Page 5 of Blissful Devotion

Without even knowing where I’m going, I wind up at the damn tree.

It’s not lit, but that’s fine. I still look at it and see it the same way I did that night with her last year.

We’d intended to make new memories here with her last night, but that moment had been stolen from us, at least for now.

Though when we get her back, Dad needs to think of something new because there’s no way I’m waiting a whole year to make her ours.

Never going to happen.

I sit on my bike, rubbing my hands together for a moment as I look around at all the decorations and the insanely tall buildings. Even now, at four in the morning, people are coming and going, starting or ending their day on their way home or to the office.

I sit for a moment, thinking before I fish my phone out of my pocket. I open Google and type in a name to see what comes up.

Elio.

2 Days without Kat

Addy is still asleep on the couch, Ruby at her side the perfect friend and guardian. With every hour that ticks by, I have to remind myself that sleep is good for her.

We heal in our sleep, and the few times I have roused her to check, she woke easily enough, so I’m no longer worried about a concussion.

At least that’s something, I suppose.

It’s the only thing, honestly, because no matter how long we all sit here or what we try to look into, we keep hitting dead ends.

If not for Addison, I would be at the office, but even though that would make me feel better than sitting around, there isn’t much more I could do there.

I’ve called most of my connections, but getting information takes time, and right now that feels like the one thing we have the least of.

“Daddy…” Addison’s whispered call pulls me back to the present, and I find her sitting up on the couch, rubbing her eyes, still red and puffy, a pout on her lips that tells me she’s seconds from crying.

I’m up and scooping her off the couch a moment later.

I can do this; she gives me purpose.

I hold her close, smoothing ‌her hair and rubbing circles on her back in hopes of helping her stay calm.

“Good morning, Princess,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Kat was taken yesterday, but the car accident could have taken so much more.

“I’m hungry,” she mumbles against my shoulder, and for a moment, I freeze.

Kat has only been here a few months, yet there isn’t a thing that doesn’t remind me of her, even just cooking simple meals.

I push past the sadness that sits heavy in my gut like a rock and slap on a smile, knowing that Addy is probably feeling the same way.

I need to be strong for her. We all do, and before too long, Kat will be back. I don’t care what I have to do to make that true, but I’ll do it.

“How about we all go and make something? How does that sound?” I wait for her to respond, and when I finally feel her nod, I jerk my chin toward the kitchen for the others to follow.

They need to get out of their heads just as much as I do.

All we can do for now is wait, and that’s enough to drive anyone crazy.

We went with cereal, since just about everything else seemed to make her sad. Not that I can blame her; Addison and Kat were often in the kitchen whipping things up.

It was one of her favorite things, and I can’t deny it rendered some delicious results.