Chapter 92: Chapter-92. (My Trump Card).
"She won’t stop crying," he said coldly. "And it’s testing my nerves." Of course, pathetic psycho behavior. What did he think when he brought a child into this shabby place?
I literally wanted to hit him so hard that it would make him see stars above his head, but unfortunately, the situation did not let me do as I pleased.
Now, I had to make it work, even if it meant talking sense or even begging him. Though talking sense to him seemed similar to hitting your head on the wall, I had to work it out for her. For Emma.
With utter determination, I whispered out the words, "Please, Josh."
I took in a deep breath, as I continued looking straight into his eyes, "I will do anything. Just... let her be with me for a little while."
His eyes narrowed as if he was not so convinced by my pleading. I gulped the lump formed in my throat as it was time to throw my trump card.
I lifted my head and said those words as calmly as possible, "I will give you whatever you want in return if you would like that."
This time his eyebrows got raised as if he was not expecting it, and to be honest, even I did not expect such a move from me.
I did not know why I had such a deep connection with that child. That too, in such a short period.
But I knew one thing: he liked bargains, and most of all, he liked watching me bend.
Slowly, a smirk tugged at his lips. He remained silent for a while as if he was contemplating. Every second felt like a decade when he finally opened his mouth, "One night."
He paused, looking for the reaction he needed me to give him. He knew that I was having feelings for Emm, and to confirm it, he wanted to see it himself, but I would not let that happen. Ever.
I kept my calm and kept staring at him when he completed, "And after that, you will do exactly what I say. If you refused, then..." He left the words unsaid, but I knew what he wanted to convey. And the message was received, clear and cut.
Fear slithered through me, but Emma’s soft sob pulled me back. I nodded quickly. "Fine," I muttered.
Josh studied me for a moment longer, then gave a sharp nod.
He shoved Emma forward, and she ran straight into my arms. He shut the door behind her, the lock clicking into place. For the first time in days, my chest loosened.
Emma’s small body shook against me as I hugged her, "Shh, baby," I murmured, stroking her dark hair. "You are safe now."
She sniffled into my shirt. "I thought... I thought he would not let me see you again."
I pulled back to look at her. Her cheeks were wet, her lashes clumped with tears. I wiped them gently. "Hey, don’t cry. I am here now."
She nodded, pressing her lips together to stop more tears from spilling.
After a long pause, she sat down on the sheets beside me. For a while, we just listened to the sounds outside as Josh’s footsteps faded away.
The silence stretched so that even the creak of the floor, the whisper of night air through the door were audible, that’s when Emma spoke, her voice quiet but steady. "Mommy... can I tell you something?"
"Yes, baby. You can tell me anything." I replied, caressing her hair.
She leaned against my shoulder, her tiny fingers tugging at the fabric of my sleeve.
"I don’t... remember much before Father took me." I froze at the word ’father’s as I realized that she meant Josh.
Her voice trembled as she went on getting me out of my trance, "But I remember a big house. There were many kids there."
Her brows knitted slightly. "We all had numbers... mine was seven."
"A lady named Rosa looked after us. She was nice, but..." Her words faltered.
"We couldn’t leave. We were not allowed to talk too loudly or cry too much."
Her grip on me tightened. "If we did... bad men came."
Her words made my stomach twist. I kept my voice calm, though every part of me was screaming. "What else do you remember?"
Emma paused, thinking hard.
"We used to sit in a big room... with old chairs."
Her eyes softened a little. "Sometimes Rosa sang songs to us at night. Soft ones, so we wouldn’t be scared."
"She always said she had to keep us quiet... so the men wouldn’t get angry."
Emma’s voice dropped lower. "Sometimes... kids disappeared."
"She said they went to new homes." She shook her head slightly. "But the others whispered... the men took them away."
My breath caught. I forced myself to nod, to keep her talking.
"Then one day," she continued, her voice even softer, "Father came. He looked at me for a long time. He said I was special. That I looked like someone." Her eyes met mine then, full of innocence. "He meant you, didn’t he?"
I swallowed hard, fighting the lump in my throat. "Yes, baby. He meant me."
Emma rested her head back on my shoulder. "After that, he took me away. I did not get to say goodbye to Rosa. He brought me here. And... he told me you were my mommy."
Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them back. She did not need my pain, but she needed my strength. "I am your mommy," I whispered, kissing her hair.
"Maybe not by blood, but by heart. You are mine now. And I will protect you."
Her little hand gripped mine tightly. "Promise?"
"I promise." I gripped it back with firmness as if I was not promising to her but myself.
We sat in silence for a while.
The room was dim; the only source was the yellow light coming from under the door.
Emma played with my fingers, tracing the lines of my palm like she was memorizing them. I breathed her in, the scent of her hair, the warmth of her small body. For that one fragile time, I felt almost human again.
But the clock was ticking. I could almost hear it in the silence. When the night would end, he would return back.
He would demand his price but I pushed the thought away and held Emma closer, needing every second I could steal.
"Do you ever think about running away?" Emma asked suddenly, her voice so small I almost did not hear it.