Wherever It Leads(48)

Fenton takes a few slow steps towards me. He’s hesitant, like I’m going to start screaming at any given minute.

“Yeah, Dad. I’m with someone. I’m safe.” Fenton stops a few feet in front of me.

I blink rapidly, the tears threatening to fall again. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, sweetheart. Stay strong. Call me if you need me.”

“I will.” I end the call and press the phone to my chest. I try not to look at Fenton because, if I do, I know I’ll cry again.

“Are you all right?” he inquires, his voice wobbly.

“No.”

“Can I ask you what’s wrong?”

I force a swallow past the lump in my throat. It burns as it goes by, squeezing through the constriction like lava. “Brady, um, went to Zimbabwe a few months ago. He’s a doctor. He’s so freaking smart, Fenton.”

I look up into his grey eyes. They’re crystal clear, so much so that I can see my reflection. I look like a wreck. My tear-stained face swollen, my lips over-plump, my eyes bloodshot.

“He went there as a doctor. Grant had worked for the company before, some kind of security company or something. Grant’s the one that got him the job. Brady felt like it was his calling, in a way, to give back and felt like he could make a difference there. I begged him not to go . . .” My voice breaks and I can’t hold back the pain. The tears come again, wildly this time, and I bend forward in physical agony.

Fenton crushes me against him, holding my head against his body. The comfort breaks me, frees the rest of my anguish and I break down completely.

I sob so loudly I can’t hear my own thoughts. I cry so profusely his chest has a river of tears flowing onto the edge of his sweatpants. I wail so dramatically I’m sure someone is going to call the front desk.

I wipe the snot off my face and half-laugh at how ridiculous I must look. Today I felt like a goddess; tonight I feel like a baby.

“I begged him, Fenton,” I sniffle. “I told Brady I had a bad feeling about it, but he said it was where his heart was. And he had to follow it. So he went and I was right. I was right,” I whisper, wishing empatically I weren’t.

His face falls, his skin ashen. He’s as shocked as I was the first time I heard about it. You don’t expect this type of thing to happen to someone you know. This happens to other people.

“So they said my brother was helping a child and got kidnapped by a group of men. From what they’ve told us, it’s a local band of f*ckers, not some coordinated multi-national group. Even so, our government won’t negotiate with terrorists. And his employer . . .” I clench my jaw. “Fuck those *s.”

“What did they do?”

“Nothing. Not a f*cking thing. Grant says they sent them into an unauthorized area, that they’re a careless company behind a benevolent fa?ade. I believe that much is true because they don’t seem all that motivated to do anything.”

“But Brady went willingly, right?”

“That’s not the point,” I hiss. “And him not coming home wasn’t willing. So f*ck that.”

He follows me with his eyes as I roam the room.

“I hope they die a painful death. I hope they lose someone and it hurts so bad they can’t f*cking breathe. I hate them, Fenton,” I bite out, spinning around and looking at him. “I despise them.”

He swallows hard. “I can understand that. Of course they’re to blame.”

“Absolutely. If it weren’t for their carelessness and heartlessness, my brother wouldn’t be God knows where with guns pointed at his head right now.” The image skates through my mind and the tears form once again. “He doesn’t deserve this.”

My sight blurs and I drop my phone on the floor. Fenton is to me in a split second, scooping me up in his arms. I rest my head on his shoulder and cry.

“Shh,” he whispers, nuzzling my face with his head. “Shh, rudo.”

“I have to have him back,” I choke out through the tears. “This is destroying my family, especially my mother. I think she’s going to have a nervous breakdown or a heart attack. It’s impossible to live a normal life knowing he’s over there . . .”

We enter the bedroom and he lays me on the bed. He doesn’t break contact, just angles me so he can slide in behind me. We lie there in silence, me crying, Fenton rubbing my back, my arm, smoothing my hair.

Once I calm down, he kisses my cheek, letting his lips press against my skin for a moment longer than necessary.

“Do you need to go home?” he asks.

I turn over to look at him. His face is etched with concern, his eyes trying to figure out mine. But this time he won’t because I can’t figure them out myself. “No. There’s nothing I can do there. I just . . . I want to be here with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’m happy I got this call while I was with you. You just . . . you make it a little easier. Just knowing you’re here.”

His smile is forced, the lines around his eyes deep. I remember he was dealing with something too, before I got my call.

“Are you all right? You got a call . . .”

His eyes flutter closed for a brief moment. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will,” I say, trying hard to smile.