Gone - Anna Brooks Page 0,69
and reassure her that everything is okay.
When I get back inside, I do another round, checking the windows and doors, even though I did it an hour ago. “What was that really about?” Iz asks when I sit down next to her.
“Truthfully, I don’t even know. I gave up trying to understand my father a long time ago. I want to think that maybe he’s coming around, but I know better. From what he said, my guess is just vanity. If someone in his family walked around with a scar on their face, it would make him look bad.”
“I don’t want a scar, but if I had one, I don’t think I’d ever even contemplate plastic surgery.”
“And I wouldn’t want you to. You’re beautiful, all of you is beautiful. What I’m attracted to the most is the beauty of your heart.” I run my fingers through her hair. “You’re like a buried treasure, Izzy. My treasure. I had to dig through the dirt to finally get my hands on what I knew would be gold. But once I did that, it didn’t matter how shiny the outside of the packaging was anymore because what’s precious isn’t what was keeping the valuables locked away. The only thing with any worth is the treasure inside. And you gave me the key to unlock the most prized possession, so it’s mine now. You’re mine. And there is nothing in the world that will tarnish that beauty.”
She raises her arm and places her hand on my cheek as best she can. “That’s the most wonderful thing anybody has ever said to me, but even better than that is I believe every word. And you know, it’s the same for you.”
I spread my legs when she crawls over to me and rests her head on my chest. “I don’t understand who would try to kill me. Or why. I’m so scared, Damien.”
Her hushed words make me hold her tighter. “I know you are, and that’s okay. We’re gonna figure this out. Promise you. I won’t let anything else happen to you.”
“You can’t make that promise. Nobody can, and I don’t expect you to. I just don’t understand. That’s what’s so scary.”
“It is. I can’t imagine why anybody would want to hurt you, and you’re right. I can’t promise nothing bad will never happen to you ever again, but what I can guarantee is that they’ll have to go through me to get to you, and I’ll die before I ever let anybody harm you again.”
“I love you.”
I kiss the top of her head. “I know you do, Izzy baby. I love you, too.”
She’s not tired anymore, so I sit in bed with her for the rest of the night, talking about nothing. Like we used to before all this shit happened, which was and is my favorite place to be.
Her weight gets heavier, and when she finally falls asleep, I regretfully place her on her side of the bed and cover her up, and then I resume my position in the doorway. I’ve been in communication with Q and Gio the entire time, and they’ve let me know they’re working on leads, and as soon as the detective gets Izzy’s statement tomorrow, we’re all hunting.
Chapter 18
Damien
“My relationship with Mario ended, and as far as I know, he moved to another state.”
“Was the breakup amicable?” Detective Reyes, which is ironic as fuck, asks Izzy.
She lies like a trooper. Not that I condone lying, but in this case, it’s necessary. “Yes.”
“Why did the relationship end?”
“We just weren’t at the same place in life. He wanted to go out all weekend, and I wanted quiet nights in. We simply didn’t work anymore.”
The detective nods. “You said his name was Mario, correct?”
“Yes. His last name was Garcia.”
“What is his last known address?”
“I don’t remember the number. But he lived in that complex on 76th and Washington.”
She scribbles on her notepad. “And after him?”
Iz shakes her head. “Nobody else until Damien?” she asks.
“Nobody? Not even a blind date that went bad. Nothing?”
“Nope. Nobody else.”
“Do you recall any men from your work hanging around a lot, developing an interest in you, maybe asking personal questions?”
Again, she shakes her head. “No. Honestly.”
Detective Reyes smiles. “Okay, thank you. If you think of anything else, please give me a call. I’m going to do my best to find out who did this to you, Ms. Antonetti.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it, Detective.”
She tucks the small notepad into the back pocket of her black pants. “I’ll