“There’s more?”
“Much more.” Frank extends his arm, and another bolt of thunder crashes around us, but I can’t get Jax out of my head. I’m pissed as shit he sold us out, but I don’t wanna see him dead.
Christmas decorations shine brilliantly—too bright, blurring my vision like looking through a snow globe. All glittery then slowly focusing on the foyer of my house with Cheryl. Finally, I can relax in a safe place.
“See.” I wave my arms around the room. “All that hard work paid off. Beautiful house, wife and child.”
“But will it remain this way?” Frank asks.
Before I can snap back at Frank’s comment, I see Cheryl and Portia decorating the tree in the family room. The one I complained was too big.
“I miss Daddy. I wish he could help us decorate the tree too.”
“Daddy’s at work,” Cheryl says the words like a curse.
“He’s always at work. I wish he was around more, especially now for our first Christmas together.”
“I’m here.” Nick yells into the void. “I’m here.”
Frank shakes his head. “How many times do you have to be told? They can’t hear you.”
“I hope he makes my holiday concert.”
“Yes, he promised he’d be there,” Cheryl assures her.
“Where you there?” Frank asks.
“I wanted to be there, I really did. It’s just that I got caught up at?—”
“Work?”
“Shit, it was the meeting with that fucker Pierce.”
“You let that user interfere with your family time,” Frank states the sad fact.
“I didn’t know he was selling us out. I thought he would help us expand the business, and we’d make more money. I thought it was important.”
“More important than your own daughter?”
Okay, so I fucked up and missed the concert. Cheryl was pissed, but Portia told me she understood. She was fine with it.”
“That’s what she told you, but . . .”
“When I miss something, she always tells me it’s all right.”
“Are you sure about that?” Frank asks.
Another crack of thunder and I’m in Portia’s room.
“No, baby, don’t cry.” Cheryl is sitting on the edge of Portia’s bed, rubbing her back. “Don’t cry.”
“Who the fuck made my little girl cry?”
“You.”
I gasp for air like I got punched in the gut.
“But he said this time would be different. He said this time he’d come.”
