Page 112 of I Never Stopped Loving You

“I thought she was dead…The sirens…” His voice is shaky, and his breathing is becoming rapid. “When I heard those sirens, everything came back into focus. I looked down and saw my blood-soaked hands. I saw Deb, lying there, shielding our little girl with her body. There…was so much blood.”

His voice cracks as he pinches his eyes closed, trying to forget the nightmare he created.

“You thought you killed her, too?”

“There was just so much blood. Deb wasn’t breathing, and Willow…Fuck! Willow wasn’t moving. I could hear the sirens getting closer to me, so I fucking ran.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. I swear to God. I thought I killed them both, until about a month later when I saw the news. There was a manhunt out for me. They said I had her. They were searching for her too…I don’t know what happened. I don’t know who took my baby girl.”

*Smack*

“You don’t get to call her that. Now tell me the fucking truth. What happened to Willow!?”

“I don’t know!”

“Where. Is. She?” I seethe, and it’s then that I can see it in his face.

“I don’t know. I searched after that to try to find her. I never…I never meant to kill Deb. I…I was just so…”

“Drunk. You were a fucking drunk, James. An abusive, worthless, piece of shit human who would beat his wife and child, then go on smiling the next day as if nothing happened.”

“Yes,” he cries out, letting his head fall forward again. “Yes.”

“Who took her then?”

“I don’t know. I told you. I tried to find her, but I could barely keep a roof over my head and the cops off my back, so I gave up.”

“After how long?”

“A year. I searched for a year, but I figured they threw her in the system and she was either adopted by a new family or…”

“Or?”

“Or she was lost in the system…”

No. There’s no way she was put in the system. I would’ve found a trail, some sort of fucking paperwork leading to her.

“Fuck!”

A scream, raw and feral, rips from my chest, shattering every remaining shard of hope I had in finding her. He was my last hope. My last fucking hope. He cowers, trying to lean his body and the chair as far away from me as possible.

I let my eyes fall closed as I take a few deep breaths.

No. He’s lying. He has to be lying.

He took her…Hid her away from the world…

He took her from me.

My head slowly tilts back and forth as my shoulders roll, letting my bones crack and release the built-up tension. On the last exhale, I finally move toward the table with all the toys I’ve brought down here.

“Wha…What are you doing?” he stammers as he watches me blindly trail my fingers along the instruments.

Knives, tasers, and blowtorches. Needles, different vials of poisons, and guns. I have chisels, hammers, an axe, and even a few things I’ve had imported from overseas.

My finger grazes a leather handle, and a shiver runs down my spine. My eyes open to find my fingers wrapped around the six-inch-long handle wrapped in black leather with gold stitching. Attached are four cords of braided leather with small, silver barbs woven into the braids.