Barrett snorts. “Of course you do.” He holds out his hand, tugging me to my feet. “You are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, Hope. What you’ve been through requires more strength than most people ever have to demonstrate in their lives. Don’t ever doubt how strong you are.”
My hand is still encased in his. He holds it close to his chest, his eyes boring into mine as though pleading for me to believe him.
I smile and nod, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my hair because I’m not sure what else to do.
“I mean it, Hope.”
“Mean what?” Jericho strides into the room.
“Nothing.” Barrett drops my hand and grabs a towel, looping it around his shoulders. His eyes flick back to mine before facing Jericho.
“Good,” Jericho says. “Because you’re supposed to be getting ready for tonight.” Jericho’s tone is snappish, like he’s searching for someone to argue with.
“I’m all sorted,” Barrett informs him.
“Shouldn’t you be on your way, then?”
“Just leaving now, sir.” Barrett spits out the word ‘sir’ purposely and Jericho’s frown deepens.
He narrows his eyes. “If you don’t think you’re up to this…” Jericho leaves the rest unspoken.
“I’m not the one I’m worried about.”
“Have you got something you want to say?” Jericho puffs his chest out, as though challenging him to a fight. Barrett is discreet when he looks at me, rolling his eyes a little. I stifle a laugh.
Barrett clamps Jericho on the shoulder. “Not at all. Hope everything goes well tonight.”
Jericho lets out a noise that resembles a growl as Barrett leaves the room.
“He’s got a lot on his plate today. He doesn’t need to be distracted by you wanting him to—”
“I think Barrett can decide what he does and doesn’t want to be distracted by. You, on the other hand, look as though you could use a distraction.”
Jericho sighs and runs his hands through his hair. “I don’t know if I can just sit there and watch them without wanting to put my hands around their fucking throats.” He mimes the actions as though the Gormans are right there in front of him. “Fuck!” he curses. “What if they have her? What if Berkley and Ette are right there while they’re sitting in my fucking house!”
Walking over to the punching bag, he lets loose, his blows swinging the bag wildly. He keeps punching and swinging until his face is red and his hair is damp with sweat.
“And what if they’re not?” I raise my voice to be heard over the sound of the punching. “We can’t risk—”
He stops, narrowing his eyes and speaks between gritted teeth. “I know, okay? I know. I’m not going to do anything to put Ette at risk. You should fucking know that by now.” He turns back to the boxing bag, hugging it with one arm while punching it with the other.
“Wow. Calm down, psycho,” I mutter.
Jericho whirls around at the sound of my voice. “Calm down?” He steps toward me. “Fucking calm down? I was calm. I stayed calm for years. I stayed calm when you went missing. Calm when the police said they had no fucking clue what had happened to you. Calm when I started searching on my own. Calm when I hit dead end after dead end, and calm when I had to sit there and watch the news knowing that that fucking monster had his hands on you. I’m done being calm.” He throws a few more punches at the bag, grunts littering the air with each blow.
I place my hand on his shoulder. He stops, but he doesn’t turn to face me.
“She really means something to you, doesn’t she?”
“She means everything.”
“We will get her back. She and Ette will come home and they will be safe.”
He looks at me with eyes filled with desperation. “How do you know that?”
“I don’t. But I have to believe it. If I don’t, there’s nothing left for me.”
Jericho covers his face with his hands and rubs vigorously. “I’m a selfish fucking bastard. I’m so sorry, Hope.”