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“Please, it may seem trivial, but anythin’ can help.”
“Help what?” she asks, confused.
“Help me find…her,” I reply softly.
Aoife has no idea what I’m talking about, but I’m at my wit’s end. I don’t know where to look. Cami could be anywhere. I need a fucking miracle.
“Who is she?” she questions, watching me closely.
“She is my everythin’,” I reply, lowering my guard. “And without her, I am so fucking lost.”
Aoife frowns and I know I’ve hurt her with the truth. But there is no one else for me. I will never love anyone as much as I love Babydoll. And I will never stop looking for her.
“She’s a lucky woman then,” Aoife says, but I sense her bitterness. “Did ya ever feel anythin’ for me?”
“Aoife,” I start, not wishing to wound her. “I—”
But she cuts me off as she jumps from the bed. “I have to pick up Shay.”
I’m sorry to hurt her feelings, but what I had with her doesn’t even come close to what I have with Babydoll. I used Aoife to help numb the pain I felt at missing Babydoll. I’m ashamed of my actions, but it’s the truth.
“All right. Thank you for tendin’ to my wounds—again.”
“Old habits die hard,” she replies with a strained smile. “When yer feelin’ better, give me a call.”
I nod because I plan on it. If Shay is my son, then he’s in danger.
Aoife appears to want to say something but changes her mind at the last minute. “I’ll see ya soon. And call on a doctor if ya can. Yer face—”
But I wave her off. I don’t need her to tell me the cut is as bad as it feels. “Goodbye, Aoife. It was good seein’ ya.”
She smiles, and I can see it—hope. She hopes that when I meet Shay, my feelings for her will somehow change. But that will never happen.
“I’m happy yer out. Ye never belonged in there.”
I remember her telling me that I was a good man, that I was different from the rest of my fellow inmates. I didn’t believe her. I still don’t.
When I’m alone, I exhale loudly, unbelieving how my life can change so drastically in the blink of an eye. I need to get to the bottom of this and find out if he is really my son. But before I do, I need to make sure I don’t look like the monster that I am.
Reaching for my mobile off the bedside table, I dial Dr. Shannon, hoping he can help put me back together again.
Ihear the lock click over, but I don’t turn around.
My mind, body, and soul are spent. I’ve tried to fight. I’ve begged, but I’m no closer to escaping this nightmare. I don’t know how many days, weeks have passed. All I know is that I’m losing hope.
Where is Punky? Could it be that he’s really…dead?
I hold back my tears as my captor rushes into the room because she is usually a lot more composed. Her panic has me turning over my shoulder to look at her. She doesn’t ask but simply opens my mouth and shoves a sock into it.
Before I can spit it out, she ties the belt of a velvet dressing gown around my face, securing the sock into my mouth.
A muffled “No!” leaves me, but she’s done a good job at gagging me.
This is new. I wonder why she wants me silenced.
Pure hatred is exchanged between us as I glare at her. I don’t know what I did for her to hate me so much, but she will pay. They all will.
She’s dressed quite nicely in a fitted green dress. Her hair and makeup are done too. I wonder what the occasion is. I would say she’s stunning, if not for the fact she’s holding me against my will.
