CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
ZAC
Mr Bryant drives as fast as he can to the closest airfield where his private jet waits for us. The whole time I can feel four sets of eyes staring at me, wondering what happened and once we get to the plane it is worse. I am forced to lie Hope down on a laid out chair, I don’t want to let her go. If I do, would I see her again?
Will they let me? Her father wraps blanket after blanket on top of her and I can see her shivering. She is so cold and there is nothing any of us can do to help her except get her to the doctor more quickly. I can feel all their eyes on me and it isn’t until we are halfway that Mr Bryant asks the question I had been fearing. I want to answer it but I don’t at the same time. I don’t want to admit to her family, to my best friend, my role in Hope’s pain. I am just as fucking bad as those monsters.
“What happened to my daughter?” How can I even answer that? If I tell them the truth they will beat me up which I can’t deny I deserve but what if they say to get lost? Tell me to never see her again? I love her and the thought of never seeing her is like cutting me away from oxygen. I need both to survive. I need her, but I tell them anyway. I tell them everything and when I am done I can see Joshua, all of them, anger radiating off of them all in waves and they are coming for me.
I am to blame.
It is all my fault and I deserve the silence and angry eyes that are fully loaded in my direction.
****
I am under attack but no blows or angry words are given. No, we all sit in silence listening as Hope whimpers and thrashes around in her blankets. All the eyes in the room are on me, no one has to say what they think, it is all written in their eyes, in the way they sit in front of me. I am surprised I am still alive.
It seems to take forever before we land in the grounds of the Bryant estate, right next door to a large mansion. The land is vast and I can see two different houses off in the distance but as the doors to the plane open Mr Bryant picks up his daughter and rushes towards the mansion. Doors swing open and a middle-aged woman rushes out with two other people behind her. I can hear Mr Bryant say something as he rushes past them as the two other figures follow him. The middle-aged woman stops and as we reach her Jacob turns to me.
“This is my mom, Isla.” He brushes past me, his brothers following and Isla just looks at me with tears welling up in her eyes. She’s a mother hurting for her child, I can’t bear to look at her. I brought that onto her. I brought that onto her brother, my friend. Her entire family. She steps forward and takes my hand, compassion lingering like a silent prayer in her sad eyes.
“Thank you.” She says before turning around and following her sons back into her home. I don’t know what to do. I am lost. I have done it. I brought Marco’s business down but I don’t feel as happy as I should. Two years’ worth of hard work are all over with, father and son will spend their days in a cell. I should have killed them with my bare hands but that would have been too easy on them. It is all over but what will happen to Hope? Can she get her life back after everything she has been through? After everything I helped do to her. I want to empty my stomach all over the grass, my best friend knows everything that I have done. Her father, her brothers, they all know. She knows and she’ll remember for the rest of her life and so will I.
The cold air attacks my skin, refreshing me from the stink of hell but it doesn’t do anything for my conscience as I decide to make my way into the house. It’s the size of a mansion but as I step inside it still looks like any other family home. Nothing speaks of wealth, only love, just like it did when I was a boy. Love bleeds from all the walls and I can hear the sound of crying from upstairs. I walk through the kitchen and climb the stairs, just dreading what I might find when I get to the top. All eyes are on me as I round the corner of the stairs, just waiting for me to explain why but I can feel my grip loosening on my sanity and I know that at any moment I will either punch something or just cry. I can’t do that, never show your emotions has been drilled into me like a fine oiled machine since I can remember.
“How is she?” I ask and Mr Bryant looks at me with disgust. Isla continues to look heartbroken and she just follows her husband into Hope’s room.
She’s in there.
She’s so close but I can’t go and see her. I can’t say I blame her father after everything I told him, but I need to see her. I need to touch her, to reassure myself that she’s safe, that she’s alive. I go to step towards the door but Jacob stands in my way.
“I think you need to give them time with her.” I look at my friend, his eyes only telling me of his anger and I know why he’s saying what he is but that does nothing for my heart. How can I help her the most? I shouldn’t be anywhere near her at the moment but I’m a selfish man. When she wakes up we’re both going to need time to get our heads around the last month.
****
I know I’m not invited.
When I was younger I always felt welcome here but now I’m just a bad penny, a bad smell that insists on lurking around.
I haven’t seen her eyes open in a week.
I haven’t been able to look into the sky-blue depths of her eyes to read her thoughts in a week. I miss her so much it hurts, my bodies crippled itself with the never-ending pain it has endured daily after we brought her home.
I feel so lost.
I feel so helpless as I stand by and watch time go by far too slowly and the only comfort I can feel is seeing the peace in her face at last. Her skin is warm and soft. I beg her with unsaid words to wake up so I can see the beauty in her eyes. I long to kiss her all over her skin, just to remind her how gentle I can be. I’m not the monster I tried to portray or her family think I am. They’ve allowed me to be in her room but only if someone else is with me. I can’t say I blame them but I’m not really a monster. Not really, I had a reason, but I keep silent, just praying all will be forgiven. With each day that passes I can feel the rate of my heartbeat slowing as despair and fear is all that takes over. The doctor says that she’ll wake when she’s ready, she’s been through so much, she’s dehydrated and underweight. She just needs to get her strength up, she needs time but time is taking too long. I have had so much quiet time to just think, think of all the things I helped do to her. As much as I try to listen to my own reasons they are just pathetic explanations. There was a greater good in play but I still did the worst thing a man can do to a woman. How can I expect her to wake up and get strong and heal herself while I stand by watching her with all the memories I’ll represent? My body feels fucking wrecked without her but maybe that’s what I should do to help her. Maybe she needs me gone to wake up.