15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

-Jared-

Despite her evident fatigue, Julia's curiosity remained undiminished. As I guided her through the house in search of a room for her to rest, she frequently paused to inspect her surroundings. Upon encountering Alison's portrait, she halted, her gaze fixed on it.

"Who painted this?" she inquired.

"I did," I confessed, joining her in admiring the image of Alison, regally seated like a queen upon her throne.

While I had crafted other portraits of her, some reminiscent of the Titanic film, those were reserved for our private enjoyment. This particular portrait held a distinct significance. It symbolized her watchful presence over our home, asserting her ownership with an air of authority. Julia seemed to sense this too, her expression betraying her intrigue as I observed her.

"Come, we have important matters to attend to tomorrow," I declared.

Julia nodded in agreement, trailing behind me as we ascended the stairs. The old house boasted numerous bedrooms, and I deliberated on where to accommodate her. Initially considering a room on the lower floor far away from mine, I soon discarded the idea. An idea struck me as to where she belonged. Leading her to the top floor, we made our way toward my former bedroom, where Vince had once assigned me.

As we traversed the hallway, adorned with an array of portraits, Julia's pace slowed as she examined each one. Despite my inclination to remove them over the years, Alison had vehemently opposed the idea, though her reasoning remained elusive to me. Nonetheless, Julia appeared equally captivated by the portraits, much like my wife.

"There's you," she remarked, gesturing toward one of them.

"Yes," I confirmed.

"And who are the others?"

"People from the local community, old acquaintances, some strangers, and... my father," I answered.

"Which one is he?" she probed further.

With a resigned sigh, I directed her attention to a portrait positioned higher up, prompting her to crane her neck and observe a younger version of Vince, back when both his eyes were functional.

"Where is he?" she inquired.

"He... is no longer with us," I replied somberly.

She turned to me, a mournful expression crossing her features.

"Was he like my father?" she asked softly.

"No," I clarified. "He cared for me deeply, even though I wasn't his biological son."

"You weren't his real son?" she echoed, seeking clarification.

"No. He adopted me. In fact, he saved my life."

"Where is your other father, then?" she pressed further.

"Also deceased," I responded bluntly.

"Was he good?"

"No," I admitted.

She nodded, appearing overwhelmed by the revelations. Sensing her need for a change of subject, I gestured for her to follow, leading her to my former room. Over the years, it had undergone transformation, now devoid of its original furnishings and adorned with new pieces, courtesy of Alison's influence. Despite the changes, stepping inside evoked memories.

Julia entered cautiously, surveying her surroundings with keen interest. While not configured for a child, resembling more of a guest room, she showed no signs of disappointment. Instead, her curiosity was piqued as she absorbed every detail. After completing her inspection, she approached the bed, using her small arms to hoist herself up and allowing her feet to dangle over the edge.

"A-Are you going to lock the door when you leave?" she asked hesitantly.

"Do you want me to?"

She shook her head, her gaze dropping to her hands.

"Then why should I?" I responded gently, reassuring her with my tone.

"It's always locked."

"Always?" I queried, taken aback.

"I'm only allowed out once a week," she confirmed.

"Of your room?"

"Yes," she affirmed.

"Jesus," I muttered under my breath.

"I'm not misbehaving. He says it's for my safety," she confided, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I never thought you were misbehaving," I reassured her, prompting her to cautiously raise her gaze to meet mine.

"Alison said it wasn't for my safety either."

"You shouldn't be confined indoors all the time," I remarked. "A house is meant for relaxation, but being locked away is no way to live."

"I don't know anything different," she admitted softly.

"I'm sure your grandparents will introduce you to a different way of living."

"What are they like?"

I hesitated, unsure of how to describe them.

"You'll get to know them soon enough," I assured her.

"When?"

"Tomorrow as well, after you've helped me," I clarified.

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the floor. Unsure of what else to say, I walked over to the door, my hand resting on the handle.

Glancing back at Julia, I posed a question, "Would you prefer the door open or closed?"

She shrugged in response.

"How about leaving it halfway?" I suggested.

She nodded, and as I began to depart, her voice halted me.

"Where do you sleep?" she inquired, still focused on her hands.

"At the other end, though sleep might elude me tonight," I admitted.

"Because you miss Alison?" she ventured.

"Yes," I affirmed. "So if you need me, I'll be in the office. It's just down the hall. You can't miss it. I'll keep the door open. Okay?"

Another nod from Julia, and I quietly made my way to the office. Taking a seat, I let out a deep sigh, shedding my jacket and hanging my gun holster over the side of the chair. Leaning forward, I covered my face with my hands.

"Damn it, I'm sorry, Alison," I whispered, grappling with the weight of leaving her behind. Yet, I had also made a promise to Dominic and his wife, and returning inside the house would have spelled disaster. Julia could have easily been caught in the crossfire, but the realization offered little solace. I had failed Alison. I had always chosen her, but now faced with a different decision, I faltered.

It brought to mind Vince's words, his assertion that he would always choose me, even to the point of killing for me. He hadn't anticipated caring for a child either. Despite my age, 18 at the time, I had never experienced paternal guidance until Vince stepped into that role. He raised and cared for me, yet my resolve had never wavered. How could I betray Alison now?

My nerves and racing thoughts overwhelmed me, prompting me to seek solace in a drink before resuming my seat. As I settled, my phone buzzed incessantly with notifications. I promptly informed Julia's family of my intention to bring her home tomorrow. Their dissatisfaction was obvious, but I remained resolute. Julia was my key to rescuing Alison. I doubted Louis would remain in the other house now that his territory had been seized. He was a coward, prone to fleeing, but his cowardice wouldn't deter me.

Lost in my thoughts of vengeance, I was startled by the creak of a floorboard. Turning, I found Julia standing nearby, her demeanor uncertain.

"Yes?" I prompted gently.

"I... can't sleep," she whispered, avoiding eye contact.

Sighing, I empathized with her plight, recalling my own nights of restless vigilance. Uncertain of how to comfort her, I scanned the room, seeking a solution. My gaze fell upon the couch behind her.

"How about trying to rest on the couch over there? I'll stay with you all night," I offered reassuringly.

Her eyes followed my gesture toward the couch. A blanket lay folded at its foot, a comforting sight. With a hint of relief, she made her way to the couch, wrapping herself in the blanket as she settled in. Despite her small frame being engulfed by the furniture, a faint smile tugged at my lips. I couldn't help but see a reflection of my own past struggles in her attempt to find solace.

Leaning back in my chair, I stared out into the dark night, a silent plea echoing in my mind for Alison's safety. Even if she returned to me shattered, as she had once before, I would do whatever it took to restore her happiness.

"Just hold on for me," I whispered.