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“See, that proves how little you know me.” I turn my head and look at her spitefully. On the inside, I’m praying that it doesn’t come to that.
“And there’s nothing I can do or say to change your mind?” Why does she have to look so beautiful with tears rolling from her huge blue eyes, leaving a trail on her cheek? The fact I want to remember her like this proves I’m a sick son of a bitch.
I shake my head slowly, using every power inside me to stop myself from kissing her one last time.
Suddenly her expression changes. Those glassy eyes narrow and stare back at me like I’m a stranger.
“Then what you feared so much has come true. I do regret you, Caden Harrison. You have just hurt me more than anyone else ever has or ever will.” Her words cut into me like a jagged blade, tearing through my skin and piercing me right in my vitals. She shifts off my lap, climbing back into her seat and strapping herself in again. Then she stares out of the windshield with pure determination on her face.
There are no tears in her eyes now. They’ve all been swallowed up by hate, and every part of me wants to snatch her back.
I told myself before this journey that I had to get her back by any force, and if her hating me makes this easier for her, then I’ll take the punishment.
Lydia doesn’t speak to me for the rest of the journey. I can feel my cell vibrating in my pocket. And I don’t need to check it to know it’s Squealer. By now, Prez would have told the others what I’m doing, and he’s gonna be angry with me. He’d try to talk me out of this.
If Lydia wasn’t gonna change my mind, he sure as hell ain’t gonna.
I pull off the main road and onto the track that leads to her parents’ house. I confirmed the address on the phone with her dad last night. The road up to the house is rough and bumpy like you’d expect a farm lane to be. There are open fields surrounding the property, some of them with horses and others with cattle grazing. Lydia doesn't take in the scenery like a girl who’s been confined for three years. She keeps her focus straight ahead like I’m leading her to her execution.
I pull up in front of the farmhouse. It’s a big place and looks well kept. There’s a porch that looks as though it wraps right around the property, and I try to imagine Lydia sitting there reading a book and looking happy.
The door opens, and a couple steps out onto the porch keeping their distance, and allowing Lydia her space.
I had to explain some of the things she’d gone through on the phone. They had to be prepared for the fact that their daughter may not recognize them or remember anything about her childhood.
The woman offers me a tiny, grateful smile as I get out of the cage and move around to open the passenger door for her to get out.
Lydia’s looking at her parents, and I can see her forcing herself to recognize them. According to Brax, Grace is convinced she’ll remember, eventually. But until then, these people will be strangers to her.
I open the door, and she moves slowly to get out. All the anger she’s been holding since I pulled out of the layby has simmered into a fear she couldn’t hide even if she wanted to.
I can see that the scowl she’s giving me is forced. Any other time, it would get my fucking dick hard, but right now, it makes my muscles feel like they’re made of Jell-O. I flatten my palm against the roof and cage her in.
“Hate me all you want, but I ain't letting you do this by yourself. I’m gonna be here for you,” I promise.
Her eyes raise from the floor to find mine, and she gives me a subtle nod before I back away. Her tiny hand naturally takes mine, squeezing it tight as I move us closer.
Lydia’s father eyes me cautiously as we step onto his porch. I warned her I’d never be the kind of guy you'd want bringing your daughter home, not even in a situation like this one. I bet he’s judging me by my cut and the fact I look so much older than his daughter.
“Thank the Lord,” the woman cries out, unable to hold back any longer as she rushes to scoop Lydia into a hug.
Lydia doesn't respond at first, her hand is still clutching mine as the woman sobs into her shoulder. But she eventually moves her free hand to pat her mother's back.
“I don’t know how we can ever thank you.” Her father tears his eyes away from the sight of his wife and daughter reuniting to show me his appreciation.
“I never thought I’d see you again.” Her mother finally pulls away to search over Lydia’s face. I can imagine the pain the couple has suffered the past few years without her. I’ve just signed myself up for a life sentence of it.
Her mother ushers her inside, and my heart fucking bleeds when Lydia’s tiny hand slips out of mine. “Please come in and have something to drink before you leave.” Mr. Farrowman holds the door open, and the bewildered look Lydia gives me over her shoulder has me accepting his offer and following her inside.
Inside is cozy. It looks like the kind of place where she belongs.
“Can I get you some cake? I made lemon. It's your favorite,” Lydia’s mom fusses around her, sitting her on the couch, unable to stop looking at her daughter.
“That would be lovely.” Lydia smiles politely, but when her eyes find mine, there’s no trace of happiness in them.
I stay for a long, agonizing hour. Her parents have questions, naturally. Ones that I promised last night I would answer in person. Their shock turns to horror when I tell them about the auction, and I try my best to reassure them that she is in no more danger. Verretti will be dead in a few hours.
“You’re… um… people, will they be wanting a reward?” her father asks cautiously. The time’s come for me to leave. Lydia has to do the rest of this by herself, so I stand up and nod at Mrs. Farrowman.
