Chapter 92

ASHER

I barge into my dad’s office, expecting to find him there.

But it’s empty.

I don’t know what I was hoping for, but this wasn’t it.

The desk is bare, the carpet spotless, and the trash can has a fresh liner.

It smells like Catherine, our housekeeper, has been here recently, but my father hasn’t.

Even his laptop and bag are gone, which he only takes when he plans to be away for a while.

This means he’s gone back to his original plan—the one I thought he’d abandoned.

Once again, he’s disregarded my feelings and opinions as if they don’t matter.

I walk over to the window and look down at the driveway.

Several cars are missing, including my dad’s and some belonging to Senses employees.

I realize they’re gone because they’ve taken Maddison back to the place I rescued her from.

I’m furious, seething, and I can feel my emotions taking control as I imagine destroying everything in sight.

I’m about to storm out and find one of my other dads to help me contact Callum when I notice the whiteboard behind the door.

It’s one of those portable ones that federal agents use in their cramped offices while working on a case.

Usually, my dad’s board is blank, waiting for someone to write on it.

But not today.

I slam the door shut to reveal the entire board.

There are photos of girls, dozens of them, arranged in neat rows.

Each girl has a name written above her picture, a reminder of her humanity.

And all of them are connected to Fennick with pieces of string.

Every girl from that woman’s file is on the board, and then some.

There are names, birth dates, and dates they went missing.

Details about their lives—where they went to school, who their friends and boyfriends were—are written in small handwriting next to their pictures.

The handwriting looks like my mom’s.

My mom… Could she be involved?

I can’t even finish the thought.

The idea of her betrayal shatters my heart.

It feels like a hot iron searing my skin.

All this information, gathered by my dad over weeks or months, is right in front of me.

But I’ve never seen it before.

I’m familiar with this board, but seeing these girls here is new.

And then I see Maddison’s picture.

Her photo is at the top right of the board, as prominent as Fennick’s. There’s so much information about her—her parents, her father’s illegal activities, her half-siblings, friends, and a boyfriend without a picture.

There are bank accounts in her name, with money wired from all over the world, even though she’s never withdrawn a penny. She’s a main suspect in my dad’s case, and I can’t understand why he thinks she’s involved in such depravity.

I’m even angrier than when I first walked in. I lose control and knock the board to the floor, kicking it until the pictures scatter and the board breaks into pieces.

I throw the chair, desk, and trash can around the room, letting my anger consume me. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way, since I’ve been sober enough to feel anything.

And now I feel everything. ~God, do I feel.~

Every emotion is coursing through me like a runaway train: anger, sadness, betrayal.

Love, fear, abandonment. Did Maddy choose to leave me? Did she go back to her old life without me because she feels she belongs there?

Or did my parents take away the first person I’ve allowed myself to connect with since my early teens? Why am I sober? Why didn’t I smoke this morning or last night?

I have a stash in the treehouse. Under the fifth floorboard from the door, there’s weed wrapped in plastic.

I collapse onto the floor amidst the chaos of my rage. Suddenly, a hand touches my cheek, wiping away tears I didn’t realize I’d shed.

~Mom.~ Her eyes are full of sorrow as she looks at me, then at the destruction around us.

“Shh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her fingers tracing my cheek, cradling me in her lap like a child who’s just taken a tumble and scraped his knee.

She holds me close, humming the familiar tune of my favorite lullaby as she gently strokes my hair.

“You’re allowed to feel, Asher. It doesn’t make you any less of a man,” she whispers, her soft voice soothing as she plays with my hair.

I remain silent, lying there like a discarded seashell, empty and hollow after its inhabitant has moved on.

Callum has taken Maddy; my mother has been aiding him… Who knows if my other fathers are aware.

So why am I here, nestled in my mother’s lap, allowing her to calm my ragged breathing?

The room is eerily quiet as I fixate on the fallen picture of Maddison, her image staring back at me from the floor, just a few feet away.

It’s as if her eyes are pleading with me not to give up on her. Not to discard her like I’ve done with everything else in this room.

I yearn to beg her for forgiveness, to confess my true feelings, but I remain silent. What good would it do? It’s just a picture, a poor-quality one at that.

“Asher?” My mother’s voice breaks my reverie.

I rise, my gaze drawn to the door, silently urging me to make a swift exit.

“Mother?” I respond, not daring to look her way, afraid that if I do, I might forgive her before she explains her involvement.

“We need to talk,” she says, clearing some of the debris from the floor around her.

I glance back at her, my expression filled with disdain. My own mother, deceiving me in the face of the truth.

“Talking would have been a good idea the day I brought the girls home, Mother…”

“Maybe, or maybe you would have shut down and created a divide like you’re doing now,” she replies softly.

“You knew, Mother; you knew who she was. Who she is. And yet you let him take her. To hand her over to the people I want to kill for her.”

She hurries over to me, stepping over the shattered remnants of plastic and pictures.

“Asher, this is about more than just your feelings for Maddison. I see it; I see how she’s torn down your walls. But she’s crucial to this case; she’s the key to exposing a ring of men trafficking girls… Without her, more girls will be sold. She’s the key.”

“I don’t give a damn what you think; she’s not involved in this,” I retort.

“Of course she’s not, Asher. We know that. But her father is a prime suspect, and he’s using her name to traffic these girls. The men at Sanctum are paying into her account for the sale of these girls. We need her, and we need her in Sanctum to solve this.”

“Solve this? Jesus, Mother. She’s a person, just like you. Would you have wanted to be sent back to that man’s house? Forced to endure the rape he would have subjected you to? The rape they’ll make her endure?”

I try to move, but she stops me, her hand on my bicep as she looks at me, bewildered. I guess I know too much, and I’ve let slip the secrets I’ve been harboring for years. Yes, Mother, people talk, and I know more than you’d like me to…

“She’s wired; they won’t—”

“DON’T! Don’t fucking lie to me, Mother.”

“What do you want me to say, Asher?”

“Nothing. Say fucking nothing,” I snap as she finally releases her grip on me, allowing me to leave.