Page 41 of Jericho

I sleep off and on for what feels like days, as if my body hasn't had rest in longer than I can remember.

We stop for bathroom breaks and to get gas three times, grabbing gas station snacks to tide us over rather than any form of real food. As much as I hate it, I don't say anything. I'm not in a position to complain about the things he has to do to keep me safe.

I still can't help but think about Eli and what all of this could bring to his feet. My sweet little seven-year-old boy deserves so much more than the life I brought him into. I have to trust that Nolan and the men working with him are doing everything they can to make sure that he gets back to me safe and sound.

The quick turns and curves shift my body back and forth, making me open my eyes and sit straighter in the seat. I look out the window, seeing through the leafless trees. It's a beautiful sight even in the bareness of winter. Since I was sleeping so much, I know we're in Tennessee but I don't know if we're in the Smokies or the Appalachian Mountains.

"Where are we?" I whisper.

"Gatlinburg," he answers, his voice sounding as weary as I still feel even after several hours of off-and-on sleep.

A couple more turns in the road brings us to the driveway of a massive cabin. The house I grew up in was big, but it's a real possibility that this house could be even bigger.

"Have you heard anything about Eli?" I ask, praying I missed a call with good news and he was letting me sleep instead of waking me to tell me.

"Nothing new."

My chest caves in, tears burning the backs of my eyes.

Warmth covers my hand, and I glance down to see his big hand in my lap, right over mine.

"Look at me, Peach."

It takes a minute before I feel strong enough to look him in the eyes, but, eventually, I manage it.

"You're safe here. We have countless men working on bringing our son home."

"Wh-who are you?" I ask, my eyes darting to the multi-million-dollar home. "If you're not a fed, what have you gotten yourself into?"

His lips form a flat line. He has already told me once that he wasn't going to go into detail about who he is and what he does for a living, but I guess killing four men and cutting a tracker out of the back of my neck didn't bring him any closer to trusting me.

"Just know that we're the good guys. We don't hurt people who don't deserve it, and we fight with everything we have to bring justice to horrible people."

"People like my father?" I whisper.

"Your father was a piece of shit, Peach, and although you may have loved him in your own way, that fact still remains. He hurt countless people with his guns and drugs, but the team I work for focuses more on sex-trafficked individuals. Your father and Damien Gaines wouldn't have been on our list of people to take down until I asked them for help with Eli."

Eli. Not me.

It shouldn't hurt my feelings, but I'm no longer in control of how I react to his words. Honestly, feeling happy he's willing to help and get others involved is amazing. Without them, I have no chance to get my son back. Damien has never been the type to feel bad for someone and grant them a reprieve. He sure as hell wouldn't do a single thing to ease my mind or make my life easier.

"Let's go inside," he says before pulling his hand back from mine and opening his door.

I feel antsy, not knowing what I'm going to face inside the house. It's much too big to be only his, telling me there are people inside, and I've seen a lot of betrayal in my life. He managed to slip into my father's organization unnoticed, so it wouldn't be unheard of for someone inside to have been turned by Damien or to have been a plant from the beginning since my husband didn't kill him like he had claimed he had for years.

What else has Damien been lying about?

"How much more danger is Eli in since you killed those men?" I ask when he opens my car door.

"I can't answer that question, Peach," he says as he reaches down and takes my hand the second I climb out of the car. "But I can tell you that there was no way around it. There was no bargaining with those men."

"What if they were doing Damien's bidding to protect their own children? What if Damien has their kids too?"

A sob bubbles from my throat, making me feel even more helpless and out of control.

"Then they died as heroes for their kids," he says without apology.

The front door opens before we make it onto the porch, and my feet skip a step at the sight of the beautiful woman standing in the doorway with a soft smile on her face.

---