctor. He’s who ... implanted me. Had a funny name.”

“Absalom Fossy.”

She nodded. “Yes. W-why? Who is he?”

For a moment, he sat there, silent.

The phone screen went dark, and Stryke set his cell back on the desktop. “It’s a very long story, but the end of it is he’s worked closely with Mom for years, all the way back to our conception. Crowne has suspicions about his involvement, and we think he and Mom had a falling out ... over the baby.” He held up one hand palm outward. “Honestly, I don’t know more than that. But I’m sure my mom would not let him get away with whatever he had planned. That’s why we’re going to D.C., to find out the truth.”

Her tears re-formed. “My baby ...” she wept, “... is not a freak.”

He got up, unsure how she’d gone there in her head, but incredibly unhappy about it. Anger flashed within, and he reacted, pummeling his fist into the wall. Margot screeched, the sound blending in with the crunch of drywall and accompanying puff of dust.

A freak. Like him.

With a roar, he lifted his chair and tossed it across the room. It smacked a framed print, which shattered and fell to the floor. He followed it with a second hurl of his fist, pounding the bookcase, the shelves splintering. “I am not a freak!”

Margot thrust to her feet. Dashing up behind him, she grabbed his elbow, holding his bent fist back, and he stalled, his chest aching with rage.

“No, please don’t. I ... I didn’t meant that like it sounded. I ...”

He whirled, yanking free.

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