Page 39 of Stains of Desire
Why did I never figure out how to get out?
I should have killed him and left.
I should have protected my daughter.
Who has her, and what are they doing to her?
Axel wraps his arms around me tight. I try to push out of his grasp, but he doesn't let me. He palms my head and holds it to his chest.
I wail as my body shakes.
"Shh. I've got you."
I choke on my tears, unable to control my pent-up emotions any longer.
My outburst lasts for what feels like hours. I can't stop the tears or the pain ripping through me.
Axel never lets me go. He holds me as close to him as possible, kissing my head, trying to soothe me.
I exhaust all my tears. He still doesn't release me. When I hear the rush of the water and caws of the birds, I slowly pull my head away.
The black in his eyes is darker than I've seen before. His face hardens. If I saw him and didn't believe he wouldn't harm me, I would be scared. "You need to tell me everything about what happened to your daughter."
I turn away. New anger unfolds. I lost control and it might put my daughter in additional danger if, for any reason, he isn't who he claims to be.
He slides his hand over my cheek. His thumb rests on the other side of my face. He forces me to look at him. He leans closer. "Whatever you're scared of right now, I'm not someone you need to fear."
I thought my tears were gone. But new ones drip over his fingers.
"Penelope, tell me," he sternly commands.
I can trust him.
I've been wrong before.
"Tell me."
"I... I don't know where to start."
He nods then kisses my forehead. "Tell me about your daughter."
I crack. Once I tell him one thing, it leads to another. I explain how Oliver died and why I took the job in Panama City. I tell him about how I let William sleep with me the first day I was there after I got mugged. As shameful as it is, I illustrate the last few years of my life before Santiago kidnapped me.
His eyes grow darker.
He's disgusted by me.
"I know I should've tried to kill him or something. Even if I went to jail, my daughter could have been with my family in England."
He holds my head firmly again. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"But I—"
"No," he growls. "This is not your fault."
I try to look away but I can't.
"Don't blame yourself. You did what you did to protect your daughter."
