Raw

by Belle Aurora

  “I was going to trap you,” he whispers.

  Taking a step back, I breathe in a shaky breath.

  He watches my feet as I move away and says, “Good girl. Finally seeing some sense.”

  He’s pushing me away. I don’t know why, but I intend to find out.

  I ask shakily, “W-why? And how?”

  His hands grip the edge of his desk. He breathes deeply and replies on an exhale, “You were meant to be living in a shitty house, with a shitty family, and have a shitty life. I was counting on that. So when I made my first million and came back for you—” I gasp and place a hand on my chest. His eyes flash and he smirks cruelly, “Oh, yeah. I came back for you. Only, you weren’t there. But your family still was. So when I pounded on the door and asked if Alexa was home, your dad laughed at me.”

  His jaw steels. “He fucking laughed at me. Here I was, a fucking self-made millionaire, and a guy with none of his own teeth left fucking laughs at me? No. Not happening.”

  “What did you do to my dad?”

  He leans forward and curls his lip. “Nothing the fucker didn’t deserve. I should’ve made him beg. Did you even know your brother died, Lexi? Did the asshole even try to find you to tell you?”

  Walking backwards, I lose my stepping, stumble back, and fall hard on my ass.

  No. No!

  And Twitch just stands there. Looking down at me. Like I’m a piece of garbage.

  “Who are you?”

  He laughs, “Now you ask? You’ve been fucking me for months and you don’t even know my name. Who does that?”

  What he says next makes me realize that as much as I tried to understand this man, I don’t know him at all. He looks me in the eyes and announces clinically, “My name is Tony Falcon. I spent my nights dreaming of a girl named Alexa who helped me when I was eight years old. She told me she wouldn’t forget my name.” His face turns harsh. “And I promised myself to make sure she wouldn’t.”

  My eyes widen in stunned disbelief and my blood runs cold. The pressure in my ears builds.

  No!

  This is a bad dream. A fucking nightmare. This isn’t happening to me.

  The tears come strong and fast. I mutter between heaving breaths, “Antonio? Antonio Falco?”

  Nodding slowly, he searches my face for a long moment before he crosses his legs and makes himself comfortable. “In my mind, you were this little fucking bitch. Some stupid asshole who couldn’t mind her own business. And I promised myself that I would find you and fucking own you. All because you helped me. You gave me hope in a fucked up world. And when that hope dwindled and died, I was bitter. I am bitter. It was your fault I ever fucking had dreams. Dreams I never should’ve had, Lexi.” Closing his eyes, his voice softens a little. “Then I couldn’t find you. You weren’t anywhere. I had all this money. All these resources at my fingertips, and I couldn’t find you.”

  His eyes open and he glares at me. “It’s as if you were hiding from me. Mocking me. Telling me I couldn’t have you. And no one says no to me, Lexi. If they do, they change their minds pretty fucking quick enough, or they die. Simple as that.”

  Why aren’t you leaving?

  Because it’s cutting me so deeply that I need to hear it to the end. Twitch might just get his wish after all.

  Straightening a little, he removes his cufflinks and places them next to him on the desk. “So I hired someone who wouldn’t fail. And it cost me that first million, Lexi. Nox is the best at what he does, and he didn’t find you…for a fucking year. So that just made me madder.” His eyes flash. “So when I finally got that call, I was pissed. He tells me you’d been living in Australia for a few months and that your foster mom was dying. See, that should’ve made me feel bad, but it didn’t, because if you were alone, I could manipulate you more easily. I thought maybe it would only take a few dinners and me being sweet to you to make you fall. Boy, was I wrong!”

  My brain is on freeze. “Wh-what happened then?”

  Crossing his arms, he breathes deeply and replies through an exhale. “You were independent. And sweet. And fucking cute. You got educated all by yourself. You didn’t even need my money. At least, I don’t think it would’ve made you happier. And I felt something the first second I sat back and watched you from under my hood.”

  Me too.

  He dips his chin. “And you did too. I know you did.” Lifting his suddenly-tired face to mine, he utters warily, “I wasn’t meant to fall for you. You were just going to be a toy for me. Nothing more, nothing less. I was going to humiliate you whenever I could, just because I could. Make you realize that hope means shit. I was gonna make you do horrible things, all for my pleasure.”

  Don’t want to listen to anymore. Let’s go.

  Standing on shaky legs, I turn and walk to the door.

  That’s when he says it.

  “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. If it weren’t for you, I’d be in jail. Or dead. I don’t know which one’s worse. But you saved me.” He sounds disappointed in himself when he whispers, “Wasn’t meant to fall for you.”

  The tears start to fall, my breath hitches, and I turn the knob.

  His voice sounds from behind me, cruel and taunting. “Good riddance. Knew you’d be trouble from the second I hired that street rat to rape you.”

  Walking away, I mentally hear glass cracking under my feet because I step right over my shattered heart.

  His words should halt me. They should’ve made me angry. Made me want to fight.

  But there’s no fight left in me.

  I’m done.

  Done with this relationship. Done with settling for someone who doesn’t want me or love me. Done with the lies and hiding things.

  I am done.

  My heart isn’t breaking. There’s nothing left of it to break. I’m hollow.

  My mind replays what Twitch just said.

  Knew you’d be trouble from the second I hired that street rat to rape you.

  A sob bursts out of me as I try to escape Falcon Plastics. Funnily enough, Ling catches me off guard waiting by the lift. Her face a mixture of worry and sadness, “He break up with you?”

  I spit, “Fuck off, you dumb whore.”

  She sighs and leans by the lift door. “If he broke up with you…” She straightens, then starts to walk away. “…then there’s a good reason for it.”

  Dismissing her cryptic message, the lift opens and I feel him at my back.

  He sounds desperate. “You’ll take the next lift. We need to talk.”

  His hand tries to capture mine, but I pull away. “Nothing left to say.”

  Stepping into the empty lift behind me, the doors close and he whispers, “Thought I could do it. Thought I could let you go. But…but I can’t.” My anger spikes. “Soon as I saw you walk away, something snapped inside of me. I-I didn’t mean it. I panicked. Please talk to me.”

  Without turning to him, I ask, “Did you really hire that man?”

  He replies immediately, “Yes.” My gut sinks and he adds urgently, “But he wasn’t meant to take it that far. And he’s dead now. So it doesn’t matter. I saved you.”

  I scoff and he utters, “I needed a chance to meet you. I needed to have something on you. Something you owed me for. I-I love you, Lexi.”

  “You got a funny way of showing it,” Turning to him, I sneer, “Antonio.”

  Standing in front of me, blocking my exit, he snatches my hand and places it over the small thirteen tattooed on his cheekbone. His frantic eyes meet mine. “Feel that scar? Know how I got it?” His lip quivers. “You should. You were there.”

  Cupping his cheek, I dip my chin and cry softly, “I still love you. So I need to walk away from you. You need help.”

  He ignores me, “This angel appears in front of me. I think to myself that God sent her to me. That I was going to die and that she was there to guide me to heaven.”

  My shoulders shake with every heaving breath, I stutter, “P-please, stop.”


  Catching my face in his hands, he goes on, “She was bossy as hell. And I fell in love with her. But I thought she’d never want someone like me. And my life got complicated, and my brain stopped working like other peoples. Somewhere between then and now, she fell in love with me too.”

  Kissing my mouth, he utters, “She’s in danger, though. And I need to keep her safe. Because I love her.” Another kiss. “I’d kill anyone who tried to hurt her.”

  “You’re hurting me. You’ve been hurting me from that first day. And my heart can’t take it anymore. I’m done.”

  The lift doors open and he pulls back, “You said you’d never leave me. And I’m holding you to that. Because when you’re safe again, I’m coming for you, Angel.”

  Leaving him in the lift, I turn and start to walk backwards. Watching him watch me, I tell him, “I’m pregnant.”

  His face contorts in pain. A tear falls past the thirteen on his cheek. Sniffing, he turns his head to wipe the tear away. He sounds so determined as he says, “Then I’ll come for both of you.”

  Realizing there’s no point in arguing with Twitch, I turn and walk my broken self towards the main entrance. A man holds the door open for me. He smiles sweetly, and I return the smile. No point in being angry at a man I don’t know. Especially one who wears an eye patch.

  I walk a short distance before I hear Twitch shout, “Lexi! Run!”

  But I don’t. I turn to the sound of his voice.

  The man with the eye patch has his gun aimed at me. A chorus of panicked shouting erupts, and people scatter like ants.

  I don’t blame them. If I wasn’t so petrified, I’d run too.

  The man smirks at me and shouts back to Twitch, “You should know better, old friend.” Holding my gaze, he utters, “No one wins in war.”

  Closing my eyes tightly, my hands cover my stomach protectively as I await the inevitable.

  Today, I die.

  The shot rings out, and I’m amazed by how little I feel.

  Another three shots ring out and I open my eyes. Twitch has the man on his back, with the gun pointed at his forehead. The man laughs, “Oh well. It was worth a try.”

  And those would be the last words that man ever said.

  The man’s body jerks uncontrollably as Twitch pulls back on the trigger and places a bullet into his brain.

  Twitch kneels over the man’s body, panting. Reaching up, he cups the side of his neck, and from this angle, I can’t tell how badly hurt he is. My brain finally tells my feet to move and I run towards him. My mouth won’t work. My eyes move down to the side of his neck where he clutches his palm. Blood trickles from between his fingers and I choke out, “You’re hurt.”

  He chuckles, “Just a graze, babe. Seriously, it’s nothing.”

  I watch as the trickle turns to a gush. His eyes flutter as he says weakly, “Go get Happy. Right now.”

  Standing quickly, I run back into the building and screech, “Happy! I need help!”

  Not a second passes before I see Happy exit the door to my right and run towards me. Not allowing myself even a moment away from Twitch, I run and Happy follows. He yells out, “What happened?”

  I shout back, “He’s been shot. In the neck.”

  When we reach him, my rapidly beating heart stills. He’s not moving. Happy runs right to his side and lifts him. I see the bullet hole in his neck. With every beat of his heart, more blood is pumped out of his body and onto the sidewalk. Happy says, “C’mon, man! Wait! Just wait! Twitch! Wake up!” Happy shakes him and he stirs.

  Pulling out his cell phone, Happy dials and says, “Gunshot wound to the neck. Losing a lot of blood. He’s barely conscious.” He rattles off the address while Twitch and I stare into one another’s eyes.

  He murmurs, “Too stubborn to die, babe. You know that.”

  I do know that. At least, that’s what I choose to believe right now.

  Blurry-eyed, I whisper unconvincingly, “Okay.”

  He forces a smile and says weakly, “Had worse wounds than this one.” His eyes flutter. “Tell me what we’re naming our baby.”

  I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to distract me.

  The bullet hole oozes thick blood and I stand there, petrified, but unable to look away. He whispers, “Baby, look at me. In my eyes. You know I love when you see me.”

  Blinking through my tears, I tell him, “I haven’t thought of names. It’s too early.”

  He half-smiles. “Maybe we’ll do it together when I’m better, yeah?”

  I reply immediately, “Yes. Okay, honey.”

  The sounds of sirens blaring along with red and white flashing lights stall my happy thoughts. Hands come to my shoulders, and when I look up at the paramedic, I see his mouth moving but the words don’t reach me. The blood roaring in my ears has me temporarily deaf. Fear has me immobilized. Then Twitch is being loaded into the back of the ambulance, smiling at me faintly. Happy jumps in with him and yells out to me, “Meet us at the hospital, Lexi.”

  Nodding through a torrent of tears, I order shakily, “Don’t die, okay?”

  He responds as firmly as he can, “Gonna be okay.”

  And he says this so fiercely that I believe him.

  I believe him.

  Five years later…

  Waking in the morning to something wriggling at the foot of the bed, I smile sleepily.

  “What on earth is that? Is there a monster in my bed?” I try my best to sound horrified.

  The hysterical giggling is enough to give him away, though.

  In one swift movement, I pull back the covers and roar like a lion. AJ squeals, completely giddy before jumping into my arms.

  I wrap him up tight and rock him, placing kisses on his forehead.

  Spotting something on his hands, I double take and choke a laugh in my throat before I ask, “Sweetie, what happened to your hands?”

  Looking up, he smiles, and I catch my second laugh at the gap made by the missing top two front teeth.

  I know he’s my child but, by God, he is adorable.

  He points to the backs of his hands and explains, “I’m like Daddy.”

  Checking his hands again, I look closely at the marker drawings all over his hands.

  No one ever accused him of not loving his daddy.

  Speaking of which, we need to get up.

  The two of us live alone in a three bedroom home on the outskirts of Sydney.

  Living with Twitch is not an option.

  I quit my job as a caseworker and now proudly wear the title of stay at home mom to my four-and-a-half year old, black-haired, brown-eyed baby boy.

  And he’s so much like Twitch it’s scary.

  Same looks. Same attitude. Same everything.

  Sometimes I wonder if this kid is even a little bit mine.

  Knowing Twitch, his sperm probably got to my womb and decided he was going to do the whole baby thing on its own. The stubbornness must be in the genes, because AJ has it too.

  Being a single mom isn’t always easy, but when I look at my son, I couldn’t picture my life without him. He’s completely worth it. And he means everything to me.

  Placing one last kiss on his head, I tell him, “C’mon, sweetie. Time to get ready. We’re seeing your dad today.”

  He jumps up and shouts, “Woohoo!” Then takes off like a rocket down the hall to the bathroom. I hear the water start and I know he’s brushing what’s left of his loose teeth.

  Chuckling to myself, I get out of bed, stretch, and start getting ready.

  AJ runs down the hall wearing a tee and underwear; looking panicked, he asks, “What do I wear?”

  Dipping my chin, I hold back my laughter.

  Twitch.

  Total Twitch-ism right there. The day he starts telling people to ‘Dress nice’, I’ll have a heart attack.

  Knowing he wants to dress nicely to see his dad, I tell him, “How about the black jeans and your Spiderman sweatshirt?”

  My son looks up at me wide-eyed in
awe as if I’m a genius, and without a word, runs back to his room. I hear things being thrown around and I can’t stop it.

  I quietly laugh while shaking my head.

  He comes back out all dressed and I say, “There! You look great, honey.” And he does.

  Then I spot his hands still messed up with marker, I suggest, “Maybe we should wash those hands, though.”

  AJ gasps dramatically, “Mum, I have to show dad!”

  And that settles it. How can I argue with that?

  I quickly dress and call out, “C’mon, AJ. Let’s go.”

  He follows me out the door and we’re off.

  AJ tells me to wait at my normal spot while he talks to Twitch, loud and animated.

  Pretending to read, I sit on the bench and watch as AJ shows him his ‘tattoos’ and some of his new toys. His new favorite being a Buzz Lightyear doll he got just last week.

  AJ plays spaceman for a little while, then he sits in front of his dad and talks his ear off some more.

  When a half-hour passes, my chest squeezes.

  Reluctantly, I approach them and ask AJ, “Hey bud, you mind if I speak to your dad alone for a little while?”

  AJ doesn’t look happy, but he mutters, “Okay.”

  I tell him, “Stay where I can see you, baby.”

  He moves to sit at the bench where I normally wait, and I turn to Twitch.

  “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” I ask.

  But, as per usual, the shiny white headstone doesn’t respond.

  And my heart aches.

  The day I tried to leave and Twitch got shot, he spent a week in an induced coma before finally fading away.

  And it was hard.

  It’s always hard losing someone you love. But this was harder.

  It was harder because we fought.

  It was harder because I told him Michael’s death was all his fault.

  It was harder because I’d just found out I was pregnant.

  It was also harder because I had two deaths to mourn.

  Michael and Twitch.

  I took leave from work indefinitely, but decided in the end that I am now too damaged to want to help other damaged people. It was selfish, but I had to do what was best for me.