Chapter 17
Ashia
Four Days Later
‘I Miss You, I’m Sorry’ – Gracie Abrams
I draw in a gasp as I awaken, immediately on guard.
My body is still tingly like it has been for almost five days now, and the nausea is back, even though I know it’s not from the morning sickness.
Ever since he went missing, I haven’t been able to stay at the house.
It feels so empty, dark, and lifeless, like I don’t even recognize it anymore.
Everywhere I look, all I see is him and what we’re supposed to have.
The first two days were a blur. I didn’t sleep at all, and Zeke practically had to shove food down my throat.
It’s supposed to be the other way around.
I’m supposed to be taking care of him, and yet I can’t even take care of myself.
I’m trying. I really am. As much as it hurts to even breathe, our baby needs me, too.
It’s just so hard. I can’t function without him.
In the blink of an eye, seconds turned into hours, and hours morphed into days.
Every moment without him feels like a curse.
I’ve refused to wear any other shirt besides his, and now that I’ve worn this one for three days, I know Zeke will make me change into a different one soon.
Tears fill my eyes once again, because that just means there’s another piece of him that won’t smell like him anymore.
Every physical trace of him is fading too quickly, and I find myself scrounging around for more hits like an addict.
The amount of his clothes left at home are dwindling, and I know I won’t be able to get my fix for more than probably another month—even if I stretch it.
Daisy whines on the floor beside me, and I reach down to pet her in a sad attempt to soothe her.
Darnell never called her off. He said that she should stay with me, and that she would help me like she does him.
I hate that I took her away from him, though.
This sweet dog has been my anchor for the past few days, and I’m not sure if I would even be able to walk without her.
I force myself to sit up, and she does at the same time as I do, like she’s wary of my every move.
My heart sinks as I look around his office, and even though I know he won’t, I still expect him to walk through the door.
The picture of us from the Dust party sits on top of the desk, and it feels like it was so long ago now.
I yearn to hear his voice. I’ve left dozens of voicemails, hoping on nothing but a prayer that he can hear them.
That, and just to listen to him speak. Now when I call, the voicemail box is full, and I can’t leave him any more.
So, I mostly call just to hear the same seven words over and over again.
Satori is still pushing the possibility of him leaving on his own, and I just can’t bear the thought of it.
I know deep down that he would never leave me.
He would never let me go. But then there’s the voices.
The words that used to haunt my thoughts came crawling back the moment Satori spoke the possibility into existence.
He left work earlier than he was supposed to.
His access was used to cut off his own location.
His phone is off.
His clothes are gone.
Him. Him. Him. Him.
The ghosts whisper in my head. Repeatedly. Just like they used to. The old thoughts come hurling back at me like an assault.
He’s done with me.
He got tired of me.
I was too much and not enough, all at the same time.
I feel like my mind is being split in two, because I don’t feel that way in my heart. I know how much he loves me. It’s made its way into my soul. His endearment left a permanent mark, but it doesn’t throw out the truth.
This is all my fault.
If he left, then it was to protect me—to protect us.
The little flutter in my belly reminds me of that, and I wrap my arm around it to try and savor the feeling.
A sob threatens to bubble its way out, but I swallow it back down and look away from the desk.
I’ll be able to feel the baby move over my skin soon.
At least, that’s what that damn app says.
I downloaded it yesterday, because I wanted to know the same things Damien does.
As annoying as his weekly food prep was, I’d give anything for him to force an avocado into our meals again.
Well, an orange in a couple of days—but I can’t even think about eating it.
What if he misses them kicking the first time?
What am I going to do when it’s time for another appointment?
I haven’t gone to a single one without him.
He’s heard their heartbeat almost every time I have, and he’s been bound and determined not to miss a thing.
I don’t want to experience those things without him, but the fluttering only reminds me that time doesn’t stop for anyone.
Leanne and Ser are curled up in the chairs next to me, sound asleep.
The seven of us have barely left each other’s sides.
Zeke and Ser especially have been here this entire time, but the others are always lurking close by.
Carter is always on his laptop trying to find anything he can.
We’ve checked traffic cameras and security footage of all the available downtown businesses multiple times.
I haven’t used any of our money in case someone uses it, and by ‘someone,’ I know Carter was implying Damien.
It really upset me when he said that, but I know he has to.
If anyone else is as loyal to Damien as I am, it’s Carter, Zeke, and Alex.
He would never believe that Damien did this with his own free will.
The thought of otherwise is just sickening, but it’s hard to ignore with the evidence in front of us.
Loud voices from the conference room grab my attention, and I use whatever energy I have to stand up.
Daisy stands up at the same time, and she remains glued to my side as I walk towards the door.
I hesitate with my hand on the knob for only a second, then open it quickly enough for Daisy and I to slip through before shutting it back—not wanting to wake the others up.
“What's going on?” I ask as I step into the conference room. Arguing has become an expected thing the past few days, but I’m shocked to see that Carter is the one losing his cool this time.
He’s staring at Satori in a way that I’ve never seen from him before.
His pupils are sharp, and his grimace almost looks deadly. Carter is normally the sane one.
It's different now, though. Carter has slept just as little as I have, and he hasn’t bothered to shave, or even really shower.
He’s constantly working to keep things afloat, all while looking for Damien at the same time.
Zeke and Alex don’t look much better. John is…
a mess, to say the least. If he had hair on his head, I’m sure it would stand on end, and his dark circles and wrinkles are more prominent than ever.
Even Kade looks a little worse for wear, and of course, the only one standing among the rest of us like a pretentious asshole is Satori.
He doesn’t look affected by this at all, and the sight disgusts me.
“Nothing, Ash. It’s not a big deal. I didn’t mean to wake you,” Carter says angrily and hatefully, but I know it’s not directed at me. There’s an edge to his words that’s completely out of character for him, and he’s saying it all while he continues to stare at Satori.
“It’s a pretty big deal. If she’s so involved, she should hear what I have to say.” Satori crosses his arms like his stance is unwavering.
“Your whining is not big enough to concern her!” Alex yells and points at me.
“Okay, settle down. What are you guys arguing about?” I ask again and step further into the room. Daisy stays by my side as I walk up to Damien’s chair.
“He’s pissing and moaning about his damn permissions again,” Zeke says dismissively, and throws his hand in Satori’s direction before he walks over to me.
“No, mother fucker! Someone else needs to have access to basic procedures! Especially if you three half-wits are so determined on continuing operations!”
“For the last time, Satori, contracts are not basic procedures!” Carter yells at him, and I rub my temple as I feel a headache coming on.
“What needs to be done?” I ask softly to try and keep everyone calm.
The last thing we need is for Leanne to wake up and start crying again.
Damien’s mom has been a wreck since he went missing.
She’s constantly either sleeping or crying.
Which, I can’t say I’ve done anything different, but as I lay my hand back on my belly, I understand that her pain is different than mine.
Carter turns to face me, and while the motion was quick and full of rage, the moment he locks eyes with me, he softens.
“Ash,” he warns timidly.
“Carter,” I say more definitively, and give him a much more serious look. He takes a deep breath, then pinches the bridge of his nose.