Sold [Rough Draft]

Chapter 26

THIS IS DEDICATED TO THE GIRL WHO DISCOVERED A PLOT HOLE IN MY STORY. LOL. DON'T YOU JUST LOVE PLOT HOLES? 

Chapter 26

                I couldn't take my eyes off his slender figure. It had been such a long time since I had seen his mocha brown skin, or rounded grey eyes. My fingers twitched to run themselves through his dreadlocks, like I always did when we were watching movies at his house. I knew I had always appreciated Wren greatly—he was my best friend, of course—but reuniting with him now, after I haven't seen him in about a month, made me want to jump in his arms and never let him go.

                Carefully, I eased closer to Phil's bed. I pushed my right foot out, then my left. I glanced at Phil, who sputtered another dry cough. I watched as he lifted his left hand and jutted out his index finger. "You—you...look like someone I know..." Phil noted and spit out another nasty cough. "...Wren!" Phil exclaimed weakly and dropped his left hand back to his side.

                Wren nodded, and glanced over at Jeremiah. "Yes...he's my son..."

                Liar, I smirked.  Wren and his cunning ways.

                "He—he...went after my daughter...when she left. He looked...for her five hours—hours...straight. That boy...he's a good boy." Phil nodded his head slightly and huffed out a weighty breathe.

                Instantly, gratification crossed Wren's features and the corner of his lips titled upward. "Thank you, sir."

                "Alright, did she have a boyfriend...or close friends—besides Wren?" Jeremiah continued to ask.

                "Yes. This one girl...Kimberly. She was a trouble-maker, but a smart girl."

                Jeremiah scribbled something down in his notepad, and looked back up at Phil. "Did you have a close relationship with your wife or Charity?"

                   "Meaning?"

                    "Any major arguments...violent behaviour...?"

                "No, Rita and Charity were my everything. They are why I woke every morning to go to work."

            Once again, the detective scribbled something down in his legal pad and then sighed. "Alright," He nodded and stood up. With distinct grace he placed his pen in the chest pocket of his long black trench coat. "Do you mind if we look around?"

                "Of course, but please...bring my nurse." Phil asked and dipped his head further in the sheets. Never had I seen my father so weak, fragile and helpless.  My heart shattered once again, and I moved closer to his bed side. Knowing I couldn't touch his body, I rest my hand above his head and looked down into the empty eyes that were once over flowing with joy.

                "I did this to you, dad." I spoke softly. "I'm so sorry." I apologized, and quieted my bottom lip with my teeth. Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I removed my hand and placed his on my lips. "Don't worry, dad, I'm gonna make this right. I promise." I amended and blow him a kiss, before jogging out his bedroom.

                  Vaguely, I followed the faint male voice across the hall, until my feet stopped in front of Phil's study. Pushing open the door, I caught sight of Wren and Jeremiah. Quickly, I dashed into the room and pressed my body against the wall. Although I couldn't see what it was, because their backs were to me, I knew they were looked down at something.