Page 52 of Jericho

"Thank you," I tell him, saltiness from my tears coating my lips.

Knowing people are willing to fight for him means a lot, but that still doesn't stop the pain from knowing all of this would've never happened if Nolan had just stayed the fuck out of our business.

"Peach?" Nolan whispers after a long moment, and it's my breaking point.

I stand once again, my hands clenched in fists.

"I will never forgive you if something happens to him," I say, my voice low and full of hatred.

"Peach," he says again, his tone low and full of pain, but I can't consider his pain.

It doesn't matter to me.

"You should've stayed dead!" I scream as I inch closer and pound my fists on his chest.

He stands there and takes it. I break when I look up and see the tears streaming down his face, traveling the length of the scar on his left cheek.

When he lifts his arms and wraps them around me, I fall against his chest and sob.

Eli is my entire world, and somehow, in a matter of days, he has become Nolan's entire world as well.

Chapter 27

Jericho

I know exactly how she feels, and I deserve every bit of her frustration and ire.

I'll never forgive myself either if anything happens to Eli. I don't want to be in a world where he doesn't exist, and I've seen enough evil to know exactly how fucking bad this entire situation is. I've seen men use children as pawns and human shields. I've seen in real life that they do horrific things to other humans that people cringe at when they see it depicted in movies. It makes this ten times harder to face, and there are moments when I wish I was as ignorant of it all as most people are. They're the lucky ones, the ones who can close their eyes at night and not see pale, graying skin, and lifeless eyes.

"Keep me updated, " I tell Kincaid and Hemlock as I sweep Aspen up in my arms and carry her from the room.

She buries her face in my neck as I climb the stairs.

I don't want to make excuses, but I think this woman sees me as the type of man who doesn't think shit through, and there's this desperate need inside of me to explain what happened with the raid on the house Eli was supposed to be in.

"I know you probably don't want to have anything to do with me," I tell her as I lower us into the chair in the corner, making sure to keep my arms locked around her. "But I need you to know that we thought we had good intel when the raid happened in Hartford. Within minutes of me pulling up outside of the salon and picking you up, the team was kicking in that door. The kids had already been moved."

She sniffles, but she doesn't speak, and I hold her just a little tighter, feeling a pinch of relief when she clings to me a little more. I don't doubt that she does hate me as much as she claimed she did in the conference room, and there will always be a part of me that hates myself no matter how this entire situation turns out.

But at least she can also see me as someone to depend on. I have no idea how long it will last. This could work out with Eli coming home, which is the best possible outcome, and she could still hate me. Honestly, as much as it pains me to think that she could hate me forever for the mistakes I've made, the safety of my son is the only thing that matters.

"It doesn't matter that at the time I thought he was Damien's son. If I had thought for a second that what I was doing was putting a child in danger, I never would've risked it," I continue to explain. "That's not how we operate. Working for your father made me realize just how important it was to get kids away from men like him. It's insanity to raise kids in such a toxic and criminal environment. Rarely do they view the world differently from how they were raised. It's how generation after generation keeps growing. It would've been the same for Eli. Damien would've turned him into his protégé."

"If I could go back to him—"

"You can't," I rush out. "No matter what Damien might promise you about how this could all work out, he will never keep his promise. He doesn't have it in him to forgive anyone, and it wouldn't matter that you were practically abducted."

I pull back some and curl my finger under her tear-soaked chin so she's looking at me.

"If you're thinking of taking off and going back to him to protect Eli, it won't work. It'll only get you killed. Tell me you know that," I urge.

"I think if I gave myself back to him, he'd spare Eli. Maybe he'll let you have him."

My heart aches for her reasoning, but there's no bargaining with the devil where anyone comes out on top.

"It won't work," I tell her, selfishly unwilling to even consider watching her go back to such an evil man. "If he doesn't have Eli, he doesn't have power over you. The man is evil, not stupid. Even if he vowed it, he never keeps his promise. He didn't kill me that day out of spite toward your father. He can't be trusted."

"I'll live a life of torture and hatred if it means—"

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