Drowning to Breathe by A. L. Jackson Page B

headed away from the courthouse.
    Inside my purse, my phone rang.
    I dug through my bag and pulled it free.
    Nigel.
    “Hello?” I answered. There was still a tremor in my voice, unable to shake the worry that in the ten minutes since I’d last spoken with the attorney, something had gone amiss. That I’d misunderstood or misconstrued.
    That my mind had played the cruelest kind of trick.
    “You can pick up Kallie at 4:30.”
    I breathed out and glanced at the dashboard.
    Four o’clock.
    My chest fluttered.
    In only thirty minutes, Kallie would be in my arms.
    “Claribel Sanchez,” he continued with his instructions, “the case manager, will meet you at the house where Martin Jennings has been staying with Kallie to oversee the exchange.”
    I blanched.
    It sounded as if we were bartering goods.
    I swallowed down the residual bitterness. Even though I hated that was precisely what Martin had done—using an innocent child as a tool in a failed coup—I would only be thankful she was coming home.
    He rattled off the address and I scribbled it down so I could plug it into the navigation.
    “Got it,” I said.
    Of course, the monster had not only taken her from her home, but removed her from her hometown. Placed her in the midst of everything foreign more than thirty miles away.
    Every piece of me prayed she was truly okay.
    That she would recover and this trauma wouldn’t leave her with scars that would never heal.
    I bore enough of those for the both of us.
    My mind swam with questions.
    How had he treated her? Fed her? Cared for a child he didn’t even know? What lies had he fed her? How would I answer her thousands of warranted questions?
    A chill skittered down my spine.
    What would I do if I found out he’d harmed her?
    Nigel pushed out a relieved breath. The no-nonsense persona he typically wore veered into something warm. “Congratulations, Shea. I was confident this case would come out in your favor, but I can’t begin to describe the satisfaction I feel with getting your little girl back where she belongs. I know my job made a true difference today, and I want to thank you for placing your trust in me.”
    “Thank you for putting everything you had into it. I will forever be in your debt.”
    I ended the call, and Sebastian turned and headed north out of Savannah.
    He hit the freeway.
    Trees hugged the roadway, interspersed by buildings that opened up to small towns as the sun beat a path west and we continued silently toward our destination. The entire ride I fidgeted in my seat, picking at the hem of my shirt as I incessantly checked the time.
    Urging it along.
    Ten more minutes.
    Sebastian reached across the console and took my hand. “We’re gettin’ close, baby.”
    I squeezed his hand and attempted to steady my breaths, to calm the escalation of my heartbeat. But it only increased with every passing second. “I can’t wait to see her.”
    Every emotion I’d felt over the last few months seemed to gather right at the base of my throat. A lump derived from the blinding bliss Sebastian had brought into my life and the pain and torment that had followed, building and weaving and breaking and strengthening until I stood right here.
    On the cusp of where it all manifested as my future.
    A future with her.
    A future with him.
    All muddied with a cataclysm of unknowns that would make up our lives.
    Unknowns I couldn’t wait to experience.
    Exiting the freeway, Sebastian made a right, then a left.
    Sitting forward in my seat, I clamped down on his hand.
    Wave after wave of yearning washed me through.
    My beautiful, frightening man cast me a reassuring smile as he made another right down a street, then began to slow as we approached the address.
    He pulled up to a stop in front of a single-story home.
    My gaze was immediately drawn to the windows framed by white shutters, wondering if Kallie stood behind one, peering out, just as anxious for my return as I was for hers.
    Did she know I was coming? Did