Page 137 of Righteous Enforcer
Now it makes me feel like shit because I’m lying to my own flesh and blood.
Especially since she’s latched onto me as her only source of safety in a world suddenly turned upside down.
God, I don’t want to fail her and yet I am.
"Sleep now," I whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
When her breathing finally evens out, I retreat to the hallway, leaning against the wall.
Exhaustion burns my eyes.
All these days of being her father, protector, and trying to fill the void her mother left have pushed me to the limit.
I'm a killer, an enforcer.
I know how to break men, not how to mend a child's broken heart.
Even as I curse Eva for what she's done, I find myself wishing she were here to tell me what to do to help her.
I go to my room and grab the bottle of scotch I’ve taken to hiding in my drawer.
I pour a glass and stand by my window, overlooking the back garden.
I can see the tree I, Eva, and Mirabella picnicked under. It was a happy moment.
Now Eva is out there somewhere.
Probably dead.
Because I did nothing to save her.
I down the liquor in one burning swallow and pour another, trying to drown the image of her body, broken and discarded, that haunts me every second of the day.
"Daddy?"
I turn to find Mirabella standing in the doorway, clutching her stuffed unicorn.
"What's wrong, Princess?" I set the glass down and cross to her.
"I dreamed about Mommy again."
I hear the words as an accusation. Like she knows her mommy is gone because I allowed it.
She has Eva's eyes, Eva's mouth when she frowns. A constant reminder of what I've condemned.
I lift her into my arms, and she tucks her head under my chin.
"She was crying.” Mirabella sniffles.
"It's just a dream."
But what if it isn't?
What if Eva is alive, crying out for help that will never come?
I carry Mirabella back to her bed and sit beside her, rubbing her back until she drifts off again.
The doubt that's been festering inside me grows stronger.
