“The same as before, that hasn’t changed.”
“And one is still horrible. Still your father’s masterpiece.” Her grip tightened again as she rushed out her claims, tripping over the words.
“No. Woody is the only one who pines for my father, my mother, my old life. Even though he knows it was all bad. The doctors said, he’s a part of me that’s clutching onto the childhood and love that I never had. He seeks approval, acceptance. I don’t need any of that. Well, I never thought I did. Clearly, it’s bullshit. But when I’m medicated, I don’t feel anything but disdain for my father. I miss Nessie. I missed you. That’s why I came for you.”
“But you didn’t. You sent him. . . yet you say you can’t control how it works.”
“I stopped my pills, and my anxiety him more freedom.”
“How did he know to come for me?” I was just about to answer when she did it for me. . . “A note?”
“A note. I asked Hell to hunt you down, to find you. To bring you here. I knew you were scared of him, but I thought, if you were still alive, you’d be scared wherever you were. As I said, it’s better the devil you know.”
“How did he find me?”
“Connections through acquaintances of my father.”
“Why did he agree?”
“He cares for me. He comes out during periods of intense stress. He protects me. He’s stronger than I am. When I stopped my medication, I threw myself into looking for you, but the worry ofwhere you were, what was happening to you, if you were alive. . . it was too much. For me. But not him.”
“No, because he doesn’t care. . .”
“No, that’s not true. He loves you, too. And he would have burned the world to ash to get you back.”
“Evil doesn’t love.”
“He can’t control his anger. He writes about that, too. He isn’t all bad, either.”
“He thrives on it!”
I blinked twice.
“Why didn’t he take the pills when he got me back? Like straight away!”
“He won’t take them. He likes to be on top.” I twisted the top from a bottle of water and took the smallest sip, followed by another dozen all the same. “Halfway through the day, I woke up. A cold shower was raining down on me. A bruise on my dick almost sent me back under, but I forced myself to stay present because I knew you were here.”
“How did I get in the cage?”
“I have no idea, or where it came from. He hurt you, put you in there, and went back to shower, from what I gather. But it was me that came out. I came to see you and you were out of it. There were drugs on the bed, and I worried he’d given you too much. I could see what he’d done to your hair. It stressed me. So, I dressed quickly, took too many pills, and called my friend.”
“Friend?”
“I met him in prison. He was recruited as a guard a few months before I got out.”
“A prison guard who agrees with kidnapping?”
“He was a cop before.” I lifted one eyebrow and stared at Jolie as I awaited her shocked reaction. I continued when her blank expression didn’t give anything back to me. “He’s not always by the book but his heart is in the right place. He’s seen trafficking; he agreed, better the devil you know.”
I handed a bottle of water to Jolie—a peace offering, and she accepted with minor trust, thatsome twisted part of me, would no doubt destroy in the next day or so, when Hell wrangled his way back to the top.
“That’s proof that I’m not bad.” I stopped talking, knowing I’d spoken inaccurately. “I’m not all bad. If I was, he wouldn’t have allowed me near you. If he had no trust in me, I’d be back in the institute.”
I knew that was true.
And I knew I was both a sinner and a gentleman. A devil and a saint, and a child trapped between them both.
“Institute?”
