Page 29 of Jericho

Tears race down my face, and I hate the way they weaken me. I'm just a sobbing, emotional woman, but I can't seem to help it. I know the tears do nothing to help the issues at hand, but I've never had very good control over my own emotions except when faced with the monster Damien is.

"I think Damien has known for a while that Eli isn't his son," I confess. "He was suspicious when he was born with your green eyes, but I lied and told him that my mother's eyes were green. She was gone long before he came to work for my dad, and all evidence that she had ever existed had already been removed from the house."

He keeps his eyes cast away, but I can tell he's hanging onto every word, so I continue to speak.

"I had a nurse help me and bless her for doing so. I think we both would've been dead the second we were released from the hospital. When Eli was old enough to start school, Damien didn't waste a second shipping him off. I've always figured that my days were limited. If he knows he's not the father, then I'm no longer useful to him."

"You could give him another heir," he says. "A true heir."

"It was a complicated birth," I explain. "I can't have any more children."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says. "Tell me more about him."

"He only comes to me now when he's feeling extra sadistic."

"Not fucking Damien Gaines, Peach. I don't give two fucks about that evil bastard. His death warrant has already been signed. Tell me about my son."

My son.

He's already claimed my boy, and I don't know how to feel about that.

I pull in a deep breath. "He's smart. Compassionate, but I don't know how long he'll be able to hold on to that trait. A person can only go through so much before the world leaves its mark on them."

"Don't I fucking know it," he mutters.

"He loves peanut butter and grape jelly sandwiches," I continue. "He doesn't eat much meat, but he loves anything dairy. Plain Greek yogurt is a favorite of his."

I cough, attempting to clear my throat when I grow even more emotional, but I can't seem to dislodge the lump that is obstructing it.

I try to take a deeper breath, but it doesn't seem to help either.

My vision starts to blur from more than just the tears streaming down my face.

"Breathe, Peach. Deep breath in, slow breath out."

I didn't even realize he moved until I feel the warmth of his hands on my shoulders.

"Breathe," he urges again as my vision grows even weaker.

I begin to shake, but I hiss a sharp breath when he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. Somehow the intimate touch pulls me from the beginning of a panic attack.

I stare at him, watching his face as I manage to pull in deep breaths and release them slowly as he instructed.

"I did the best I could do with the circumstances I was given," I whisper after a long moment of looking into each other's eyes. "There hasn't been a day that has gone by since hewas born that I haven't tried to figure out a way to get us both out of there."

His thumb moves from my lip, trailing down my cheek, and I feel the spark of everything I felt for him before renewed.

"Damien hasn't slipped once since I brought Eli home from the hospital. Even with his increased drinking and partying, he hasn't left papers out or mentioned where he has been keeping Eli. Every time I push the subject, he hurts me. I want you to know I'd take a million beatings just to keep him safe."

"I believe that," he says, his voice soft.

"I couldn't leave like my mother did. I'd never walk away from him. I hate that he was so close, and there was nothing I could do to get to him. If things were different—"

"Neither one of us can live in the past, Aspen."

Aspen. Not Peach.

He's already pulling away, and my mind rushes with ideas of what I can say or do to keep him close. I've never felt safer or more cared for than the moments I've been able to spend in his arms. My body and soul ache for the relief that would provide me right now.

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