A/N: I just want to say thank you to all my readers because, well, you rock!

Chapter 8: Miracles

EPOV

We were close; I could feel it in my bones. Exhaustion wasn't something that I would allow my body to feel because the wild goose chase was almost over. Rasul managed to get us a chartered plane to Arkansas. How he managed it, I didn't know and I didn't ask.

He had been on the phone nearly non-stop, talking to various agents who were busy listening to wiretapped conversations and interrogating people from the raid at Sophie-Anne's. Not surprisingly, all of the major players were entreating their Fifth Amendment protection from self-incrimination. Frustrating, though that was, it was also quite incredible the amount of information you could glean from house workers, gardeners and other workers whom I'm certain Sophie Anne never gave one iota of consideration to.

In between Rasul's phone calls, he briefed me on the new intel he had gotten. The FBI was finally able to trace the recorded phone call between Andre, Sophie-Anne's lackey, and John Lochlan, the man who I was certain had my daughter, to a small town just south of Magnolia, Arkansas. Rasul also found out, through his international contacts, that the Irish authorities were currently questioning a man named Niall Brigant.

The Brigant name, in the U.S at least, was most commonly associated with advertisements played during the nightly news. Brigant Pharmaceuticals manufactured some of the most popular drugs for high blood pressure, cholesterol, and erectile dysfunction just to name a few. In short, the Brigant's were filthy rich.

Apparently, Fintan Brigant had moved to New Orleans about two years ago from Manchester, for what reason, no one knows. Fintan was kidnapped about a week ago and his captors sent Niall Brigant a ransom request for six million dollars, which the elder Brigant dismissed without a second thought. As for Fintan, well let's just say his captors weren't joking when they said "or else".

How all of this relates to Sookie Stackhouse and my daughter was a bit hard to believe. Sookie Stackhouse, small town waitress who lives an unassuming life in a century plus old farmhouse, happens to be an heir to the Brigant Pharmaceutical fortune. Though I doubt she even knows since her brother didn't even seem to recognize the name Brigant when it was mentioned at the briefing in Shreveport.

As the truth began to unravel itself, I felt pity for Ms. Stackhouse. Not that I thought she was naïve or anything, but there was just so much going on around her and she was completely ignorant of it. Bill, her relation to the Brigants, her selfish cousin.

In my opinion, her cousin, Hadley, deserved a special place in hell. She had absolutely no guilt over trading her cousins' freedom for her own. How could she sleep at night knowing that Sookie would be made to prostitute herself so that she could enjoy her freedom in a plush Garden District mansion? It was sickening, but Rasul guaranteed me that Victor Madden was now assuredly on the FBI's radar and it was only a matter of time until they had enough evidence to shut down his sick operation.

"We're about to start the descent." Rasul said wearily. I nodded. I had spent the hour or so flight time centering myself and getting my head straight since I was so certain that we were about to put an end to this nightmare. "Gotcha." I replied sitting up straight.

I peered out the window and though it was a fairly cloudy day, I could see a lot of greenery, mostly maple and oak trees. From my vantage point, I couldn't see a whole lot of dwellings, which was very common for small towns in the south. Lochlan had taken the girls to such a remote location and it unnerved me to my core. No one would hear their screams.

I had to put a stop to the dark thoughts that infiltrated my every waking moment. Lochlan was a desperate man and he needed the money and therefore he needed them alive. But desperate men do desperate things.

They're fine. We're coming. I assured myself over again.

"See that fire out there in the distance?" I nudged Rasul and pointed to what appeared to be a small brush fire.

"Probably just the locals burning their trash." He answered. Though the practice wasn't all that uncommon in rural parts, I couldn't help but feel drawn to the black clouds of smoke. An overwhelming feeling of terror raked through me and I couldn't help but feel like something bad had happened. But I told myself that my imagination was running wild due to the circumstances.

The minutes until landing were the absolute worst. My anxiety was ratcheted up to an unbearable level. My leg bounced uncontrollably and my hands were restless and sweaty. If I could get up and pace, I certainly would have. Rasul seemed nervous too, though not as much as I. He kept checking his watch as if by constantly looking at it would make the time pass more quickly. If only that were true.

After what felt like hours, we were finally on solid ground. Rasul had procured a rental car and we were finally driving towards the coordinates the FBI was able to trace from the cell phone pings.

The coordinates seemed to be leading us towards the location where Rasul was certain that the locals were simply burning their trash. As we got closer and closer to the target location, we didn't veer away from the fire; in fact we were headed right for it.

"Stop!" I yelled. Rasul immediately slammed on the brakes and both of our heads propelled forward, mine almost hit the dash.

"What the fuck man?" He grumbled as he rubbed his neck.

I didn't respond. Instead, I jumped out of the car and ran towards what had caught my eye. Rasul wasn't too far behind me because I heard his yelling at me to stop. Not fucking likely.

"Pam!" I yelled desperately. "Pamela!" I saw one of her pink shoes on the side of the road. They were hers, I could swear on it. As soon as I saw it, I bolted in that direction.

"Daddy?" her voice was faint, but I heard it nonetheless. It was her voice and it made my heart leap. I stopped dead in my tracks in an attempt to get a better feel for where her voice was coming from.

"Pamela! I'm coming baby girl!" I said and frantically ran to the east. I was probably about an eighth of a mile from the side of the road. The grass was tall and thick and there were so many trees. It was very difficult to see in front of me, so it actually made for a great hiding place. Rasul was right behind me as I ran as fast as the woods would let me.

I heard her crying before I actually saw her. She was crying my name over and over "Daddy, Daddy" she sobbed. I'd never be able to erase from my memory the sheer terror I heard in her voice.

I saw her tiny little body huddled at the trunk of a large oak tree. She was covered by branches and leaves so she was very dirty, but she looked okay.

"Pam!" I yelled and picked her up and held her so tight. I was powerless to the tears that fell from my eyes, because I was just so overwhelmed with happiness. Having her in my arms, safe and sound, was the best feeling in the whole world and in that moment, I vowed to never take one single moment of her life for granted.

Pam, who was sobbing, squeezed me so hard that her fingernails were actually digging into my shoulders to the point of pain, but I couldn't even be bothered to care. I peppered her head with kisses and told her that I loved her over and over.

Our moment was interrupted only by Rasul's insistence that we also try to find the Stackhouse woman. In my overwhelming joy, I had almost forgotten that there was another person involved.

"Baby girl, can you tell me what happened?" I asked Pam gently. God knows, I didn't want to upset her any more than was necessary.

"Sookie got burned and told me to run." Pam said in between her tears. The ominous feeling I had on the plane when I noticed the small fire was back, and as Pam pointed towards the dark smoke clouds, I sent a silent prayer for Sookie's safety.

Having only a small portion of the story recounted by a five year old didn't make me confident that I knew what the whole situations was, but I was one hundred percent sure of one thing.

Sookie had saved my daughter.

As much as I wanted to take Pam and go home, I had a duty to Sookie. Rasul was already on the phone calling in the local police for backup, and I wasn't taking Pam back into danger, so the best I could do for Sookie at the moment was wait for help to arrive.

As Rasul and I waited for the police, Pam was eerily quiet. Her sobbing had subsided, but as I held her, she put her tiny head on my shoulder and simply held me close. If it wasn't for her occasional sniffles, I would've thought she was asleep. I wondered if she had slept or eaten. Had she been mistreated? I had so many questions, but I couldn't ask her because I didn't want to traumatize her even more.

"It's okay baby girl." I assured her and kissed the crown of her head.

"Where's momma Sookie?" Pam asked as she lifted her head off my shoulder. The sheer concern I saw in her eyes broke my heart. A thousand thoughts flew across my mind. Did she just call Sookie momma? God. What did that mean? Had Sookie brainwashed her or was it just an attachment thing born from a shared traumatic experience? And if the latter was true and Sookie wasn't okay, how would my little girl react?

I didn't really have time to think of a sufficient enough answer because I heard police sirens approaching, so all I could say was, "It's going to be okay baby."

I wished that I could've said that with a little more certainty, but all I could do was wait and pray.

A/N: I wrote a One Shot for the SVM Happily Ever After Contest and it's called "Euphoria, Take My Hand". The title is based on a Glasvegas song of the same name. (That band rocks btw) Anyway, I've gotten both positive and negative feedback on it. I didn't really think it was THAT controversial, but oh well. Check it out if you want. There will be a public vote on the 19th and i'd appreciate all of your votes if you're so inclined.

By the way, Anon Guest Reviewer, I don't give a shit if my story disgusts you, so there... :)~