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“Only if you deserve it.”
He shifts his feet awkwardly. “I feel like we should hug or something, make this a special Blossom moment...but I know you hate that shit and I'm not really in the mood for Tyrone to start teasing me about being a sissy. Especially after you—”
“You're not a sissy, Jackson. You're a good guy...one of the best I've ever known and that's a badge of honor you should wear proudly.”
I give him a smirk and walk out the door. “Besides, we need the good guys like you to balance out the bad guys like me in the world.”
He laughs, until his expression turns serious. “Speaking of bad guys. Heard anything about our favorite special agent? Penelope told me he tried attacking her at the hospital that night, but she never gave me an update after that.”
My mind flashes back to the email that was sent to me the other night and I turn back around to face him. “Yeah, Ford's locked up in the psych ward until further notice. He's currently doped up on so much shit, I doubt he even knows his own name.”
“Nice.”
“Maybe for him right now it is. But I'm pla
The corners of his lips quirk up. “I don't know, Ricardo. You really want a sissy like me there?”
I slap his back. “Of course I do. I can show you how the big boys get down.” I start walking down the hallway. “Plus I feel like I kind of owe you one now.”
“You don't owe me, Ricardo. I'd just like to be kept in the loop every once in a while.” He holds up a hand. “Not because I don't trust you'll do the right thing in the end. But because even though I'm almost positive Travine won't go after Alyssa...there's still a chance he might and my guard is up. I love her...and she's carrying...” his voice trails off but I read him loud and clear.
“I'll hire extra security on top of the extra security I already have for the complex. And as far as Travine goes, I'm go
I sense it the moment I walk in the house. It's like a sucker punch to the gut. Something's off...
Not only is it eerily quiet, I don't see any of the extra maids I hired to help out Marlene tutting about.
The 6 men I had stationed in the foyer are gone as well.
I steel myself and reach for the gun in the waistband of my sweatpants, ignoring the knot forming in both my throat and stomach.
I checked the security footage on my phone just about every 5 minutes, I would have known if something happened.
But this feeling in my chest, this spine-tingling awareness that something is wrong keeps intensifying with every step.
I walk down the hallway and past a few rooms, and other than those being empty and quiet too, nothing is amiss.
Then I take another step and I hear it, hushed yet frantic murmurs coming from the kitchen.
When I make a sharp left...I crash into a sea of people.
Most are the men I had stationed in various places, and they're all forming a circle around something.
“What the hell is going on?” I bark, until I take another step and find out what the cause of all the commotion is.
My heart stutters in my chest.
Lou-Lou's on the ground...she's a shaking, trembling mess. Shards of broken dishes and glassware surround her.
Marlene's on the ground next to her trying to—I don't know, comfort her—but Lou-Lou's holding up a fairly large piece of glass, appearing to be ready to attack anyone who gets too close.
The men I hired for security look at me, unsure of what to do, because although they're under strict orders to protect Lou-Lou at all costs, it's Lou-Lou herself who's the one threatening everyone in this case.
I have no idea what happened, but I do know something must have triggered this incident specifically. I know Lou-Lou suffers from panic attacks, I've witnessed quite a few of them in the past, but this is by far one of the worst ones I've seen.
Someone did this, someone hurt her.
I cut my gaze to Marlene. “What did you do?”
She waves her hands around and gets up from the floor. “We were making fucking blueberry pie,” she yells before I yank her up by her arm and pull her out of Lou-Lou's sight.
“Keep your voice down,” I seethe. “The last thing she needs right now is to hear you yelling. She's having a panic attack. A panic attack that was triggered by something. What did you do?”
She turns ashen. “I was keeping her occupied like you said, I swear. We were cooking...making dessert for di
“And?”
“I—uh. I really don't know. She said apple pie was her favorite and I said blueberry pie was mine, but I told her we could make both.”
She stops for a breath. “She said she didn't know how to make either, but I told her I would teach her because it was my father's favorite. And then I told her how every Sunday we would make them and that he called it our special father-daughter time together. And that's when—”
That's when her memories and flashbacks happened.
I shove her out of the way, I'll have it out with her later and tell her that any and all talks of fathers are off limits.
The security men stiffen and attempt to stop me when I lower myself to the floor, but I motion for them all to get back.
I crawl across the glass until I'm facing her. Her knees are pulled tightly to her chest and her eyes are closed. Her breathing is so erratic, I debate calling an ambulance.
She swipes the hand holding the glass into the air before crying out, “Monsters never die...your monster will never die, Lucia
My heart shatters like the glass surrounding us.
Emotion...all kinds of emotions are lodging in my throat.
Because when I look at her, I see the love of my life.
I see the grieving mother of my child that will never be born.
I see the strongest person I've ever known.
However right now? Right now, I see that scared and broken little girl.
And that little girl has the most power over my Lou-Lou.
It's like a domino effect. And that pedophile piece of shit was the foundation...the first one who destroyed her and pulled her life right out from underneath her before she ever had a chance to live or grow.
That broken little girl is part of her, stuck inside her forever, and it kills me.
But I love that broken little girl...because I love all of Lou-Lou. And those broken pieces aren't Lou-Lou's pieces...they're the pieces of the monsters that did this to her.
She swipes at me again, this time managing to knick me with the glass. I don't yell and I don't scream, I lie down next to her on the ground.
“Lou-Lou,” I say, my voice low and soft enough so only she can hear.
One eye opens and then another, she's still breathing far too erratically to say anything, but at least she's looking at me now.
I gently reach for her hand and she knicks me with the glass again, but when I repeat her name, she finally lets me take it out of her hand.
Her eyes dart around the kitchen—her gaze is frantic and frazzled, but I reach for her chin, lean my head against hers, and force her to focus on me. “Baby, look at me,” I whisper, smoothing her hair away from her damp face. “You're okay, but I need to get you up and away from all the glass. I'm not going to hurt you.”
When she closes her eyes again but doesn't protest, I pull her into a sitting position and wrap her arms around my neck.