Page 55 of Jericho

The house he's speaking of isn't in Virginia. It's in Connecticut, in a sleepy little town near Bridgeport. I didn't realize until he mentioned it in the video that he must've bought it at some point, although we've never been back since. He never told me he bought it, and I wonder why he'd bother adding it to his holdings to begin with. The man doesn't do anything for others, ever. It's possible he bought it this damn week just so he can taunt me with it.

As I cling to Nolan, the men talk, making it even more obvious that they don't realize Damien is speaking in code. He had to have known they would be listening and telling me to go to one place and expecting me to arrive in a different place is purposeful. It also makes it very clear that the expectation is to arrive alone, and there will be hell to pay if they even know about the alternate location.

When I begin to tremble harder, Nolan holds me tighter, but it doesn't bring the same relief as it once did. It feels smothering, and I'm already having a hard enough time barely keeping it together.

I press against his chest, ignoring the disappointed look on his face from the distance I've created.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice full of sadness.

"I just need a minute," I tell him as I climb out of his lap.

How can he ask such a question? I'm not okay. How could I ever be okay in a situation like this?

Maybe things are different for moms than dads. Maybe he doesn't have the same connection with Eli as I do because he's never met him. Does that make the need to save him less?

I can't imagine it does for him, but I can't take that chance. I know if they go and storm the place where Damien is, it willonly end in tragedy. Going to him alone is the only shot I have at keeping my son safe.

"I'm going to go back up to my room," I whisper when there's a break in the conversation.

Nolan locks his eyes on me, and I swear he can read my mind and knows what I'm planning, but I can't let that suspicion stop me.

"We're going to bring him home," he assures me. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he truly believes he's capable of that, but he doesn't know Damien the way I do.

My husband is sadistic, and he can never be wrong. His pride won't allow it. I think Damien would be more willing to kill a hundred people than have people think someone got the better of him. There's a very real chance he has things in place to do ultimate damage to who knows how many people if someone had the ability to take him down.

"Let's get something to eat first," Nolan says, standing instead of letting me leave the room alone.

"I'm not—" The growl of my stomach interrupts, betraying the lie I was about to tell.

The thought of eating right now makes my stomach turn, but I also know I'll need my strength for the journey ahead.

We don't go into the kitchen and just throw together a sandwich or something. Nolan pulls out pots and pans and some ground beef from the fridge.

He spends the next hour putting together some enchiladas with rice and beans as sides. As he toils in the kitchen, I feel my frustration and anger grow by leaps and bounds.

Even if I didn't have an alternate plan from theirs, this would still get on my nerves. He just saw a deranged psycho puta gun to our son's head, and he thinks cooking is the best use of his time.

I force myself to eat when he places a plate in front of me, and I'm sure the sour taste burning the back of my throat is from my situation and not his food.

I yawn several times during the meal, trying to make it as believable as possible so that when we're done eating, he won't question my need for a nap. I slept nearly all damn day already, but when I tell him I'm going to go to bed early, he doesn't argue.

I'm livid when he grabs my hand and walks up the stairs with me. I don't need an escort, and I'm at the point where I feel like a child being babysat. It grates on my nerves.

"Aren't you going to go help with Eli?"

His cheek flexes, his jaw tightening.

"They have it under control," he assures me as we step into the bedroom.

I turn to face him, wanting to tell him the truth. I try to convince myself that the help would be better, that Nolan has more skills that could end Damien's terror forever, but I just can't compromise Eli.

"You'll wake me if there are any updates?"

"Of course, Peach," he says, cupping my cheek.

I fight the urge to lean into his touch. I can't get lost in him ever again.

"Thank you," I whisper as I take a step back.

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