at the crack of my one word. I hated the name Audrey had chosen, but now I couldn’t imagine calling her anything else. “It wasn’t my first choice, but you loved it, and so did your mother.”
I thought my confession would lessen Audrey’s sobs, not double them.
Shows how much I have to learn about women.
“Do you want me to call your parents? Tell them your safe?”
I can’t believe I didn’t do that instead of twiddling my thumbs the past five hours. It wouldn’t have taken long to advise them their daughter is alive but organizing their flights and accommodation would have gobbled up some time.
I halt searching for my phone in my pocket when Audrey shakes her head. With how many drugs Ollie is pumping into her, it should be a weak, pathetic shake. It’s nothing close to that. It was as determined as the clutch she has on my shirt and as resolute as the glint in her eyes. “I’ll call them later. Once this all settles down.”
The way she says ‘this’ has me suspicious she isn’t solely referencing Fien, herself, and me. She was pretty out of it during our drive from Rimi’s compound to here, but as Roxanne has said previously, the dead could feel the electricity brewing between us, so I’m confident a near unconscious woman would have.
Audrey will never call me out on it, though. I could go down on Roxanne in front of her, and she’d act as if I were doing something as innocent as eating breakfast.
I’m about to ask Audrey how much interaction she had with Roxanne the past three days, but the briefest tap on a window stops me. That gut-tingling sensation I mentioned missing earlier smacks into me full-pelt when my eyes stray to the noise. India is on the other side of the glass. She isn’t responsible for the buzz surging my pulse with adrenaline more potent than a bloodbath. It is my daughter, who’s being held in her arms.
Unlike when she was nuzzled in Roxanne’s chest, Fien is wide awake, peering my way. Her eyes are more cobalt blue than I realized. Her photos failed to show the almost purple ring around her dark blue eyes. They make her eyes unique, as one of a kind as she will forever be.
When I gesture for India to join us in Audrey’s room, Audrey’s hand shoots out to snatch my wrist. Once she has my focus, she adds a head shake to her firm clutch. “I don’t want her to see me like this. It might scare her.”
I curse under my breath, frustrated I hadn’t thought about that. Fien witnessed enough bloodshed today to last her a lifetime. I don’t want more horrific images added to the vault.
Relief engulfs Audrey’s features when I say, “All right. Once you’re set up in your room, I’ll organize for someone to bring Fien to see you.”
Audrey smiles. It isn’t the blinding one she used to give when she felt Fien kick her hand. It’s more subdued than happy. “Thank you.”
She loosens her grip on my wrist for barely a second before she tightens it again. When she locks her eyes with mine, an unusual spark in them reveals the words she wants to speak, her mouth simply refuses to relinquish them. I don’t mind. I’ve only heard those words from one woman before, and I’m more than happy to keep it that way.
“Get some rest. The sooner you’re back on your feet, the better it will be for all involved.”
I press my lips to Audrey’s temple before exiting the room, my heart racing more with every step I take. I’ve waited for this day for months, but instead of it happening in front of the people responsible for its occurrence, it’s being witnessed by two women who have always felt more like strangers to me instead of family.
“It’s okay,” India coos to Fien when I hold out my hands, hopeful a demure approach won’t see her releasing the tears damming in her eyes. It will break my heart if she cries when I hold her for the first time. I saw how badly her tears affected Roxanne. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to endure the same torture. “It’s Dada, Fien. Do you want to go to your dada?”
Months of torment, years of carnage, and a lifetime of injustices are undone when my daughter reaches out for me as I’m reaching for her. It’s all forgotten in an instant, but I will