Love Always, Damian

by D. Nichole King

After a long day at the hospital, Lia’s dragging behind me. Olivia was there today, and the girls played all morning.

  To add to her exhaustion, Lia woke up last night with another nightmare, the same sort of thing as before except in this one, Ellie never came back from Australia. And like last time, I let her sleep in my bed.

  I sift through the dresses and find a pretty off-the-shoulder blue one with sparkly stuff. Girls like that, right? I turn around to show Lia. She’s sitting on the floor, moving her legs like she’s making half a snow angel.

  “Get up,” I say.

  “But I’m sooooooo tired,” she whines. Then she freaking lies down.

  I pick her up. “Off the floor, Lia.”

  She lands on her feet and hunches over. “My legs hurt.”

  I scan the store and find an armchair not far from us where I still have the perfect view of her. It’s better than the damn floor. I carry her over and she slumps into the seat.

  “Do you like this one?” I ask, holding up the blue dress.

  “I don’t like blue.”

  In the short time we’ve been together, I’ve learned two things about my daughter. Number one: she’s cranky when she’s tired, like Ellie warned me about. Number two: hell hath no fury like a sassy three-year-old when she’s dissatisfied.

  “What color do you want then?”

  “Pink,” she states.

  “That’s it? Only a pink one?”

  “Yep.”

  I shoot a glance over my shoulder and do a quick inventory. “I don’t see any pink ones. How about one with pink on it?” I ask, even though I’m not seeing any that meet that criteria either.

  “All pink!”

  I hate shopping.

  “Okay, stay right here. Don’t move. I’ll see what I can find.”

  I go back over to the dresses, checking behind me to where Lia sits. She has her head on the arm of the chair, watching everyone in the mall pass by the store.

  My plan is to gather a couple of options, let her pick one, and get the hell out of here. I’ll have to braid her hair again too it looks like.

  I plow through the racks, yanking off anything with any amount of pink on it. Lia’s on her stomach now. Her feet are crossed at the ankles, dirty flip-flops sticking up as she people-watches.

  Shit. She’s gonna need shoes too.

  I’m about to give up, say “screw this,” and buy the blue one when, hanging up on a hook above my head, I spot a row of dresses covered in silver roses. In the very back, there’s one with a pink bow.

  The perfect dress for my little princess.

  I’m fucking excited over a dress. How is this my life?

  I drop the few I have in my arms so I can figure out how to reach the one I want. Thankfully, a saleslady walks by.

  “Ma’am, I’d like that dress up there,” I say, pointing.

  “Sure.” She grabs a hook on a pole leaning against the wall. Extends it upward. “Pink or white?”

  “Pink. Size, uh, four,” I tell her, remembering what Ellie told me weeks ago.

  Balancing the hanger on the hook, the lady brings it down. “There you go. Can I get you anything else?”

  “This is good. Thanks,” I say.

  I shove the reject dresses on a random rack, then twist to show Lia. But the chair is empty.

  She’s not there.

  I walk forward, thinking she’s out of my line of sight. The area in front of me widens, and I can see all the way from the store entrance to the cashier at the back. People are everywhere.

  Just not the one I care about.

  “Lia?” I say, searching the armchair for any sign of her.

  There’s nothing. Nothing.

  Panic is rising in my chest. Pulsing through my veins. Within seconds, it’s shaking me to the core.

  “Lia?”

  I drop the dress and run to the store entrance that leads into the mall. Shoppers crowd the hallways for Independence Day sales. My eyes dart around. Left. Right. Left. Right.

  I don’t see her anywhere. “Lia. Lia.”

  I don’t know what to do next. I’m frozen in place, waiting for something to come to me or for something to happen—for Lia to grab a hold of my leg and say, “Here I am, Daddy!”

  Nothing.

  Everything speeds up. Patrons walk faster, some bumping into me as they pass. But I stay rooted.

  I lost my daughter. I fucked up again. I fucking fucked up!

  My mouth is dry. Precious minutes tick by before I come to my senses. And when I do, I’m a fucking tornado. I spin around and run back into the store. There has to be security cameras somewhere. She can’t have gotten far.

  There’s one woman in line at the cash register. I shove her aside.

  “Hey!” she yelps.

  “My daughter is missing,” I spill to the worker, ignoring the other lady. “I need to see your surveillance.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, we can’t allow you that information, but I can call the police.”

  “Then what the fuck are you waiting for?”

  As she picks up the phone, I scour the store again. I can’t sit here doing nothing while my little girl is God knows where. How did this happen? One minute she was there; the next she was gone. I looked away for a second!

  Ellie. Oh, God. What am I going to tell Ellie? I can’t think straight.

  A pair of little flip-flops sticking out of the dressing room catches my attention, and I freaking fly. Rip back the curtain.

  “AHHHHH!” the half-dressed girl who isn’t Lia shrieks.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” the woman I assume is the girl’s mother screams, hitting me.

  “Sorry. I thought…” I back away, but I don’t know where I’m going.

  “Sir?”

  A mall security guard is in front of me now. He’s a black, burly guy who looks like he means business.

  I point to the dressing room. “I didn’t know. I thought my daughter was in there.”

  “Sir, please, I understand. We have the mall on lockdown. No one in or out until we find your daughter, but I need to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?”

  It takes a moment to realize he’s not busting me for the dressing room incident. He’s here about Lia.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  I follow him to the front of the store, where two police officers wait for me. They have notepads, ready to take my statement.

  I’ve calmed down. Reality has sunk in, and I’m helpless. So fucking helpless.

  I had one job: protect my own flesh and blood.

  “Uh, Damian Lowell,” I answer the first question. “Her name is Lia. Lia Kathryn Van Zee.”

  “Do you have a recent photograph?” one of them asks.

  I pull out my wallet and give them the only picture I have. The one that fell out of Ellie’s purse the day she told me about Lia.

  “How old is she?” the other officer asks.

  “Three and a half.”

  “And where was the last place you saw her?”

  I point to the armchair. “She was sitting right there, then I turned around and she was gone.”

  “About how long ago was this?”

  “I don’t—I don’t know,” I answer. “Maybe twenty minutes?”

  “We’re going to find her, okay?” the female officer assures me.

  An hour later, the mall opens back up and no one knows where Lia is. I called Dad half an hour ago, and he’s on his way. My mistakes of the night are stacking high, so I’m glad he’ll be here soon.

  But I haven’t called Ellie. I can’t bring myself to make that phone call. Not yet, not until I know something solid.

  The female officer—Officer Kane—strides up to me. “Come with me, please. We think we may have found your daughter in the parking lot surveillance.”

  Relief and panic slam into me. The parking lot?

  The small security office is crowded, but everyone’s focus is on the one screen. Pointing, Officer Kane shows me the tiny i
mage of a little girl, barely in the shot. She’s holding someone’s hand.

  The girl is clearly Lia.

  “Who’s she with?” I ask. “Is there anything else?”

  “No, it seems they cut through here and started for the street. We’re checking traffic cameras in the area now.”

  A replay shows Lia’s not scared. In fact, she’s smiling.

  “Is there anyone she’d willingly go with? Anyone at all?” Officer Kane asks.

  Only three people come to mind, and none of them seem plausible. Dylan, Ellie’s mom, and my dad.

  I shake my head. “No, no one.”

  “Most kidnappings happen with people the child knows and is comfortable with. Are you sure?”

  “The only family she has in town is my dad and her other grandparents, but due to illness, they rarely leave the house.”

  “How about friends? Anyone who may want to hurt you?”

  I think back to Toby Stanton and our brawl. He saw Lia with me. Would he go so far as to kidnap a child all because I fingered his girl?

  “There’s a guy I go to school with. Toby Stanton. We got into it a few weeks back. Lia was there.”

  “Do you have an address?”

  “He lives off campus up in Ames, but I don’t think Lia would go with him.”

  She writes down the information anyway. “Anyone else?”

  “No, no that’s all.”

  “We’re going to look into this guy. There’s nothing else we can do here, so why don’t you come down to the police station.”

  “Can we issue an Amber Alert or something?”

  “Not until we have sufficient cause to think she is at risk of being injured. Don’t worry, the majority of child abductions end in the safe return of the child. I have no reason to believe this won’t be the case with your daughter. We are doing everything we can to find her.”

  “Thank you,” I say, but I don’t hear myself.

  Out in the main mall, Dad rushes toward me. He says a bunch of shit that sounds like he’s talking underwater. I barely hear him, because right now, I’m drowning. In fear. In pain. In guilt.

  I should have never let her sit there, so far away from me. Should have gone with one of the other dresses. Should have fucking let her lie on the goddamn floor!

  I’m outside, getting into Dad’s car, but I don’t remember walking out here. I pull out my phone. The screen lights up with Lia’s chocolate mustache face.

  I failed her.

  Just like I failed Mom. And Liam. And Kate…and Ellie.

  I thumb through my contacts until I find her name. I don’t want to call because I don’t want to disappoint her. I don’t want to prove to her that she was right about me—that I can’t do this.

  Still, she deserves to know.

  I swipe a finger over the screen, put the phone up to my ear, and hold my breath.

  Chapter 20

  Ellie

  I can’t suck in air. I’m suffocating.

  My heart is pounding so fast, and I barely feel my legs give way.

  I’m falling.

  Strong arms circle around me from behind, guiding me gently down. They don’t let go.

  I sit on the floor, clutching onto the phone. Damian’s explaining, explaining, but I don’t give a fuck about his explanation.

  He lost Lia. He lost my daughter!

  I’m hyperventilating. Blake gathers me to him. Even though his lips are moving, I don’t hear anything coming out of them.

  All I hear is Damian’s bullshit.

  When I saw the number belonged to him, my heart skipped three beats. Oh, how I longed to hear his voice.

  I should have known better. I should have known that after avoiding me these last weeks, the only reason he’d call would be because he royally fucked up.

  I don’t want to hear anything else from him. I’m done listening. “I’m booking a flight immediately,” I say and hang up.

  “Elizabeth?” Blake holds me closer.

  “No,” I say. “Stop. I have to—”

  I Google the phone number to the airport. Call it and buy the first available flight out of Cairns. Now, I have less than three hours to get back to shore.

  Without a word to Blake, I unhook his arms from around me. Jump to my feet and dart up to the top deck. The lead researcher is also a mother, so I hope to God she’ll understand and turn this boat around. If not, I have no problems diving overboard and swimming back to shore.

  “Hannah,” I say when I reach the top deck. “I have an emergency situation, and I need to get back to Cairns immediately.”

  Her eyebrows perk up. If what’s inside me shows on the outside, in front of her, she sees a desperate woman. One on the verge of breaking down and going on a rampage.

  Neither will help, so I hold myself in check.

  Hannah nods, jumps up, and dashes past me to do what I asked. I stay put because I assume she’ll have questions.

  Blake’s on the top deck now too. He comes toward me, arms outstretched. I know I’ll crumble if I accept his embrace, but seeing him standing there, his brow furrowed, I realize he wants comfort from me as much as he wants to comfort me.

  Blake was at the hospital the day Lia was born. In fact, he’s who I called when my water broke. It was his hand I squeezed through the contractions. His ears that listened to every scream and shout of profanity that flew out of my mouth.

  And it was Blake’s arms that held her after mine.

  On Lia’s first birthday, Blake shot all the pictures, edited them, and created the collage that hangs in the living room. Blake who was there to witness her first steps, her first words, her first trip to the ER for two stitches on her forehead.

  Blake loves her as much as I do.

  I press myself into him, and he cocoons me in his arms. His cheek lies against my head. The first tear I’ll cry over this whole situation falls from my eye, slides down my face, and absorbs into Blake’s t-shirt.

  That one is followed by the next. And the next until I can’t hold myself together anymore.

  Together, Blake and I shift as the boat does a U-turn. We cling to each other, needing one another like we never have before. Both of us are living a nightmare we’re helpless to control.

  It’s the worst feeling in the world to realize the depths of how powerless we really are. How a moment, a tiny instant, can completely shatter us to an unrecognizable heap of who we once were.

  This is not my first time.

  I’m empty. So empty.

  I don’t remember sitting on the bench. Or letting go of Blake to give Hannah the minimal details I know.

  “If there’s anything I can do, Elizabeth, please don’t hesitate,” Hannah says, patting my hand.

  Ten minutes offshore, tears fill my eyes again. I’ve received nothing from Damian in phone call or text. I don’t have the slightest clue how these situations are handled, but what I do know is that I don’t trust Damian to handle them. I need to be there.

  I need time to stop.

  “I’ll take you to the airport,” Blake says as we pull up to the dock. “I’ll buy a ticket, pack your bags, and be right behind you.”

  “No.” The word is off my tongue lightning fast. At first, I’m not sure why I don’t want him with me. I’m traveling back to Iowa—to Damian—and I could use the support.

  But…

  “No,” I repeat, less stern than before. “Thank you for the offer, Blake, but you should finish this study. I need some time alone to think about things. I swear, I’ll call and update you as often as I can. I just…I need time.”

  He understands I’m talking about us. After I get my Lia-Kat back—and I will get her back—we’ll go home to Florida where I can sort out all this crap clogging my head.

  Blake frowns, and it’s clear I’ve hurt him. But I can’t think about that right now.

  I dig in my purse and hand him my apartment key. “Here. If you want to bring my stuff when you’re done, that’s fine. If not, I don’t care abo
ut any of it.”

  Because my heart and soul is somewhere in Iowa, lost to me.

  At the airport, Blake pulls into the drop-off lane. He parks the car, then peers over at me.

  “If you hear anything—”

  “I’ll call you right away,” I finish.

  He nods, the muscles in his jaw clenching. “If you change your mind, Elizabeth, I’ll be there.”

  “I know, Blake. Thank you.”

  I reach for the door at the same time his hand grabs mine. I glance back at him. Vulnerability coats his gaze and strikes me in the chest. He holds his stare a moment, his lips parting in a breath. The words “I love you” are probably on the tip of his tongue, but he holds them back.

  “Have a safe trip,” he finally says.

  “I will. See you in two weeks.”

  I slip away from him, open the door, and walk into the airport without looking back.

  ~*~

  Damian

  I sip on shitty police station coffee.

  Dad and I have been here for three hours. Traffic cams couldn’t get a facial recognition on Lia’s abductor, but we know she’s a woman. An older woman.

  Officer Kane keeps telling me it’s highly unlikely that Lia’s in danger. Female abductors tend to be motherly-types, not sexual predators.

  But I don’t feel any better.

  Some strange old woman will probably be able to take better care of my daughter than I ever could. Feed her macaroni and cheese with cut up hot dogs and give her a cookie afterwards. Know how to braid her hair without the help of YouTube. Not run out on her to get drunk and laid when the shit hits the fan. She’d take her to the mall and not take an eye off her for even a fraction of a second.

  I finish off my coffee and wander over to the counter to pour another cup. I don’t want any more, but drinking it passes the time. What I really want is a bottle of rum. Or whiskey. Or straight-up moonshine.

  More than that though, I want my Lia back.

  God, she must be terrified by now. Plus, she doesn’t have her ponies or the book we read from every night. What if she has a nightmare?

  Hands on the counter, I lean over. The sound of the clock ticking off minutes pounds in my ears like the subs in my car. They vibrate through me, each one reminding me I’m running out of time.