Abrupt

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by Kathy Coopmans


  “My arms were made to hold you.”

  She says nothing, but I feel the weight of her slight smile. There’s nothing else I can do except hold her while we wait. It’s the worst feeling in the world not being able to take away her pain.

  Pure torture.

  Burrowing my face into her hair, I close my eyes and breathe her in. I’m waiting for her to ask for her phone, but the question never comes. I don’t know how long we lie here, but eventually, her breathing evens out, and I know she’s drifted off to sleep. Rolling over, I reach for her phone, tuck it under my pillow and turn back to hold her as close as possible.

  Guilt. I feel it as I start to drift into a deep needed sleep knowing we’ll have a blow-up in the morning. That’ll be the perfect time to bring up the reasons why I love her.

  A little while later, I jolt awake, blinking hard a few times, waiting for the dark room to come into focus. With nothing but the moonlight filtering in through the window, I can see that her side of the bed is empty. With a feel of my hand, I determine it’s also cold. Sitting up, I flick on the light, slide my hand under my pillow to find her phone still there.

  “Sienna,” I holler, slipping on my jeans, running through the house, panic ringing in my ears when I can’t find her anywhere.

  Where is she and why would she leave without her phone. She’d wake me in an angered frenzy to get her hands on that thing.

  Unless she played me for a fool, and Joseph already called her.

  Motherfucker.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sienna

  An instinct. They are, at times, so hard to explain. For days the one settled in my stomach has been guiding my very existence. Or, maybe it’s the part of my healed heart that will forever live in pain, reminding me if I listen and it’s wrong, everything in my chest will hurt forever.

  I don’t know, except I chose to follow it to listen to my inner voice, and it led me to the rooftop of the restaurant.

  If it’s right, then Joseph has known what I’d been up to, where I work, live, and who I’ve been with as I suspected all along, and I hope he’s been biding his time for that perfect opportunity to catch me off guard.

  It’s a dangerous game to play when many lives are at stake. The only weapon I have if this were to backfire in my face is I’m not the woman I used to be with Joseph. He’s going to think that one look at him will jar back years of abuse, he’s going to threaten me with Luca. He’s going to touch me, and I’m going to obey. The mere thought of Joseph putting his hands on me after what he’s done to those girls doesn’t come close to having him touch me after Lane has.

  It’s a sad thing to admit and swallow.

  It’s going to feel like choosing death over the man I fell in love with quicker than when my father taught me how to ride a bike.

  Joseph will rape me, beat me, and punish me, but he will never own the part of me he covets the most. He will never have my heart.

  “Please don’t let it get that far. Please give us a miracle here. Let us get caught at the border.” I nearly double over and let the buckets of tears fall when I feel the ghost of Lane’s hands, the warmth of his breath glide over my skin. It will linger on me forever.

  I straighten my spine. I have to take this as far as I can to save Luca, and now there are young women involved. Even if their lives are never the same again, I need to help them the only way I can.

  To escape.

  Lane knew it might come to this. I led him to believe it wouldn’t. I don’t know what my chances are of him forgiving me. Slim to none. But he’ll never turn his back on our son. I’ve said and known that since the day I found out I was pregnant. I will cling to that belief, along with my hope until I figure out a way to demolish Joseph’s plan to work with the traffickers of drugs and sex slaves in Mexico. I cannot allow my son to be brainwashed into degrading women.

  Fighting past the lump in my throat, I try to talk to Luca. This time I’m afraid if I try to speak, I won’t be able to keep my sobs silent any longer. That’s the last thing I want Joseph to hear if he were to show up. So I stand here, with my heart breaking, wearing the mask I’ve worn for years without making a sound.

  I placed that appalling mask back over my face days ago, and so many times, as Seth shadowed me, it nearly slipped out of place.

  I wanted it to fall to the floor and smash to smithereens so everyone could see for the time being I’d given up on hope. So they could see how I was barely able to breathe. It never did until I slipped out the door, scaled alongside the house, and ran until I knew the coast was clear. From there, I walked for what seemed like miles until I was able to hail down a cab, and the minute I stepped out of it and onto the curb, I secured it back in place.

  That was an hour or so ago and still nothing from Joseph. If he doesn’t show soon, there’ll be nothing left in me, not one more day.

  “I’m right here, Joseph. All alone, where the hell are you?” I whisper. “Where is my son?”

  He needs to get here before someone figures out where I am. If I had one wish granted to me right now, it’s that they aren’t awake yet, and the thought of Lane, Seth, my father or anyone showing before Joseph scares me more than having him touch me because my husband will be trigger-happy and shoot anyone on sight to get what he wants.

  As soon as the thought crossed my mind to come here the other day, I knew it was my desperation calling. So I moved through the days on autopilot. Working and keeping the same expression around everyone. Pretending I was okay when I’m anything remotely close.

  I’m desperate, reckless, and what I’m doing is risky. Joseph could kill me, and Luca could be lost in the world forever.

  I don’t know what else to do.

  And I left without making peace with my father. Oh, God, he’s never going to forgive himself.

  Panic sets in when I sense I’m not alone—my heart slams into my ribs. Emotion burns my eyes as the footsteps coming from behind me get closer. My nerves had already been prepared and wired, and now they shoot off like a flare.

  I don’t know if I want to smile that he’s here or cry.

  “I know the sound of your feet, I’ve heard them for years. One foot lands heavier than the other. You have this walk that lets people know you are a man of power and strength. I’d be glad to show you how to sneak up on someone the right way if you’d like.” There’s no sarcasm coming from me, no wanting to turn around and yell and scream. It’ll do me no good and make matters worse than they already are.

  “Sweetheart, I can be as quiet as a mouse if I have to be. Like all the times I stood above you and watched you sleep when you were a little girl. I used to stare down at you with wonder at what good I did to deserve you—my precious angel. Sienna, you are the only thing good in my life. With that, you gave me a grandson. Even though what you thought you were going to do by coming here was out of emptiness inside you. It was not a wise move. I’m proud of you for it. It shows I did one thing right raising you. But as your father, I can’t have you sacrifice your life without sacrificing my own.” His tone is soft, thick with emotion.

  My father hides his soft side well. It’s wide open at the moment. A vulnerability I’m afraid to turn around and see.

  Swallowing hard, I release a slow breath, shake my head and take a step back, squinting my eyes as I watch the glowing white of the moon give off light in the inky sky.

  “I used to watch Luca sleep too. I’d give anything to watch him again. I love you.” I don’t know what else to say. My father isn’t going to leave. Joseph might have decided to torture me mentally for the rest of my life and not show. I should have brought my phone. I left it for Lane in hopes that if Joseph did show, he wouldn’t have Luca with him, allowing him to find a way to call, and he could save himself and those girls.

  My father wraps his arms around me. I close my eyes and drop my head back against his shoulder.

  “I love you more. So much more than the way I treated you. Forgive me.” He’s in so much
pain. I hear it even when he tries to hide it.

  “I already have.” I surrender a sad smile, wanting so badly to turn around and let my father hold me. I can’t seem to move. The emotions inside me have drained me dry.

  “I would have done the same thing you were planning on doing if someone took you away from me. Grief and desperation make us do crazy things. When Lane called, in a panic, I must add, the first thing that ran through my mind besides getting to you before Joseph did was, I never told my daughter that she is more like her mother than she is me. Sacrificing takes courage, Sienna, and if my child is willing to give up her life to be with her son, then who am I to stand in her way. But what kind of father would that make me be if I let her go? Not the type I promised her mother after she sacrificed her life to save yours.”

  He isn’t helping contain my tears. They fall freely for so many reasons I can’t express. If I ask if Lane is here, the numbness around my heart will subside. Lane is my life as much as I’m his.

  He’s my salvation. My anchor. The other half of my soul. Without him, I’m numb. He loves me, and neither of us came out and said those three words in the right way.

  God, I’ve made so many mistakes.

  “I don’t know how to go on without Luca any longer. I don’t know anything anymore. I’m tired of Joseph controlling my family. Of hurting everyone I love. I want this to be over. Why can’t this be over. I tried so hard to let Lane be enough to get me through this. He’s not enough. No one is. I love you, him, Lexi, everyone with all that I have, but I can’t live without my son any longer. I can’t do it anymore, father. I’m dying a little more every day inside. My veins feel strangled; my heart is bleeding. I’m so scared I’ll never see Luca again. I just want him back.” I’m trying so hard not to fall to my knees and sob, but I’m falling apart. The last thread is flying away.

  “Joseph isn’t coming. The sun is going to rise soon. He won’t show when it’s light out.” No. My predator husband likes to strike in the dark.

  He wants to clip my wings to ensure I never take flight.

  “This is all my fault. Everything everyone is feeling is my fault. The torturous pain that won’t ease and let us be.” I will never find that woman I had a tiny glimpse of while facing Yves and Zackery again. She will be lost forever without Luca. A floating feather that briefly touches the ground before once again being swept away.

  “You’re right, wife, it is your fault. The death of your father’s will rest on your shoulders, the same as Luca’s, the same as Matteo. I hated killing Matteo. I kind of like the loyal fucker. When we leave, baby, don’t look at him, there’s a knife stuck in his throat. The poor schmuck is bleeding like a stuck pig. Bastard didn’t even squeal. Hands out to the side and step away from her, Lorenzo. Sienna, if you don’t get your ass over here where you belong by the time I count to three, I will shoot our son right here.”

  The muscles in my father’s arm tense and tighten around me, and he growls at Joseph’s word.

  “You’re lying. You’ve always been a liar. Luca isn’t with you. He would have warned me before you even came through the door.”

  Luca is not with him. I know this in the deepest part of my heart. He would yell, no matter what.

  “Shoot me then, that’s the only way you’ll get her out of my hands. Rest assured, you won’t make it two steps out the door before your blood splatters the sidewalk.” Anger escalates the emotion in my father’s words. I pinch my eyes shut as he turns around to face my ruin in the eye while grabbing one of my hands and squeezing to the point it hurts.

  Mistakes. If anything happens to my father, I won’t live through this one either. I will surrender to my unwanted death.

  “You can’t do this, Father. I won’t survive if anything happens to you. I lost one parent this way, please don’t make it both.” God, where is Uncle Gabe. Seth, Aidan? The rest of the security? Joseph is one man, he can’t kill them all. Unless he already has. Oh, God, what have I done?

  “Hmm. You’re right. I am a liar. Release my wife, Lorenzo. One.”

  A gunshot pings off the floor at my feet.

  “Let me go, Father, please!”

  He doesn’t. Another gunshot goes off. My father slumps forward—both of us falling to the floor with him landing on top of me.

  Blood soaks through my shirt, my father gasping for air.

  He doesn’t ask me to believe in hope. He doesn’t tell me to be strong.

  He says nothing at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Luca

  My mom told me a lot of times I could be whatever I wanted when I grew up. I just shrugged and said, ‘I know’ while I rolled my eyes and went back to doing whatever I was doing. Most of the time, it was playing video games, working out math problems, or practicing on my tight spiral throw with my football. I still can’t figure out how to get that throw right. I’m going to figure it out just as I’m going to figure how gravity can slow that sucker down to make it spiral around as many times as it does.

  I haven’t held a football since before I learned the kind of person my dad, who isn’t even my real dad, was. I have to stop thinking about him as my dad. Joseph is a monster. Way worse than the ones I’ve seen on movies, my mom would go crazy if she knew I snuck and watched them on television.

  Let me tell you, I’m not even mad at my mom for keeping it from me, not after the things I’ve seen and heard. Things I never want to tell my mom, no matter how much she tries prying it out of me.

  I don’t know what I’m going to be when I grow up or why I’m sitting here wondering about it. I know for sure I won’t be a man like Joseph. If I’m going to hurt someone, they’ll deserve it.

  Like him.

  He should have someone do to him what he’s done to these teenage girls.

  Chewing on my lip, I look out the window wondering why my mom is in Texas. Joseph said she got a job at a restaurant. Well, he didn’t tell me that. I overheard him telling Yves. That’s how I found out Lane Mitchell is my real dad.

  The monster named Joseph doesn’t know I know these things. I heard all about my real dad one night when I snuck out of my room, and from what I put together, Lane doesn’t know about me. That makes me mad at Joseph even more for hurting my mom.

  I wonder if Lane likes football and if I go to him like my mom said, will he watch me play? I wonder if he likes math the way I do. Maybe he loves another sport better, and he might teach me. I wonder if he lives here, and that’s why my mom came to Texas. I don’t know, but the man I imagined in my head wouldn’t hurt my mom the way Joseph did.

  A squeaking sound coming from the back has me turning around and pointing the gun Joseph placed in my hand toward the noise. He told me to shoot the girls if they tried to escape. I didn’t want the gun. I didn’t want to shoot anyone but him. I want my mom. He said he was going to get her. But I don’t want her anywhere near him ever again.

  He hurt her, and she’s probably worried sick about me too.

  I hate him.

  I stare at the girls slumped on the floor of the van. Hands and feet tied together with thick heavy chains. Black hoods Joseph had me place over their eyes when we stepped out of the crappy motel are covering their heads. Why I had to do that, I’ll never know, these girls never make a sound, they never look at me. But I know they are scared. I know they’ve had terrible things happened to them, and I know I have to get them out of here.

  Eight of us slept, showered, and ate in that room for days, and I watched them like a hawk. They sweated, they shook, and they shivered. They sat like dogs on the floor. Shoving food in their mouths like they were starving, and they look it. Skin and bones and eyes that seem too big for their faces.

  They slept on the dirty carpet floor—my dad, I mean Joseph, and I each had a bed. I barely slept.

  And, just like the girls, I never said a word. I haven’t spoken since I woke to find myself in the very spot that they are. I wasn’t tied up or beaten like I’ve seen my dad, Yves, Zackery,
and Xander do to these girls.

  Yves, who I learned, is an evil man just like Joseph, tried getting me to talk. He would lick his lips when he looked at me. One time he touched my leg, but Joseph told him he was never to lay a finger on me again. I’m not sure why Joseph yelled at him. All I knew was Yves isn’t a good man.

  I played dumb the entire time like I was in shock or something. I kept my mouth shut, ears and eyes open, waiting for the minute to do the one thing my mom told me to do. She said run, Luca, and I have to run. I’m afraid to leave these girls in case Joseph comes back. He will hurt them more than he has. He might even kill them.

  Some of the things I heard I don’t think I can repeat to anyone ever in my life. I want my mom and me to start over. She promised we would. Maybe with my real dad. He has to be a good man, or she wouldn’t have told me to get to him.

  We haven’t seen Yves, Zackery, or Xander for a while now. I hope my grandpa and Uncle Gabe found all three of them and killed them.

  I wasn’t starved or screamed or hurt either. I was left alone in a room and played video games, watched movies, and became very, very angry, wishing I had a phone to call my mom. I wanted to tell her I was okay. I wanted to tell her I was going to find a way to get these girls and me away from the bad men. I wanted to tell her I didn’t cry once. Not even when Joseph said she was dead.

  He’s stupid if he thinks I believe that. He’s even dumber for trusting that he has me scared enough that I won’t get help.

  I swallow, open the door to the van, and I run like my mom told me to.

  I’m going to protect her from the monster and save these girls.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lane

  “I said, turn around and walk, son. You might have gone mute on me, Luca. I know damn well you can hear. I gave you an order to stay with those girls. You better hope for your sake; they are still there. If they aren’t, I will shoot you, drag you back here and lay you next to your grandpa’s body. I should say the hell with you and do it anyway. You were a pain in the ass to keep safe from Yves. You’ll be an even bigger one trying to get you to do what I tell you once we get to Mexico. Now hand me the gun, son. If you don’t, I’ll break your throwing arm.”

 

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