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I stare at the knife in my hands, knowing how I fucked up my life. Knowing it all started with them.
Standing, I brush the dirt off my pants and inhale the crisp air with a new purpose in mind.
I’m going to destroy the root of the evil, the very cause of my misery. The cause of hers too.
They tried to sell my girl, they took my daughter, now it’s my turn to destroy them. Fuck waiting for the O’Connells to seek vengeance.
It’s mine to take, after all, and I’m going to make it fucking hurt.
Chapter
Nineteen
JACE
Iwent too far. I bury my head in my hands, scrubbing at the back of my tattooed neck to try and ease the budding tension growing with each minute she remains in the bedroom.
“Dad, why are you so sad?” My frown snaps toward Harper, and I gift her a smile I don’t feel. She sits on the floor beside Mia, who is on her playmat attempting to suck her blankie into her mouth, and my lip quirks up at her lazy attempt. The poor girl is exhausted and probably wants to fall asleep in her momma’s arms. I glance toward the corridor that leads toward the bedroom again, and when there’s no movement like I hoped for, I pick the beer bottle up off the coffee table and take a swig.
It’s not lost on me that even holding a beer bottle now has become something to remind me of her. Another reason to crave her and her pleasure.
“If you made Mommy sad, take her food. That always makes me happy.”
This grabs my attention. “Who made you sad?” My eyes scan over my daughter. If someone hurt her during her kidnapping, I swear to fuck I’ll make their death even more prolonged than I anticipated. Every muscle and vein in my body waits for her response. The O’Connells reassured me she was just fucking sleeping while with the Lancasters, but if there’s more to it than that, if they’re covering shit up, I’ll make them pay too.
My eyes roam over her, looking for something out of place. She’s as cute as a fucking button, a mini version of Thalia. Her blonde hair reaches her butt, and she sits with her legs crossed and her favorite doll in her lap, who just so happens to have long blonde hair too. She fixes hairclips in the dolls’ hair while assessing me as much as I am her.
With a huff, she finally relents, and I suck in a breath as I wait. “Cole, he dropped your toothbrush in the toilet.”
I stare at her, then blink.
“I know. I told him he made me sad.”
“He made you sad,” I repeat, a little dumbfounded. Not quite the admittance I was expecting.
My tense body relaxes, and I sag back into the couch.
“Epic sad. He put toothpaste on your brush.”
I swear I could choke on the laugh of relief bubbling inside me, but her face has me attempting to remain serious and catching my lip between my teeth to stop the humor erupting from me.
Jesus, I’m fucked up. One minute, I’m about to destroy the world, the next, I’m laughing like an idiot.
I take a drink from the bottle of beer.
“He knew it made me sad, so he gave me a cookie.”
“A cookie, huh?” Great, my own brother buys our daughter’s trust with a cookie. “Did he tell you not to tell me?” I lift a playful eyebrow.
“Oh, no. But he told me not to tell you that he scratched Lucas’s red car.”
My eyes widen. “He did, huh? And Lucas doesn’t know?” I take a gulp of beer.
“Nope. He said he’d make him choke on his own balls for doing it. So we took it to the garage to be fixed before he found out.” I spit the beer out, covering my lap in it, but she continues on, “He gave me a double chocolate chip cookie for that one.” She grins back at me, and this time, I can’t help but mirror her smile.
I only wish all I needed was a cookie to fix this shit between us.
All of us.
