He chuckles softly, and it actually makes me smile.
“Do you remember the little brat that was in class with you and Serena when you were in high school? She used to tease you about something terrible?”
“Zoey?” I raise an eyebrow. I haven’t thought about that girl in years.
“Yes, that little bitch,” he says so easily, and I laugh again. Richard is not one to cursenormally, but he really did hate that girl. “She gave you hell since you were in the sixth grade. For years, you just sat aside and let her say whatever she wanted. You never batted an eye. It wasn’t until she picked on Serena that you did something. The moment you heard her call Serena ‘trash,’ you whooped her ass.”
“Well, yeah. She had it coming,” I declare through a humorous huff.
“But not until she roped your family into it,” he points out, and I can almost feel his grin through the phone. “You have always been the one that I didn’t have to worry about. Not that Serena couldn’t take care of herself, but you just always had the ability to sit back until the time was right. You have the strength and self-preservation of a survivor. As unfortunate as it was, you had to. Even now, as an adult, you use those skills every day. I think you’re much more capable than you realize, and I learned a longtime ago that I just had to let you handle life on your own terms. That was going to be the only way you’d continue to survive.”
I swallow harshly to try and keep any more tears from resurfacing. Richard has always treated me and Serena differently, but it never felt that way. He never acted like I was a problem, or someone he needed to keep his real daughter away from like everyone else did. Now that I think of it, I’m not sure he’severyelled at me. He didn’t try to limit what I wanted to do, and whenever I lived with them, I probably got away with more than I should’ve. Well, because it was always me chasing Ser around during her shenanigans and keeping her from getting hurt, probably. He’s always trusted me, just like I’ve always trusted him.
“Can I still tell youanything?”
“Absolutely,” he replies without hesitation.
“We’re going after someone tomorrow—someone who probably knows where Damien is. And to be honest? I’m scared.”
“Scared of him?” he asks disbelievingly, like he doesn’t really think that I am.
“Not necessarily ofhim, but of what we’ll find, or what I’ll lead everyone into. So much has gone wrong before, and I just…” I pause and take a deep breath, needing to ground myself a little more. “He escaped last time.” He hums softly, like he’s trying to pick out the best response before he speaks.
“Without going into too much detail, do you feel good about your plan?” he asks flatly. I quickly go over things again in my head, and when nothing about our idea raises alarms, I nod to myself.
“Yeah, I think I do.”
“Whydo you feel good about it?”
“It’s not something we normally do. Your comparison to the military isn’t that far off when it comes to our protocols and objectives. We almost always raid or patrol. So, this is different.”
“How so?” he asks with genuine curiosity, telling me that he’s just as serious about this conversation as I am.
“We’re being sneaky and hiding until he comes to us.”
He makes an approving groan, followed by a muffled ‘mhm.’ “So, you’re putting those street-smarts to good use?” he points out, and I don’t answer him immediately. “What it sounds like, is you’re afraid of doing it differently than Damien does.” He might as well have rung a bell in my ear. The realization crashes into me, and it feels like a punch to the chest. Tears storm my bottom lids again, and I rapidly blink them away.
“Yeah…” I force down a sob.
“Pumpkin, for a man like Damien? If he didn’t trust you enough to make decisions regarding either himself or that organization, he wouldn’t have married you. In my opinion, you’re smart enough to control anyone, much less a small group of men. If you feel good about this, then stick to it.”
“What if I don’t find him? What if it doesn’t lead anywhere?”
“Are you going to stop looking for him if it doesn’t?”
I roll my eyes.
“Of course not,” I answer angrily.
“Then that’s all that matters.”
I turn my back on the trees and look into our dimly-lit bedroom. The bed looks so large without him in it. It’s nothing but a sea begging for us to wade on top of it. Our space is where we can justbe, and now it feels as heavy as the air out here. It’s missing him. When I lay on top of it, I don’t float like I do when he’s beside me. I just sink, like some other force is trying to pull me down—like something evil is keeping me from him.
“He’s waiting for me…” I whisper.
“He always has been, Ashia. Anyone with eyes can see that. He waited his whole life for you. I promise, he’s going to hold out until you find him again. You are doing everything you can to bring him home, just as I’m sure he’s doing everything he can to make his way back to you. Both of you always fight for each other. Don’t let your fear cloud that.”
I nod confidently, even though he can’t see me.
