Chapter 27—Willow #2
“Perhaps.” His eyes narrow as he looks away for a moment before standing. “I’m sorry, Willow, but I need to cut this meeting short.”
“Oh.” I stand quickly, slightly upset that I never touched my coffee.
He always has the best coffee in this place, even with all the free food that’s recently become available in the office.
I half wonder if he makes it himself. “Of course. Just, um, call me later, and maybe we can get dinner or something.” The “something” being me and him in the bedroom. Or wherever else he wants to take me.
“Yes,” he says, but he’s completely distracted, and part of me worries for half a second before I shake it off.
Bobby is who he is for a reason. He’s smart and focused, and able to handle a lot.
If something needs to take his focus away from me for a bit, I’m not going to be some pouty girlfriend on the matter.
Besides, he has a great way of apologizing.
He goes to his desk and picks up his phone without even a kiss goodbye or a wave, and I push the hurt down. It’s a minor thing. He must have something giant on his mind right now, and I don’t want to take it away from him.
“Marco,” Bobby calls out the second I open the door, and I pass him as I exit and he walks into the office.
I give a brief smile to Alfonso, who pretends to ignore me, but I know he saw because his eyes roll just enough. Which makes me smile even more. Annoying him has become a secret pastime of mine. One I plan on never stopping.
I open the Diet Coke and grab the last chocolate-covered strawberry before heading to the couch. The house is so dead without the girls in it. I hate it so much. I want to go out, but Bobby hasn’t responded to any of my texts or calls. I even reached out to Marco, who just replied, Busy.
I shouldn’t worry about either of them, or the girls.
Everyone is fine. I have to believe that.
Just because I’m left alone in my place with my thoughts, thinking the worst of the worst, doesn’t mean anyone is hurt.
The girls are with their father, who, despite all his flaws, wouldn’t hurt them, as it makes him look bad.
Something he refuses to do. And Bobby has Marco to protect him from anything the other side of his life might try.
I have to believe all of that. But I still have a weird feeling in my stomach.
One that gets three times worse the moment my phone rings and I see Trevor’s name flash on the screen. Something’s wrong. I knew it. My stomach drops as I answer.
“Trevor? What’s wrong? Where are the girls? Are they okay?” He never calls. Something must be terribly wrong.
“They’re fine,” Trevor says, clearly annoyed that I didn’t let him speak first.
“Oh, thank God.” I can breathe for half a second before the next thought pops into my head. “Then why did you call?”
“I wanted to let you know that Jessica and I are moving.”
“Oh, okay.” Dare I hope that this means we won’t see him as much?
“To Texas.”
Joy bubbles to the surface for a millisecond. We might not even see him at all if he gives up on the holiday exchanges, because it would require him to deal with logistics, which I know he doesn’t like to do. “Oh, really? When?”
“Today.”
What? “Today? What about the girls?” I stand, ready to get my shoes on and go get my girls.
“They’re with us.”
His words stop me in my tracks, and my ears start ringing. “They’re where? In Texas?”
“Yes.”
One word and my heart stops.
“But… but you can’t do that. You can’t take them outside the state. The court—” I’m shaking as my heart races double time. Everything feels like too much all at once.
“Fuck what the court says. As their father, I can do whatever I want.”
His words just keep making the world shrink, everything closing in on me as I try to remember to breathe. “But they’re my girls too.”
He can’t be serious. He’s not that narcissistic to think that he’s above the law. Right?
I’m taking gulps of air to try and not black out at his words.
He lets out a deep sigh as if I’m not the rational one in this. “Then move to Texas. No one’s stopping you.”
“I can’t just move to Texas. I have a place here, a home.” I wave my arm around as if he can see my place through the phone.
“I thought the girls meant everything to you.”
My shoulders slip at the low blow. Low enough that my legs wobble as if they can’t hold my weight much longer. God, I hope they can’t hear me and think I’d choose a place over them.
“You know they do,” I say on a whisper as I realize all at once that panicking isn’t going to help them. It will only make things worse. Trevor will use my panic for what he wants. He always did before.
“Then fine, you can have them back.”
I feel like I have whiplash. Still, I give thanks where it’s due. “Thank you.”
“For five million dollars.”
“What?” My body slumps against the wall and my legs give out as I sink to the ground. I can’t breathe.
“You heard me. Get me five million and they’re yours.”
He’s selling me my own girls.
I feel sick. I close my eyes and try to calm my stomach long enough for me to keep him talking and not start vomiting at the sickness of all this.
“But I don’t have that kind of money.” My face feels wet. Tears I didn’t know I was shedding are running down my face. Somehow, my voice continues to be steady when I’m anything but.
“You sure about that?” There’s a pause on his end, and I fear what he might be thinking. Where does he think I can get that kind of money? “What about Leone Holdings?”
I’m shaking my head, not that he can see. “I might get a full-time paycheck, but I don’t get that much.” Does he really think I make that much?
“Who said I wanted your money?” The chill in his voice has my heart stopping for a second.
My body stills once more. “What are you saying?”
“You’re a financial analyst, right? Working on some project that looks into the company’s investments?”
“How did you know that?” I say it with more fear and shock than amazement. He never cared about what I did before. Or so I thought.
“Doesn’t matter. I know you can get me the money. So do it. Or don’t expect to see the girls unless you move this way and quit your job.”
“Trevor….” I can’t think of anything else to say but his name, in total disbelief that he’s asking this of me.
“You have until tomorrow at 8:00 a.m. to tell me what you plan to do. Oh, and Willow?”
“Yes?” My voice shakes as I swallow the sob about to break from me. What else could he possibly want?
“Don’t go thinking you can bring someone into this. Anything goes in a way I don’t want, I’ll make sure you never see the girls again.”
I’m on my knees, crawling to what, I don’t know. I grab the couch, begging him over the phone. “Please, no. You can’t. They’re your girls. Don’t do this, Trevor. Please.” True fear racks my soul. I never thought he could do something like this, but I obviously don’t know this man at all.
“And soon they will just be the offspring I had with you. My family, with Jessica, is what means something to me now. If you want your children back, do the right thing.”
Then he hangs up, and the full panic finally sets in. Tears run freely down my face as my heart breaks into a thousand pieces, sinking me back to the ground as I hold my phone close to my heart and pray I just imagined that all.
But no one laughs. I don’t wake up from the nightmare. Just the steady ticking of the clock on the wall and the reminder that I’m running out of time to get my girls.
And despite what Trevor said, I know I need to call someone. I can’t do this on my own. I can’t even get to Texas on my own. Forget the money to get a one-way ticket. My fear of flying leaves me almost paralyzed at the thought of getting on a plane.
I don’t think, I dial. When no one answers, I redial. Again and again, but Bobby doesn’t pick up. I try Marco, but it’s the same. No answer.
I look at my phone and call the only person I can think of who might answer.
And when they do, I barely hold back my sobs.
“Cynthia? He took them. He took my girls.”