It also soothes my conscience about having him killed. No person who can hurt another human being like this should be allowed to live.
I tell myself it’s the only way I could protect Dash and any future woman he might’ve gotten fixated on.
At least we didn’t have contact with him. If he’s reported missing, the authorities and his family won’t come sniffing around us.
Just like I never thought it could be him.
Dash begins to stir, and we all instantly tense up.
I rise to my feet and, leaning over her, I wait for her eyes to open. My heart begins to beat faster as her lashes flutter, and the instant her green irises focus on me, I say, “You’re safe, Dash. You’re not in the cabin anymore. We found you. You’re in your bedroom at your parents' house.”
Her lips part, and a strangled sound escapes.
I force a smile to my lips. “You’re at home. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
The last sentence seems to get through to her because she begins to nod.
Uncle Jax and Aunt Leigh move closer, and when Uncle Jax takes hold of her hand, Dash convulses, but when he begins to pull back, she whispers, “Don’t let go, Daddy. Don’t let go of me.”
God.
I brush my hand over her hair, my eyes burning with emotion. “How do you feel? Do you need something for pain?”
Her eyes go to her Mom, instead of me. “Eight.”
Aunt Leigh nods, and then she prepares an injection, which she inserts directly into the IV. “You’ll feel better in a second, baby.”
Dash nods as her eyes drift shut. “Don’t let go, Daddy.”
It feels as if my heart is being torn out of my chest as I straighten up and move back.
Miss Sebastian places her hand on my back, and it has me shaking my head. Turning around, I leave the room so Dash will feel safe with her parents.
Does she blame me for what happened? For not keeping her safe?
I keep walking until I’m out of the house. Stopping under a tree, I lift my hands to cover my mouth as it sinks in.
Seeing me is upsetting to Dash.
The thought is hard to accept because I’ve always been the one she came to for comfort. I’ve always been her best friend, her person, her everything.
And right now, I’m nothing.
Miss Sebastian comes to stand next to me, and surprisingly she doesn’t say anything. After a moment, she wraps her arm around my lower back.
Needing the comfort, I turn my body toward hers, and wrapping my arms around her, I hold her tightly.
DASH
I’m safe.
I’m free.
God, I’m safe.
It’s all I can think of as I cling to Dad’s hand. Every time he moves, panic floods me, and it has me begging, “Don’t let go, Daddy.”
“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” Dad scoots closer until he’s leaning half over me. With his other hand, he brushes over my hair, and it makes me feel safe.
The kind of safety I last felt as a five-year-old when I used to curl up on his lap and know the world can’t hurt me as long as he was there.
I’m no longer in the cabin.
The thought shudders through me like an earthquake, kicking up intense emotions that leaves me breathless and my heart racing.
“Sweetheart?” Dad asks, concern etched into his face.
“Don’t let go. Just don’t let go.” The words rush from me as my voice breaks. My fingers clamp around my father’s.
“I won’t,” he assures me. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
I nod as my breathing begins to slow down again.
Mom comes into the room carrying a bowl and spoon. It smells like soup.
Chills spread over my body.
‘Tell me you’re sorry for what you’ve done and that you love me, and I’ll consider letting you eat.’
Instantly the words fall over my lips, my voice quivering. “I’m sorry. I love you.”
Mom gives me a warm smile as she comes to sit on the side of the bed. “I love you too, baby. Let’s get some food in you. Okay?”
I nod fast, and as she brings a spoonful to my lips, my mouth opens on a sob. When the rich liquid spills over my tongue, my eyes drift shut.
“Another bite,” Mom croons.
I open my eyes and swallow every bite as fast as I can.
Movement catches my eye, and then I choke. Agonizing coughs tear through me while my eyes remain glued to Christopher, where he’s standing in the doorway.
‘Do you really think you’d be able to get Christopher to marry you? He’d get tired of your fat ass always displaying every inch of skin. Men don’t share what belongs to them.’
Mom helps me sit a little more up while my body jerks as if the belt is lashing at my skin. Pin prickles spread over me, making every inch of me come alive with pain.