32. Claire

32

CLAIRE

Hours ticked by as I waited yet again. Only this time, I had the pressing knowledge that when that call did come in, not only would I be possibly putting Isabelle in danger, but when it was over, Michael would be leaving me. I wasn't ready for that.

I paced my living room, biting my nails as anxiety swarmed my stomach. I felt like I would throw up and pass out all at the same time. I glanced out the window and saw Michael talking with Johnny. He told me they were the best, but that didn't make me feel any better. The risks were too high on this job. If I lost Isabelle, how could I possibly go on? As terrible as it sounded, she'd been lost to me for years. But Michael…he was still here. A future with him was a possibility.

I knew the thoughts running through my mind were terrible. Isabelle was my daughter. I should be doing everything possible to get her back. Yet, I couldn't stand the thought of never seeing Michael again.

The door opened and I spun around, watching as Michael walked through the door. I knew he wouldn't have any news, but I hoped there would be something. He shook his head slightly, then came over to me, wrapping me in his arms. The anxiety eased slightly, but not enough. Until this was over, I would never be the same again.

"It's later than usual. Maybe she won't call today."

I heard a slight chuckle in his voice as he pulled me into his arms and slid his hands up and down my back in a soothing gesture. "Is that hope I hear in your voice?"

"Maybe."

"Claire, either way, we're going through with the plan. It doesn't matter what day it happens."

I knew that, but I didn't have to like it. I closed my eyes, resting my head against his chest. Slowly, the worst of the anxiety fled as he held me in his arms. I could stay like this forever, just the two of us.

"When this is over, I'll take you somewhere. We'll get away and just be together."

I knew that was a lie. He was telling me that to distract me, but I decided to go along with it and dream of a different life. "Yeah? Where will you take me?"

"Hmm, Montana."

I snorted against his chest. "To the frozen tundra? No, thank you."

"It's beautiful there."

"I know. I've been before, but when it was warmer."

"So, I'll take you when it's warmer."

I tilted my head up to look at him. "Or you could take me to the beach."

"Everyone goes to the beach. Why would you want to go there?"

"There's a reason everyone loves the beach. It's beautiful and relaxing."

"It's full of sand flies and heat."

"There's sun and warmth."

"And fish that want to eat you."

I burst out laughing. "Name one fish that wants to eat you."

"All of them. Jellyfish."

"They sting you."

"And that's better?"

I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. "You're a man. Aren't you supposed to be more…manly?"

"Hey, there is nothing unmanly about not wanting to go in the ocean."

"Aside from the fact that it's absolutely ridiculous."

"Tell that to the people who get eaten by sharks. Oh wait, you can't because they're dead."

I laughed and snuggled back into his chest, but the moment of daydreaming was shattered by the shrill ringing of my phone. I held Michael tighter, not wanting to answer it, but he grabbed my arms and gently pulled me off him.

"Answer it."

I swallowed hard, desperate to hang onto this moment a little longer. He nodded at me, urging me to get the phone. Finally, I stepped away from him and picked it up. Isabelle's name flashed across the screen, but instead of the usual excitement, only dread filled the pit of my stomach.

As I slid my finger across the phone, I tried to think of something I could say, anything to warn her or let her know that I was about to tell her something that could change everything. Sweat coated my brow and my heart raced. I really was going to throw up.

"Do it."

I looked up at Michael and tears filled my eyes. I answered the call and placed the phone to my ear. "Isabelle," I croaked out.

"Hey! How are you?"

"Good. Good."

"Are you sure? You don't sound okay."

"I am…" I slid my hand over the back of my neck, trying to gain some composure. "I'm fine. Just tired. I think maybe someone at the shelter gave me something."

"How are all the animals?"

My eyes slid closed. The conversation was coming around way too fast. I didn't know how she was or what she was doing. I started to panic. What if this was the last time I spoke to her?

"Are you okay? Is—is everything okay?"

"I'm good, Mom."

"What's new?"

"Um…not much."

"Still enjoying the weather? How's the island?"

I winced as soon as the words left my mouth. I was forbidden from speaking about the island. It was one of the rules, which I only found out about after the last time I said something. That was years ago, and I didn't speak to her for a month after while she was recovering from whatever the hell that monster did to her.

"Momma," she hissed.

"I'm so sorry," I said quickly, my eyes filling with tears. I pressed a hand to my stomach. Oh God, what had I just done?

Michael gently grabbed my arm, looking at me in concern. He knew something was wrong, but not what exactly. Spots danced in front of my eyes as I swayed on my feet. Instead of sending her a message, I'd probably just hurt her.

Pull it together, Michael mouthed.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes. I had to do this for Isabelle. No matter what happened with Michael, he wanted this for her. I had to do my best. We couldn't wait another month.

"The shelter is really busy right now. Uh…"

I closed my eyes again. I could barely think. Michael slid his hand around my neck and pulled me closer, pressing his lips to my cheek.

"You've got this," he whispered in my other ear.

I nodded and focused on the conversation. "You know, a dog came into the shelter this week. He reminded me of our dog Max."

There was a pause and then she made a noncommittal sound. "Oh yeah?"

"I started thinking of when you were maybe ten and you were almost attacked by that dog, but Max came to the rescue. Do you remember that?"

"I still have the scar on my neck."

"Anyway, I hope he gets adopted. He was such a good boy. I could tell instantly that he was a protector."

There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment and then she came back on. "I have to go." Her voice quivered slightly. "I love you, Momma."

"I love you, too. Have fun and remember your sunscreen."

The line went dead a second later and I crumpled over, gripping my stomach as vomit shot up my throat and spewed all over the floor. Michael was there in an instant, rubbing my back as he tried to console me. He had no idea what I had just done. I started crying uncontrollably, unable to catch my breath as fire burned in my chest.

"Tell me what's wrong," I heard Michael saying over and over again.

Tears tracked down my cheeks and I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the memories away. Whenever there was the slightest misstep, Zavala made someone pay. I prayed he wouldn't take it out on her.

"Have mercy on her," I cried. "Please, have mercy on her!"

"Claire!" Michael shouted, jerking me upright.

A hard slap landed across my face and the tears instantly stopped. Michael stared at me with shame and regret, then slid his hand across my cheek.

"I'm so fucking sorry."

I felt a single tear slip from my eye as he pulled me into his arms. Then the floodgates opened and I gripped his shirt, sobbing against his chest. I felt his large hand rubbing my back as he tried desperately to calm me. I could feel the weighted stares of others in the room. I didn't know when they got there or how much they had seen, but I couldn't care. Regret was the only thing I felt.

"I made a mistake," I whispered. "I spoke of the island."

He looked at me in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The last time I said anything about the island…he hurt her. It was over a month before I spoke to her again."

His jaw clenched in anger. His hands cupped my cheeks as he stared at me fiercely. "We'll get her back, Claire. He'll never hurt her again."

"You don't know that."

"I swear to you?—"

"Don't make promises you can't keep. We've been here before and failed."

"Not this time."

I knew he wanted to believe that, but the odds were stacked against us. Even with Rafe on the island, what were the chances we could go up against a man like Zavala and win?

"We passed the message along. We need to get moving."

"What if she tries to call back?"

"Has she ever?"

I shook my head slowly. "No."

"Then we need to leave."

"But—"

"We don't have a choice. I told you I won't risk your life." He turned to Jack. "We leave within the hour."

I stared at the phone, hoping it would ring again, but knowing it wouldn't. From here on out, there would be no communication with Isabelle.