AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Thirty-Five
Phoebe
At some point, I thought I fell asleep, but it turned out I’d just stared at the television and thought the show was a dream. I kicked a bag of chips off the bed. Someone had placed them there in my stupor, most likely as an encouragement to eat.
Fuck eating.
What would the FBI find when they finally located her? It’d been almost seventy-two hours. Statistics were all over the place, and they weren’t in our favor. I knew because I obsessed over them. I closed my eyes and tried to block out the images of my father’s savagery. I knew firsthand what pain he could inflict. The entire time, there he was…that bastard laughing maniacally at me. Holding a knife to her tiny body.
“Hello, princess.”
His words from a deserted university parking lot four years ago haunted me. I’d never rid myself of them. And now, he’d finally found a way to finish me without ever touching me. He’d found my ultimate Achilles Heel. A wave of nausea started a series of dry heaves.
“Hey.” A hand landed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my corrupt thoughts. Clutching my stomach, I rubbed my eyes vigorously until they focused on the dark-haired man crouched over me. “You all right?”
“Jaxon?”
He smiled a crooked grin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in, but your door was cracked, and, well, you were making some freaky noises. You okay?”
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “Yeah. Just a little sick.”
He nodded to the demolished chip bag on the floor. “I don’t see how, Phoebe. You haven’t eaten since I’ve been here. When was the last time you’ve had a meal?”
I cast my eyes to the pillow I hugged in my lap. “I don’t know…three…four days ago, maybe.”
“Jesus.” He sat beside me, making sure to keep a respectable space between us. “Let me ask you a question. How do you expect to be strong for your daughter if you can’t stand up?”
“Iris.”
“I’m sorry?”
I finally looked him in the eyes. “Iris. Her name is Iris.”
His lips twitched in recognition. “Ah. I remember Bale singing that song at your birthday party in New York. Your idea?”
I shook my head. “His.”
“How sappy.”
Being isolated changed a person. I’d spent so much time not talking to people and staring at walls, his statement sparked anger inside me. “It’s not sappy! It’s sweet…and thoughtful. Her whole name was Julian’s idea. Her middle name is my mother’s name. That was his idea too.” I threw the pillow I held at his head as he ducked and grinned. I pulled back and studied him. “What are you smiling about?”
“Got you talking.” His goofy grin gleamed again. Finally, my emotions broke as I burst into tears. Jaxon boldly scooted closer, and draped an arm around my shoulders.
“Why?” I mumbled, turning my face into his shoulder.
“Why what?” he asked, rubbing my back.
“Why can’t you catch him? Why does my father hate me so much? Why does god not want me to have a moment of peace?” I knew there were no answers to my questions, but I had to voice them before they consumed me.
His broad chest expanded and released with a sigh under my cheek. “I don’t know, Phoebe. Men like him don’t have a conscience. He doesn’t hate you…he just hates in general. In my opinion, he blames everything bad in his life on you. You’ve become the embodiment of his failure. That’s the way a sick mind works.” I remained silent, waiting for him to continue. His throat rumbled before he spoke again, his body turning slightly rigid. “As for the rest, I couldn’t tell you. God and I don’t see eye to eye these days.”
As voices filled the hallway, Jaxon quickly released his hold on me and ruffled my dirty hair, making a comment about how my new cut suited me. Making a hasty exit, he left me alone to question our entire conversation.
***
Five hours later, I pulled back the living room curtain and winced as a flash went off. I blinked, the bright light blinding me as I staggered backward into a hard chest.
“You okay, Mrs. Bale?” I glanced back at Everson, his tree-trunk arms holding me steady.
