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Chapter 29
Poison
When a soul cries
Ihave never seen aman cry before. Now I have. And it was the most uncomfortable thing to witness. How the hell do you console a grown man that releases pain from his dying heart because his daughter is, in fact, dead? Maybe it was a bad idea to take him, but I needed to hold up my end of the bargain. I did that, but for him, it's still a painful reminder that he’ll never see his precious little girl.
However, if I didn't go, I wouldn't have stopped the ongoing atrocities that were taking place there. We didn't save his daughter, but we saved countless others.
Jax gathers his bag, throwing the strap over his shoulder with his eyes tilted to the ground. My thumb rubs the leather of the wheel as I look over to him, grabbing his last bit of item. “I’m sorry about your daughter.”
He grabs the bag handle tighter than he should. “It's ok. I mourned her a long time ago. I just kept wishful thinking.” He keeps a tough face, his teeth grinding against each other to control his sporadic rage and emotions.
It’s terrible, and I can’t relate tothatfeeling, but no one should lose a child. I don’t push it because there’s nothing I can say to help him cope. I only nod slowly, turning my head back to the pathway through the woods.
He backs away to close the door, preparing to head back to that stuffy cabin that he finds solace in, but that’s no way to grieve for him. Especially alone. Shit, he may put a gun to his head and call it quits.
I bite down on my teeth, my thumb tapping on the wheel, the words at the tip of my tongue until I force them out.
“You don’t have to go through this alone.” I roll my shoulder and neck to release the tension. Okay, that wasn’t too bad.
He stops midway, his fingers flexing on the door frame. He still doesn’t look at me.
“I’ll be good. I’ve been on my own for three years now. I don't need your shitty pity.”
I’ll never let anyone talk to me like that, but he’s going through a tough time, so I understand. “You’ll never receive that from me.”
He finally lifts his bloodshot eyes up to me. “Then why? You don't trust me.”
“You think if I didn’t trust you, I would offer to show you my compound and have you stay there? Many don’t get that privilege.” I face the trees again.
The shit we saw with the Santori is nothing more than disgusting; it sends my stomach bile into my throat and frustration builds knowing that people could hold kids captive and do inhumane acts to them. Extracting and getting them back to the States was the best luck we could’ve had. I’m sure any longer than that, the opportunity would’ve been missed. “I’ve saw you in the field, the way you handled the mission. It wouldn’t be so bad having someone like you on my team. There are many more places like what we saw with the Santori. You can make a difference. It’s only up to you to choose a different path. You can sit in this,” I wave at the home behind him, “and rot away, or you can help other kids live. The chance your daughter didn’t get to have. It’s your choice, but I won’t beg. It’s entirely up to you.” Despite not finding his daughter, he listened to orders well and helped those kids even when he didn't have to.
He releases a jagged breath, the vapor smoke floating into the atmosphere, like he’s on the verge of breaking down to the ground from the offer. But he held his own.
He nods, his eyes glistening. “I’ll think about it.” That’s all he manages to say.
“I get it.” To say I'm disappointed would be a lie; however, he needs more than to wither away like an old grape on a vine. But I don’t press. He backs away, closing the door behind him.
I release a small sigh, stepping on the gas and driving off. The moment floating away like it never happened because my thoughts shifted to Anita. I’ve missed the fuck out of her. It’s been two long ass, miserable days, and laying in a hotel bed that hurt my back was revolting. Now that I know what it’s like to lay with someone who brings the darkest of nights to peace and quiet, I don’t crave anything else but that.
I want her presence—always.