But I’d been happy. Happy in a resigned, compromised way. Resolved to love him the best that I could.
Suddenly, I was struck with an urge. A frenzied desperation as I lifted the frame and threw it against the wall.
Glass shattered, the frame bent, and the picture shifted from its position.
I gasped when I saw something peeking out from underneath.
I dropped to my knees and grabbed the metal, shaking the glass loose, the knot in my chest expanding in this blossoming pain when the small folded piece of paper slipped out.
Blinking through the bleariness, I carefully grabbed it and unfolded the letter.
My heart twisted in two.
He was always your beast. I never should have tried to compete with that.
Instantly, I was taken back to the day we’d argued, when he’d screamed at me to throw the Beast away, that he didn’t want any memories of Jace in our home.
I hadn’t had the heart to get rid of it and had hidden it in the back of the closet.
I’d almost regretted not throwing it away the day Bailey had found it and started carrying it around as if it was her best friend, the quiet yielding hurt that had blanketed Joseph’s eyes when he’d come home and found his daughter carrying on about how much she loved it.
The Beast.
The Beast.
Choking over the sobs in my throat, I climbed to my feet, raced to my dresser, and pulled on a tee and sweats.
Without slowing, I rushed to my daughter’s room and I gently pulled the tattered stuffed animal out from under her arm, careful not to wake her as I knelt beside her bed and frantically searched.
Hands pressing hard over the face and the arms.
I froze for a beat when I patted down the blue jacket and felt the crinkle in the sewn-down pocket.
Shooting to my feet, I hurried back out and into my room, fumbling for the scissors. Frantic, hiccupped sounds jetted from my mouth as I cut it open and found another note.
This was a series of six numbers.
And I remembered the key.
The key in the drawer with the letter.
A trail that Joseph had left me because he’d known.
Oh God, he’d known he was leaving this world.
Memories flashed.
Joseph and I on the top floor as we made plans to clear a few things out. He’d brought attention to the old safe up there, winked at me when he’d said, “This baby holds all my secrets.”
I’d thought he was joking.
Teasing me.
Breaths heaved in and out of my aching lungs, and my heart stampeded, so out of control as I rushed to the drawer and grabbed the key and fumbled upstairs to the third floor.
Darkness spread out over the rambling, open space. Antique furniture was everywhere, some covered in sheets and drapes, other pieces covered in dust.
I scrambled for the old safe where it was hidden inside an armoire, hardly able to get my hands to cooperate as I shoved the ancient key into the lock, my spirit screaming as the old door creaked open.
Inside was a small, newer safe. The kind that had digital numbers to enter the code.
My entire body rattled as I pulled it out and tried to squint at the numbers on the sheet.
Then I froze when I heard the creak from behind me.
I wasn’t quite sure what it was. What made the fine hairs at my nape stand at attention.
The ugly presence that billowed through the space.
Fear banged through me, so intense it whipped against my skin like physical blows.
A warning.
Intuition.
Terrified, I turned my head to look over my shoulder.
Felix stood at the top of the stairs.
“Felix?” I asked, almost like a question. “Hey . . . hi . . . I’m so glad you’re here.”
But I wasn’t glad he was there. Wasn’t relieved to see him. Because I couldn’t escape the feeling that something was off.
His normal fun-going casualness wiped away in his slow approach.
He was wearing his uniform . . . but somehow . . . somehow looking at him right then, it fit all wrong.
His eyes looked . . . different.
Harder and meaner.
As if a mask had been ripped from his face to reveal what was really hidden underneath.
My blood ran cold.
“Looks like you knew where it was all along. I was beginning to think you really were ignorant.”
He cracked a twisted grin when he looked between me and the safe sitting on the floor in front of me.
Awareness hit me, sending a bolt of terror ripping through my consciousness, and my eyes started to dart all over the place, trying to find a way out.
A way to get to my daughter and get us free.
A way to scream loud enough that Jace might hear.
I did.
Oh, I screamed.
It didn’t matter.
There was no one there to hear it. No one there to save me. So, I did the only thing I could do.