He rushed him and placed his hands around his throat. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and breath rattled around in his throat, sounding like a balloon that sprung a leak.
“Whoa. Wait, wait, wait,” Sharp said, pulling at his left arm as Sick pulled the right.
He roared as he struggled against him.
“You never found her, man. This might be legit,” Data yelled.
Snake released the man’s throat and stumbled back.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Snake hissed.
“Not dead, just rehoused. Ain’t telling you more until I’m someplace safe.”
With that sentence, the floor fell out of his world.
He sat on the cold concrete, thoroughly knocked on his ass. He’d never even considered her as anything other than dead. Images of a pitiful waif beaten down and jaded by human trafficking sprang forth in his mind. What the hell has she been going through all this time? Did she think I just gave her up? His stomach turned. He rose and stalked out of the shed, sucking down crisp night air to keep from losing everything in his belly. Footsteps followed him.
“You think he’s telling the truth?” Data asked.
“I have no clue. It could be fuck fuck games. If so, he won hands down. If he was being honest, Jesus Christ, what shape is my baby girl in?” he whispered.
“What do you want to do?”
“Can’t risk losing her if we off him. She’ll be lost in the wind. Fuck.” He speared his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. “I’m too old for this shit.”
“We need to figure out our next step. If he’s still breathing, we need to figure out where to store him.”
“Keep him here, we’ll do shifts. I refuse to give him any comfort. If he thinks he can sway this situation in his favor, he’ll make us his bitches. We need to let him know we think he’s full of shit and keep him scared for his life.”
“We can do that no problem, Veep.”
“Shit. I need a minute.”
“Take all the time you need. Sharp and Sick are introducing themselves.” Data patted his back and walked back into the shed. The noise of the torture faded into the background as he stared unseeing at the forest. What am I supposed to do with this? Any wrong move could damn his daughter. All this time he’d been drinking, fucking, and carrying on, while she’d been out there trapped. I really do not deserve something so precious. Guilt hit him like a sledgehammer to the chest. He gasped for air. The world swam. He stumbled over to a tree and leaned against it. Sweat slipped down his neck and forehead and dripped onto his black hoodie. Lord in heaven, if you’re still listening to a fuck up like me, I could use a little help. He needed to keep his shit together. Any misstep could ruin any chance he had of finding her. If he’s telling the truth. He wanted to believe him. That his Jocelyn was around somewhere, still living and breathing. They’d pick up the others, get them all hurting, talking, and ready to sell each other down the river. Then the truth would be revealed. He just needed to keep it together until that happened.
§
Estelle
The abrasive jangle of her cell phone yanked her from a deep slumber. She rolled onto her side, reached out, and patted the nightstand until she grabbed the vibrating square. She pulled it into her nest of blankets and put it to her ear.
“Hello?” she croaked.
“Es, I need you.”
The anxiety in his voice pushed away her sleep. “Xavier, what’s wrong?”
“Everything. I think I fucked up big time, Es. I think my little girl’s suffering.” His words were slurred. His voice wavered.
“No, she’s some place where pain and sorrow no longer exist.”
“I don’t think she is. They never found her remains. How could I be so stupid? I don’t believe she died.”
“Wait, what?” She sat up in bed, shoving the tangled locks away from her face. “What brought this self-doubt on? Where do you think she’s been this entire time?”
“I don’t know, and that’s what kills me.”
The sound of shattering glass made her jump. “Where are you, Xavier?” she asked, careful to keep her voice even as her sluggish sleep-laden brain woke up.