Tortured - Jaele

|| Chapter Eight ||

Jace-

Promise has an upset stomach, maybe a headache and a fever. She won't eat anything I offer to her, she won't drink anything. Her forehead felt extremely hot against my lips when I kissed it. She will not sleep unless I am holding her, unless she's in my lap and she feels my heavy hand on her back. I know she's sick. But I don't know what to do. If I take her to the hospital a lot of questions will be asked. Isa has been calling me for over 2 hours. Nicky's body is floating through the currents of Rhode Island beach. That was something I had not planned on executing when I arrived at the apartment. Riele had told her too much. It was my only option. I can hear the television on in the living room. Riele is still awake. She won't come anywhere near me and I have decided to let her be for the moment. I wanted to focus on what was most important. Promise. My little girl does not look good.

"Wake up bebe... Come on, eat please."

I hold a spoonful of cold applesauce up to Promise's lips but she shifts her head to the side against my chest, moaning weakly. Denying it. I've taken her shirt off so that she will cool down some. I'm drawing drawn a blank at what I'm supposed to do next. I don't have any childrens tylenol, or anything I can give her. The room is dark, I have only one lamp on and lights of the city outside make shadow's dance across her little back. I feel the heat of her skin sticking to me, I smooth her hair back and sigh.

"Mi amor you're making daddy worry. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to help you."

I whispered to her. Promise's eyelids flicker back and forth as she falls in and out of a light sleep. She makes sucking motions with her mouth as if she had a binky in it. Rubbing my hand over my face, I pick my phone up to swipe ignore on another one of Isabella's calls. I know I can't keep putting her off for long. I have to think about the next steps to take. I have to think about what I'm going to do. I gently lay Promise on the bed against a pillow and stand up, stretching my back. I lean over and grab my shirt, slipping it over my head. I can't let her suffer. I have to do something.

Leaving my room, I see Riele propped in front of the television. I go in, grab the remote and promptly turn it off, sittin down on the coffee table two feet away from her position on the sofa.

"I need your help."

She blinks at me, sitting up.

"With what?"

"My daughter."

I said, swallowing hard. She's a woman. She's probably dealt with sick children before. She's the last hope I have. The only hope I have.

"What's wrong?"

Concern flashes in her eyes. For a moment I'm drawn back. I didn't think she would care if my daughter was dead or alive. Happy or sad. I look away from her, my eyes skittering into the kitchen.

"I don't know. She's sick. She feels hot, she won't eat or drink. She's just sleeping and it's fucking with me."

I rub my hands together slowly, bringing my eyes back to her. Riele looks down at the carpet as if searching for the answer to this problem. The nail of her thumb flies to her mouth as her brow scrunches up.

"Can I... Can I see her?"

Her eyes flicker up to mine. I stare at her for a moment, and then eventually nod. She stands up and I lead her back to the bedroom where Promise is still in her twilight sleep. Riele walks up to the bed, her hands falls across Promises forehead. My little girl moves uncomfortably under the extra warmth.

"Baba..."

She lifts her head wearily, her soft brown eyes are blurry with sleep flurries as she searches for me in the dim lighting of the room.