Chapter 30
Brooks
“O kay, so it’s not Jessie,” Gracyn says as we walk through the front door.
I want to believe that. I really do . But I’m having a hard time thinking that despicable woman knows nothing.
“Then who?” she whispers to herself.
If I knew the answer to that, my daughter would be home with me right now. In her bed. Dreaming of dancing on a stage on Broadway.
“Who the hell has my daughter!” I roar, chucking my keys across the dark living room in a fit of rage. “How could she have just disappeared?”
Rage boils over as I storm over to the whiteboard, ripping Jessie’s picture off and shredding it to pieces. I can’t stand to look at the woman a second more. The pieces fall to the ground like confetti at my feet.
I continue on to my bedroom, Gracyn’s soft footsteps trailing behind me.
“Addison said your parents and Jessie’s parents will be here tomorrow.”
Just what I fucking need. More people hovering over me.
She continues. “I just don’t want to be in the way or a distraction. Addison didn’t mention Judith’s mom. Will she be here, also?”
I freeze mid-step, spinning around so fast, she nearly walks into me. “Did you say Judith’s mom?”
Gracyn blinks, startled by my reaction. “Oh, does she not see her very often?”
God, I hope not.
“Judith’s mom died three years ago.”
She tilts her head. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure,” I snap, though my anger isn’t directed at her. “She took off for two weeks to go out west for the funeral. I even sent flowers to the funeral home.”
She hums, her gaze shifting to the bedroom windows. I blink twice, trying to keep my irritation in check. Calm down. She’s only trying to help . I’m about to turn to head into the bathroom when she finally looks back, her expression curious but cautious.
“When Presley called to tell me she was excited that I was her new mom,” she starts, and I cringe. The reminder is a slap in the face that my daughter has not been my priority for the last few weeks. “I overheard Judith tell Presley that her mom was waiting for them.”
She must have misheard her.
“Since that’s not possible, they must’ve been going with someone else,” I reply, but the idea doesn’t sit well with me.
That isn’t supposed to happen. Judith can do whatever she wants in her free time, but when she’s with Presley, she’s working. Not going on dates with friends. And if she was meeting someone with Presley, she should’ve had it approved.
“I remember it distinctly because it occurred to me that even though Presley didn’t have a mom, she has a lot of female influences in her life.”
I shake my head and shrug, not sure what to tell her.
“Call her and ask who she was with that day,” she says, her stubborn streak showing.
I rub my temple. “I’ll ask her tomorrow. It’s late.”
She stares at me, not satisfied with my answer. And now she’s planted a seed. It wasn’t her mom, so who was it? With a slight irritation, I swipe the phone off the nightstand and sit on the edge of the bed. Sitting beside me, she leans her head to listen.
Judith answers on the fourth ring. “Brooks, did they find her?”
“No,” I mutter in disappointment. “Sorry to call so late. Where are you? Why do you sound out of breath?”
“At home. I just got off the treadmill,” she says, her breathing slightly labored. “What’s going on?”
I could use a long run at the moment. “A couple weeks ago, did you take Pres out with you and a friend?”
There’s a pause and shuffling on the other end. “Uh … are you talking about the weekend you flew to Vegas?” After a sharp yes, she replies, “We did. We met my friend, Tom.”
I sit up straighter, her reply sending a flash of heat down my spine. “Tom who? And why the hell is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”
“I told you. It wasn’t a secret,” she replies confidently, making me second-guess my memory. “We already had plans, but you needed me to take Presley last minute so you could go to Vegas. I asked you if it was all right.”
I was so distracted, so consumed by the thought of Gracyn using me. Is it possible that I forgot?
“Right,” I murmur. “I must’ve missed that. Sorry for calling so late.”
“Brooks, don’t apologize. I’m trying to go over everything with a fine-tooth comb as well. This was under my watch. I was responsible for her.”
Her voice trembles, and a wave of guilt hits me for questioning her.
“It’s not your fault, Judith. I know how much you love Presley.”
She’s sniffling when I end the call. I stare at the phone in my hand. Why the hell did I do that? That was like me questioning Addison.
“Fuck!” I belt out, throwing the phone across the bed. When Gracyn doesn’t say anything, I take a deep breath, exhale through my nose, and turn toward her. “I didn’t mean to make her feel bad.”
When she twists her lips but continues to stay quiet, I wonder if I pissed her off, too.
“What?” I quip.
She crosses her legs under her with a serious face. When she puts her palm on my arm and hesitates, I lift a brow.
“I’m saying this from an outsider, so don’t get mad.”
It’s a little late for that. She pauses and waits for me to agree. I do a single frustrated nod.
“I get that she’s been in your life for five years but…” she says, scrunching her nose.
Six, but who’s counting ?
“Spit it out, Gracyn.”
“Does Judith usually meet men when she has Presley?”
“Hell no. It’s in her contract. All men have to be approved of by me if Presley is around them.”
She points her finger as if she’s made her point. I look up at the ceiling and groan, the headache growing under pressure. Tom . Who the fuck is Tom? Why have I never heard of him? Why didn’t I question that ?
Because I hurt her feelings.
Fuck feelings.
My daughter is missing.
Realization hits me. That was the night Presley got sick. Why didn’t she mention him after I got home? Why didn’t Presley ever say anything about him? I crawl across the bed to grab my phone and dial Aiden.
“What’s up?” he answers on the first ring, sounding wide awake.
“The day Pres got sick and I was in Vegas, did Judith mention having dinner with a guy named Tom?”
“Who’s Tom?”
Exactly my thoughts.
“No. Did she say something to you about him?” he asks.
I repeat everything that’s happened tonight, including Jessie. He voices his anger about being left out of that meeting. Jessie, surprisingly, isn’t the topic of this discussion, so I revert to Tom .
“You know damn well Addison would’ve run a background check on any guy that Judith brought around Presley. What did Judith say?”
“She said she had my approval, and I had so much on my mind.”
He hums, knowingly.
“I could’ve forgotten, but I have a hard time believing that. Her telling me what she ate for dinner, I would’ve forgotten. Her meeting with a man and taking my kid? Highly unlikely.”
“Okay,” he says, thinking out loud.
Before he continues his train of thought, I’m already shoving my feet into a pair of shoes.
“Where are you going?” Gracyn says, jumping off the bed after me.
“Brooks, don’t go over there,” Aiden warns.
As if you can stop me . “I need to find out who Tom is.”
“I’m on my way,” I hear him say right before I hang up.
I dig through the junk drawer, searching for Judith’s spare key. If it weren’t for the bright orange tag attached to it, I might’ve been taking ten keys to try.
Gracyn meets me at the door with her shoes on. We descend the one flight of stairs without a word.
When I reach the door, I knock twice, but there’s no answer. Nothing . I pound harder, but still nothing. I slide the key into the doorknob and draw in a harsh breath, afraid that the one person I trusted the most with my daughter betrayed me.
Betrayed us.
Presley loved her.
“Please let me be wrong,” I murmur to myself. The door clicks open with a quiet turn of the key. The room is pitch black and quiet. “Judith?” I call out and then listen.
Silence.
The faint glow from the hallway spills into the apartment, just enough for me to search for the switch. I’ve only been inside her apartment a handful of times. The room lights up, and the scene stops me cold.
Presley’s toys are neatly stacked in the corner. Pictures painted by Presley line the walls. I blink back the tears threatening to fall. I never let Presley hang her pictures in the living room. Her artwork stayed confined to the fridge, her room, or tucked away in drawers, hidden in a way I told myself was acceptable.
A knot of guilt tightens in my stomach seeing the artwork displayed with pride. My finger outlines a stick figure on one of the papers. I sniff. “This is ridiculous,” I mutter, more angry with myself. “This woman”—I throw my arms out, gesturing to the room—“would never harm my daughter.”
Gracyn walks back to Judith’s bedroom, flips the light on, and disappears into the room. I hate that I’m here. Questioning things. I fall back on the couch. She can look, but I’m done.
“Brooks,” she calls out. “You’ll want to come see this.”
I push off the couch and rush to the room to find Gracyn staring into an empty closet.
“All her clothes are gone,” she whispers.
Maybe she likes to fold everything. I pull out every drawer, only to find it the same—empty. My worst fear becomes reality. “Where is she? We talked fifteen minutes ago!” I scream, panic choking me.
A chill wraps around my spine, paralyzing me with the horror of it all. Has she had my daughter this whole time? Sat in my living room, acting like she was living in the same hell I was? She might have been in hell, but she was on her fucking throne, enjoying the show. I look to Gracyn for answers she can’t give me. She didn’t hire her. She doesn’t even know her.
“What did I do?” I stare at the walls, lost. My mistakes, my choices, all pile up so high I can barely see over them. I don’t trust myself anymore. I collapse onto the bed, my head hangs low as tears sting my eyes. I pinch them together. “How is she going to get through this?” The words strangle me as they escape. “Is she frightened? Is she crying for me? Will she hate me for not protecting her?” All my fears tumble out. The strength I was holding onto as a lifesaver crumbles to my feet in a pile of rubble. I brought her into our world.
This is all my fault.
Gracyn drops to her knees in front of me. “Brooks, that little girl could never hate you. You’re her everything.”
“I broke my promise. I told her I’d never let the monsters get her.” I’m the worst dad ever. “I’m no hero. Because I’m the one who let the monsters in.”