by Sandra Raine
"Why not," I said with the slightest bit of arrogant interest. I mean, aside from being the worlds most wanted whore I figured nothing could shock me anymore that is until Viktor spoke, and the world just gave out from beneath me:
"Andrew Parker, Bob Ray and Dominic Ray are all brothers."
Chapter 5
At first I wasn't sure if what I had just heard was even correct. . .that maybe somewhere within Viktor's tongue the words got switched around, or were misrepresented and I misinterpreted them. I wasn't sure if the statement: "Andrew Parker, Bob Ray and Dominic Ray are all brothers." held truth or was just a speculation that they could possibly be. . .brothers?
For a minute the revelation made no sense to me, particularly the way Dominic behaved around my fake father, my fake mother. . .behaving nervously, anxious to prove he was worthy of trust? Could it be, possibly be, that it was truly an act all along just to throw my suspicions off? Could there possibly be truth that my fake father, Mr. Ray and Dominic Ray were actually brothers? I mean, I didn't see it. And not necessary the blood resemblance but the resemblance in association, in the passion, that these three men could actually be blood brothers and harbor this sickening desire from one generation to another? The thought alone began to unnerve me to the point that I could literally feel myself contemplating suicide. And it was just hearsay.
"Jane," Jonah said suddenly, touching my shoulder gently which completely startled me that his kind gesture forced me to take an unnerving step back from him.
"Don't you fucking touch me!" I screamed.
"Goddamn it, Viktor!" Jonah bitched. "Did you have to fucking tell her this shit now?"
"Better now that she knows then it be to late," Viktor proposed. "Here," he then said, holding out, and what appeared to be, an old Polaroid photograph but I didn't care to see it.
"No." I said, snubbing on the picture.
"Here, Jane," Viktor persisted, his tone slowly coming to a wits end.
"No!" I continued to refuse.
"Ugh!" Jonah then grunted, snatching the photo from Viktor's hand and shoving it into mine. I shot Jonah a harsh stare 'cause I couldn't believe he went against me and sided with Viktor. "Please," his said behind eyes that pleaded. I choked back my anger and looked down at the photograph that consisted of five men with four I had clearly recognized, and of the four, three I had been oppressed by, and of the five, one I had never seen before in my life.
The photo was well preserved; almost in mint condition. At the bottom of the photo's white surrounding border the year '2007' had been scribbled in black ink which I thought was kind of odd considering that we were in the digital age and Polaroid's were no longer in use. The photo also looked like it had been taken on a farm somewhere mid-west 'cause there were wheat fields, a tractor and a rustic red barn lingering in the background. The day was cloudy. And the men were smirking: Andrew, Bob, Dominic, Abel and a man, probably in his late 50's early 60's. They were huddled together, looking proud, looking like they had just accomplished. . .something.
"Andrew, Robert and Dominic, Jane, you already know," Viktor said taking another seat. "Abel Jr. you barely know only because you had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting him recently. The older gentleman, Abel Sr. you have yet to meet."
"You mean Abel. . .I mean, Abel Jr. and Abel Sr. are father and son?"
Viktor nodded. "That. . .and - "
"And what?" I pressed, anxious.
"They're all related, Jane - "
"You mean like cousin related?"
"No. . .I mean, as in father, sons and brothers."
"Wait!" I said suddenly scrunching my forehead 'cause I was having trouble comprehending Andrew, Bob and Dominic's relation to the Abel men. "I mean, you're losing me. 'Father, sons and brothers'. . .I mean, I don't understand?"
"There's nothing to understand, Jane," Viktor assured as if to say that if I racked my brain hard enough I would figure it out. But instead he unraveled the mystery for me by dropping another bombshell, only this one was more catastrophic.
"Abel Sr. is Abel Jr., Andrew, Robert and Dominic's father."
"What?"
"The Organization that you thought was solely run by your so-called "father" is actually run by one man, Jane: Abel Sr.. The Parker-Ray Organization, known to me and others by, is actually a family-run business - second generation, to be exact; a business originated back in the 1930's, 40's by Abel Sr.'s father, Thomas Ray and his wife, Melina Parker, who, to my understanding, was a "soiled dove". . .a term recognized for "whore" by Phoenicians before Phoenix, Arizona was Phoenix, Arizona. It is also to my understanding that Thomas Ray was a long-standing customer of Melina's. You see, it turned out that Melina Parker was just fifteen when Thomas first made her acquaintance in a brothel he frequented for young girls. It is rumored that Thomas Ray was also Melina's first customer. It is also rumored that after three months, he stole Melina in the night and took her to Mexico where he married her and began a life with her.
'Years later they returned back to the U.S., heading east before settling in the mid-west where they stumbled upon a sick family struggling with some kind of un-curable disease. When the parents of the three girls died both Thomas and Melina helped nurse the three sisters back to health, and because Thomas and Melina were just as dirt poor as the family they had stumbled upon, they decided to continue east, as originally planned, and with the sisters where they eventually began prostituting them off to different men to help fund their travel expenses.
'Eventually Thomas and Melina settled somewhere in Virginia and established an underground brothel of young girls, charging a pretty penny for the pleasure of a pretty virgin girl; girls that Thomas Ray was personally snatching up and down the east coast. But when Thomas' business got so big for him to handle, he was forced to acquire partners; partners that soon began establishing their own businesses - subsidiaries of the Parker-Ray Organization; subsidiaries that soon trickled toward the west.
'As time passed with Melina giving birth to three sons, no daughters, Thomas Ray soon began grooming his sons to run the business with him. But a combination of bad blood and rivalry with some of Thomas's business partners eventually sparked a war for territory and expansion with two of Thomas's sons gunned down in cold blood now leaving Abel Ray, Thomas's only son, left to run the family business.
'Abel Ray was just shy of twenty when he began making a name for himself which also included "ill tempered" and "extremely violent" from the list of his unconventional characteristics brandishing him as someone not to fuck with both personally and business wise - it was also rumored that the law even feared him, sometimes leaving him and his business to conduct freely and uninterrupted. Because Abel was the sole heir to his father's business, Abel began having sexual relationships with young girls and women, impregnating some accidentally, and fathering others purposely. With one son and a handful of daughters, Abel supposedly abandoned his children and settled his sights on a sixteen-year-old girl named Sara and married her and fathered five sons and one daughter but ended up losing his fourth youngest son and his only daughter to Small Pox, leaving Abel Jr., Andrew, Robert and Dominic to continue the family business which now involves you."
"So what's your point in telling me all this?" I demanded suddenly and unsympathetically 'cause in all honesty, I was not phased by the additional information regarding my captors. In fact, I was more disgusted now than what I was in fear in then.
"Because I want you to understand the business you're associated with, Jane. And the men who have control over you despite my interference, despite my being your rightful owner. And whether you agree or not, Jane, you are my property. You belong to me."
"Are you prepared to tell Andrew that. . .I mean, Abel Sr. and his sons and his various Organizations that I belong to you and they should just back the fuck off?"
"In so many words. . .Yes."
"And you think they're going to just listen. . .give me up like that, without a fight, or without raging their own war agai
nst you?"
"War has already begun, Jane," Jonah interceded casually.
"And what do you mean by that?" I argued.
"You, Anna and Bree escaping Abel's Hell for starters. . .Our involvement beginning with the deception in Boston. . .Us using one of their own to get to them. . .You, Anna and Bree under our protection. . .I mean, the list just goes on and on."
"Okay. Enough." I exasperated. "So what's the plan now, Viktor? Keep me and Anna and Bree on the run? Keep us in hiding? I mean, if Abel Sr. has these so-called "subsidiary" organizations still in existence and here in the U.S. then I hate to be the bearer of bad news. . .but you're going to get fucked. I mean. . .We're all fucked already, and I can understand that. But it'll be just a matter of time before we're caught; and you. . .well you and your men could very well end up on the other side of the executioners trench. I mean, wouldn't you agree to agree?"
"I have more men than what you've seen this far, Jane. What you've seen outside these walls is petty - "
"Really?" I scoffed shifting a mocking glance between Viktor and Jonah, letting them know that there was no way I was fucking buying into their abundance sense of security. I had already been down that path before, beginning with Boston.
"Think what you will, Jane." Viktor sassed.
"Then bring me comfort, Viktor, please. Please tell me that this fortress nestled in the midst of New Orleans doesn't even begin to compare to what you have yet to expose to me. Please, Viktor," I bellowed in desperation, "I need to hear it. I need to hear something."
"Trust me, Jane," Viktor exasperated himself, "when I say that the unfortunate and the vast of my businesses lie abroad. . .Something I'm not to fond of admitting; something I never prepared for considering I never had interest in the U.S."
"Well perhaps that's in part of your loyalty toward the other Organizations here in America."
"Are you siding with me, Jane?" Viktor mused.
"No. I mean. . .I don't know? Um. . .maybe. . .yes." I stammered, and not to fond of myself for even considering to side.
"I think the best thing to do is get you, Anna and Bree out of the country and put you where you three can never be touched. Jonah?"
"It's a possibility," Jonah agreed, yet there was a hint of doubt clinging to his tone which instantly changed when his gaze upon me brought me some kind of comfort and not necessarily fear. "I mean, our connections- -businesses and allies - could very well help Jane and Anna and Bree live more comfortable lives. So, yeah. . .Getting them out of the country undetected and now would probably be our best interest."
"Call Colorado. Make them aware of our plans. Tell them we need to move quickly, quietly." Jonah nodded eagerly and began dialing his cell. "Jane?" Viktor called to me calmly, almost elated that he found a solution to our problem.
"What?"
"Do you think you'd enjoy living in London? It's big. Easy to get lost in. You'll be untouchable."
"I don't know," I said with a sorrow shrug of my shoulders 'cause I knew a great part of me would miss my America.
I glanced down at my hands not realizing I was still holding onto my past in the form of a photograph. My stomach somersaulted. My hands began to tremble just thinking about how I never ever wanted to return back to that Hell. I stepped to Viktor's desk and handed the photo back to him. Viktor's nostrils flared. And it wasn't out of anger or frustration but more out of regret for what he divulged about that photograph, and to none other than me.
"If it should come to war. . .I hope to God you kill Andrew Parker and Abel Jr. and Bob Ray. Make them fucking pay for what they've done to me and Bree."
"And what of Dominic?" Viktor pried, taken aback some that I did not mention Dominic in my hit list.
"It's done." Jonah said slamming his cell shut. "They should be on the tarmac within the hour."
"I don't hold Dominic responsible for what he's done to me. He was forced." I sided.
"And you believe that?" Viktor retorted, ignoring Jonah's confused expression regarding our conversation.
"Yes."
"Is Dominic special to you?"
"In so many ways. . .Yes, I suppose."
"You sound confused about your feelings for Dominic, Jane."
"Trust me, Viktor. . .I'm not proud about my confusion nor these feelings I harbor for Dominic. But the conclusion I've come up with is that he was just a kid himself when he was groomed into the lifestyle. I mean, he knew no better."
"They were all groomed just the same, Jane. Evil knows no discrimination. I can contest to that."
"Yes. 'Cause you, too, were just a kid when you were abused. . .subjected, I mean."
"Yes. But the difference between Dominic Ray and myself is that one of us had a choice; he was blessed. I however, was not."
"I don't want Dominic harmed," I stated firmly, loud and clear despite Viktor's opinion. Viktor tossed the photo aside on his desk and slovenly reached for his cigar box, accidentally bumping over a framed picture. If it hadn't been for my quick reflexes of catching the picture before it hit the mosaic floor, it would have surely missed landing on the imported carpet by a mere inch with the glass shattering into a million pieces.
"Excuse me," Viktor said reaching out for the picture. I would have surely handed the picture back to Viktor if it hadn't been for a grinning young Viktor, a beautiful smiling young woman, a rambunctious little boy and a laughing baby girl draped in a vibrantly red shawl set against a portrait studio's background seizing my attention. While it was a perfect family portrait it was the vibrant red shawl that held me back from giving it back to Viktor who, and just by the weight of the urgency in his tone, was now demanding it back from me.
"Jane," Viktor pressed snapping a finger.
"Is this your family?" I interrogated Viktor suddenly, purposely withholding the picture from him. "I mean, is this your wife. . .and your Jonah, there in the picture?"
"Jane. Just give me the picture, okay?"
"No. Not until you answer my question."
"Jane. The picture. Hand it to me. Now."
"No! I want to know. . .Are they your family?!"
"Yes! Now give me the fucking picture!"
"Dad. C'mon, ease up."
"And the baby girl in the picture," I then continued to press calmly and brazenly in spite of Viktor's impending anger which was about to hit more than the cathedral ceilings hovering above my head. "Is she your daughter?"
"What?. . .Wait!. . ." Viktor stumped before his anger shifted from a rage to an outrage. "What the fuck is it to you?! Give me the goddamn picture! Now!" he snapped, jumping up from his seat.
"Not until you - "
"Yes! She's my fucking daughter!"
"Oh, my God!" my voice then shattered into a million pieces just like the glass in the picture frame could've shattered if it weren't for my saving it. But as fate would have it, the picture ended up falling on the mosaic floor and shattering into a million pieces when it involuntarily slipped from my grasp.
Viktor, to my utmost surprise, dashed around his desk and kneeled down in haste beside Jonah who was already kneeled and reaching for the picture while I just stood there, watching in shock and in awe as father and son worked around the mess strenuously and rigorously as if their lives had somehow been interrupted by a single innocent drop of a picture which obviously told me how special that particular picture was to the both of them.
And despite my trembling knees, my shaking hands, I reached for my duffle bag and reached to the very depth of my clouded past and cleared it into the present. And both Viktor and Jonah must've sensed the waning shift in my demeanor 'cause within a second they both simultaneously glanced up with time standing still.
Chapter 6
But time however, remained a lesser essence to both Viktor and Jonah 'cause they were now both standing on their feet, their gazes transfixed on the past dangling on my shaking hand.
"Jesus Christ," Jonah mustered as if he had just seen a ghost he had never intended on seeing ever in his life
time. And I couldn't help but to sympathize somewhat 'cause it was all starting to make sense to me now, and why Jonah was too good for me. "Jesus Christ," he repeated leaving Viktor to remain speechless as he slowly began to maneuver closer to me, unsure if what he was seeing was more of a deception or the startling truth?
Once Viktor reached me, we were no more than a friendly gesture of space between us. And with his own shaking hand, Viktor picked up the picture and held it against that red vivid shawl dangling from my hand. . .Then the truth was there, not in color but in black and white: The baby girl in the picture draped in that same red vivid shawl. . .was me.
"Oh, my. . .oh, Jesus," Viktor mustered somewhat angered, somewhat enraged, yet it was his expression of absolute and genuine shock which spoke volumes to how he was really feeling. There was no doubt in his eyes clouded both in tears and in fear that I was his stolen biological daughter.
"She was right," Viktor mustered in a state of confession thus throwing me for a complete and utter spin.
"Wh. . .what?" I said holding the red shawl close against my chest for comfort.
"Sissy." Viktor retorted shaking his head in confusion.
"Sissy? You mean, mum, dad?" Jonah pressed, touching Viktor gently on his arm.
"Is Sissy. . .my. . .my - "
". . .Your mother?" Viktor elated as both corners of his mouth upturned slightly. I choked back my tears and nodded. "Yes. Sissy is your biological mother. And Jonah," he said turning his attention to Jonah with that same smile of elation. "Jonah is my son from a previous relationship but he's still your blood brother, Jane. I mean. . .Janie."
"'Janie'?"
"Yes, Janie. That's what your mother and I named you," Viktor said as his trembling hand reached out to me to stroke my hair, my cheek. And while I should have flinched from Viktor's touch 'cause it was a man's touch, I instead welcomed it, embraced it. "Tell me, Jane," Viktor then said focusing his gaze on the shawl. "Where did you get the shawl? Who gave it to you? I need to know." And instead of answering that very question which was simple and harmless 'cause he wasn't here to do me any harm, I actually found it difficult to confess. I guess how I came to acquire it meant to relive the past, the day Andrew Parker showed up at my motel room unexpectedly and pulled me back into his evil world.