Page 19 of Remy

“Because you’ve never not finished something you started, Remy. That’s what I loved most about you.” Silence lingers, and Ithink he’s fallen asleep, so I roll over to face him just to find him staring at me.

“I want to hate you,” he confesses.

“Then hate me, but I did what I had to do.”

“It’s hard for me to believe that,” he adds.

“I know it is. There were so many times I wanted to tell you about her. So many times I thought about it.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“And the video that night?”

“I didn’t send that,” I tell him. He nods his head and closes his eyes.

“I watched it over and over again, and every single time, I could tell somethin’ was off, but I was pissed by then. I knew you weren’t yourself.”

“Sleeping pills.”

“What?”

“He got me sleeping pills. I had a lot of trouble sleeping when he took her away. I tried, but I couldn’t. So he got me sleeping pills to help. They did, but they also caused weird dreams.”

“He drugged you.”

“Seems that way.”

“I don’t know what to say,” he admits to me.

“Me neither, except I’m sorry, Remy.”

Chapter 13

Remy

She fell asleep after we talked a little. It took all the strength I had in me to go into that room and not strangle her. My child is gone because she kept it a secret.

It’s been days. Days of searching and coming up empty. Days of not hearing anything from anyone. It’s killing me. It’s ripping me apart inside, so I know it must be doing something worse to her, but I can’t seem to care.

I sit at the bar in the main room as the guys talk. We have a location for a construction site that works at night. We’re planning on hitting it in the next few days since no one has heard from Stan’s sister again.

“You okay?” I hear someone call out and turn to see who they’re talking to. I see Tianna running into the bathroom and slamming the door quickly. I glance over at Gunner, but he just shrugs.

I shove off my stool and head for the bathroom, pushing the door open since she forgot to lock it. Tianna’s head is hanging in the toilet before she looks up at me.

“You okay?”

“I just don’t feel well.”

“It’s probably all the drugs leavin’ your system. Doc said it’ll make you sick,” I explain to her. She nods her head and throws up again as I grab a rag and wet it. “Here,” I tell her. She reaches up and grabs it, wiping her face and mouth.

“I took them nearly every night.”

“Yeah. You’re withdrawin’ from not havin’ them.”

“This is bad,” she says. I chuckle.

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