“But why do you want Peony?” Is Athena part of a child trafficking ring? She steals children and sells them to people who want to adopt a baby or young child? And…and for some reason she developed a conscience with Peony and decided to return her to her father?
My brain fog grows denser, preventing me from figuring out what all this has to do with Athena disliking me. Preventing me from figuring out if I’m on the right track.
Stay focused. For. Peony’s. Sake.
The man waits for me to quickly change Peony’s diaper, then has me gather up her things, and carry her out of the motel room. She clings to me like a koala to a tree, her body trembling as much as mine.
Frustration leaks out on a long sigh. Instead of searching for paper and a pen and writing a message, I fell asleep. No one will find my nonexistent SOS tucked under the bedding.
No one will know we’ve been here.
No one will know where to find us.
57
GARRETT
Seventy-two hours.That’s how long it’s been since Simone last saw Peony and Zara.
And we still have no idea where they could be—other than they could be possibly headed to or are already in New Orleans.
I pace for the thousandth time in what little available space there is in my living room. The room and adjoining kitchen are crowded with everyone waiting for news. My parents. My brothers. Zara’s parents and brothers. Kim and Jess.
Simone is at home with the girls, anxious like the rest of us.
I haven’t told anyone—other than my brothers—about what Athena told me. The last thing Zara’s parents and brothers need to hear is that Zara is possibly in the hands of sex traffickers.
The police and FBI have swept my house for evidence. Now all we can do is wait.
And it’s killing me.
I write heroes who take charge and save the day. I’m a fucking Marine, and I can’t do a fucking thing to save my daughter and the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.
If I had been home…if I hadn’t run off like an idiot to confront Austin…if I had been here like I should have, working on my book, Emily would be alive, fine-tuning the last-minute details for next weekend’s wedding she was coordinating.
And Peony and Zara would be safe.
There has to be something I’m missing. A clue to tell the FBI where Peony and Zara might be found.
Athena is sitting in an armchair, her face, her body, her posture that of an anguished stone statue. She hasn’t spoken since combing through hundreds of Warrior photos taken during the past few months. She didn’t recognize in any of them the man who Peony freaked out over. I’m pretty sure it was Joffrey Winters, but he was one of the men who didn’t want to end up on social media, so we never took photos of him.
We have no idea if the man is linked to Emily’s murder and Peony’s and Zara’s disappearance. We have no idea if we’re chasing our own tail.
No one has made a ransom demand, so we still don’t know if that’s the motive for taking them. And there’s been nothing to suggest the kidnappers want Athena in their custody too.
The occasional murmur of voices or the sniff of a broken heart crack through the heavy silence in the room. The silence thunders in my ears, matches the echoingboom-boom-boomof my pulse.
I need to get out of here.
I just need a moment. A moment where I’m not reminded of how many lives will be forever changed if they don’t come home. I’m having a hard enough time keeping things together for myself. I can’t be strong for everyone else.
Outside, I walk across the patio to the grass and inhale the fresh mountain air. It doesn’t make a difference. It doesn’t fix my anger or my pain or my fear. It doesn’t bring my daughter and Zara home to me.
I pick up a small stone from the flower bed and hurl it against a maple tree. Anger rips through my throat in a yell. The stone bounces off the trunk and lands a few feet in front of a fairy door.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” I pick up another stone and another, each one hurled with the same force as the first. The stones litter the ground around the fake fairy home, and my lungs burn from all the yelling. But none of it makes me feel better. None of it brings Peony and Zara back to me.
The door clicks open. I turn to tell whomever it is to leave me the fuck alone. Unless they have news about Peony and Zara.
