room

to cover Calder, Dylan took painstaking efforts to tuck his little boy securely within the fabric's warmth, arranging unruly locks of hair across the boy's pale brow. In a low voice, he addressed the still child, “Constance is waiting. You have to be okay so y'all can have a proper goodbye. She told Chris you proposed. He didn't have a conniption, so I think in a few years you’ll be gettin’ hitched.” After placing a tender kiss on Calder's forehead Dylan picked up the leather shaving case and rose to his feet.
He walked up the staircase, the glass paneling beneath the metal handrail allowing him to see Calder for a few seconds more before he stepped onto the landing, heading in the direction of Justin's bedroom. Pushing open the door that stood ajar, he strode into the dove white room, with its white and pale blue furnishings, to see Liz sitting on the bed while Justin was forced to sit on the white floor beside her, silver duct tape binding his hands and covering his mouth.
One of Liz's hands idly stroked Justin's hair while the other held a gun against the thigh of her white leggings. “Have you done away with that bitch's mouthy brat?”
Dylan wouldn't react to her abuses. Instead, he'd move the scenario along with the full intention of getting his children away from her without their suffering further injury. In a deep, steady voice, he told her, “The plane and limo are ready. But you have to release Justin. Do you want people saying bad things about you?”
“I'm a wonderful person,” she stated angrily, continuing to stroke Justin's hair, plucking out, by the root, each ginger strand she encountered, before pushing him roughly away to stand unsteadily on spiked blue and white heels. She wiped her runny nose on the back of her hand, “Where's my necklace?”
“I have it and I brought something else for you.” Dylan lifted the black case into her line of vision and her expression immediately