The silence in the room was now just unnerving as fuck.
“Do you? Mommy. She called Lainey Mommy. You should have seen how happy she was on that trip. Happy. I’ve never seen her smile like that in my life and why? Because her father, her fucking useless broken-down father couldn’t protect her mother so she had a chance to get to know her. History will not repeat itself. Not as long as I live. Do you hear me?Do you?”
I didn’t give them time to answer.
I was finished with playing this dirty, dangerous game.
The bastards responsible would have a come to Jesus experience that they’d never forget.
One they would remember as they rotted in the fires of hell.
CHAPTER 24
Sasha
Fuck.
Another twenty-four hours. What had I heard through various active kidnapping investigations on television and in general conversation with a few men I’d call buddies who were on the police force? That if the persons weren’t found within twenty-four hours, they were likely dead.
What struck the family hard was that there was no request for ransom and I took small comfort in the fact that if killing them had been the objective, they would have done so in the house in St. Lucia for me to wake up to.
That at least gave me some hope.
I’d tossed around the word for days.
Then it had been driven into the trash.
I glanced around the library in my house where I’d returned. Yes, the ache was heightened by being back in the house I had built to share family and love, but so was a sense of belonging. I pulled out my phone, finding the group of pictures I’d takenwhile on the trip. For the first time, I’d wanted to keep memories of our time together.
Now I was damn glad I had.
The house was too quiet, yet every sound I heard coming from either inside or out was exaggerated. The sound of the refrigerator humming slightly when I poured a cup of coffee. The way the vents blew cool air when the air conditioning cycled on. The wind whipping through the trees, limbs lightly tapping against the side of the house.
Fuck. I was a mess and doing nothing was akin to wallowing in pain.
I was fed up with waiting. I was tired of sulking and hating. The rage was building to a boiling point and once achieved, there would be no turning back. It was past time for me to take matters into my hands.
After taking a deep breath, I made a decision. Lainey had been right. I’d stored away every memory of my wife, keeping the legacy of Nina’s mother from her. That wasn’t right and when she returned…whenshe returned, I would take the time to show my little girl just how special her mother was.
That started with pictures.
Where the hell had I stored all the boxes? Ah, yes. In the back of the garage.
I rolled up my sleeves and headed out the kitchen door, flicking on the light inside the massive space. The dozen or so brown boxes had been placed against the back wall. Thankfully, the oversized garage was air-conditioned because of my expensive collection of cars.
As if I gave a damn about them.
I tore through them quickly, bringing in four. One held nothing but photographs, both framed and kept loose in folders. I sat down on the couch, shifting from one to another, taking the time to go down memory lane. With every photograph,I began to see a pattern of happiness, something Selena had brought when I’d been professionally at an all-time high while personally, my life had been in turmoil.
Nothing had made me happy.
After her death, I’d retreated into the same darkness that I’d fallen into before, the shadows surrounding me empty pockets that would eventually lead me to hell. When Lainey had come into my life, I hadn’t realized I was close to losing control.
Until the first smile and the flash in her eyes. She’d brought me back. A strange warmth washed over me as if Selena was looking down on me and giving her blessing. One picture in particular caught my eye. The photograph had been taken during one trip we’d taken to Bermuda, which Selena had loved.
She was happy, smiling, and the sun was shimmering all around her as if she was an angel. In the gorgeous silver frame, the picture was perfect. For some crazy reason, I had a smile on my face and even jogged up the stairs to Nina’s bedroom, stopping short just inside the doorway.
I’d placed Nina’s easel in the corner of her room with her sketchpad and the box of paints and artist’s pencils Lainey had purchased for her birthday. The setting was all too surreal.
