“Please, don’t go there.”
Tears filled my eyes. It was not often I cried, nor was it often I let anyone see me be vulnerable, but it was different with Chief. He was like a father to me, even though he was only ten years older.
My mind went back to a time before the kidnapping.
I walked into the filthy 500-square-foot apartment. Mold grew on the walls, and bed bugs infested the living space due to the neighbors. Dad was passed out on his chair.
I padded down the dimly lit hallway to mine and Lily’s room. Upon opening the door, I was greeted with Lily’s watery eyes as she scratched at the bed bug bites on her arms and legs. She ran to me and embraced me. She had lost weight, too much weight for a growing young girl. But what could I do? I was already working myself to death, working fifteen-hour days. I needed to do something. We couldn’t go on like this.
I ran my fingers through her hair, soothing her cries. She didn’t need to say anything. I knew what was wrong.I hated this life for her and for myself. I took in her familiar scent, which soothed me.
“Let’s get some food in that belly and run a bath.”
She looked up at me, her cheeks wet, and nodded. I made some mac and cheese from a box and made sure that Lily ate as much as she needed before I took some.
“Jessie, you need to eat too,” she complained as she brought another mouthful of noodles to her mouth.
“I’ll eat later, Peanut.”
Lily gave me a determined look and scooped a spoonful of noodles, holding it out to me. My traitorous stomach growled, making me cave and take the bite. It was the first thing I’d eaten in almost twenty-four hours. After several back-and-forth comments with Lily, I finally shared the bowl with her.
After we ate, I began to draw a bath. It was the one area I could keep clean and free of filth. I always made sure to have Epsom salt, oatmeal soaks, and essential oils in the bathroom for when Lily was sick or hurting. Her arms were covered in red, angry bite marks, signaling that this was a time that I needed to use those items.
The scent of oatmeal, chamomile, and lavender filled my nostrils, bringing my stress level down a smidge. As Lily played in the bath, I sat on the toilet next to her and took my hair out of the tight bun it had been in all day. My long blonde locks fell over my shoulders and down to my lower back. It felt good to let down my hair and just be in the moment with my favorite person on the planet.
Once Lily was out of the tub and dried off, I began brushing her long brunette hair on our shared bed. Her hair was thick and smooth in my fingers.
“Do you think we will have a happily ever after, Jessie?” she asked, breaking the silence.
Her question stabbed me right in the gut. She was old enough to know we were not in a good position.
“Absolutely, Peanut,” I said with conviction.
One week later, my world shattered when she was kidnapped.
Chief’s office came back to the forefront of my vision as I found my way out of the flashback in my mind. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Chief stood up, rounded his desk, and wrapped his arms around me.
“We will find her, I promise. And you know I don’t promise anything.”
I knew he was just trying to comfort me; I was in no place to believe what he was saying. It had been three years. And now, with all everything I knew about Anthony Ricci and his involvement with the sex trade, there was no way that I could believe that Lily hadn’t been put up for sale.
I stood up and got out of Chief’s embrace. “Cancel my classes tonight, please?”
He gave me an understanding nod before I walked out of the office.
I needed to work out some of this anger, so I decided to go for a run. Running was my go-to coping method when I got worked up. Running, or dominating a man in bed. An image flashed across my mind—a tattooed, sculpted body and a pierced cock. I pushed the thought away just as I bumped into a wall of muscle.
My breath whooshed out of my chest from the impact. I looked up, and surprised hazel eyes met mine. He steadied me with both hands on my shoulders.
“Shit, sorry,” I grumbled as I moved out of his reach. I didn’t want to meet his eyes again, knowing the evidence of my tears would be evident.
Machine clearly noticed; his eyes narrowed and his brows pinched.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone pained.
I took in his broad, inked shoulders, showcased in a cut-off T-shirt, and his toned, muscular legs in basketball shorts. He looked delicious. I cursed myself for thinking so. This man was a pain in my ass. There was no way I could find him attractive.
“I’m fine, just going for a run,” I said in a clipped tone.
