by C C Monroe
“He sure is.” She winks, rubbing my back as we hit the hardwood floor at the bottom of the stairs. I’m dressed in a pair of dark skinny jeans and a blush silk tank. I just need to throw on my leather jacket and I can head out the door. I wore my makeup a little darker and styled my hair in loose messy waves, dressing up a bit for our first date night in weeks.
“Where’s Daddy?” I ask, stepping into my blush suede heels.
“He wanted to run to the store to grab some things, and then he was going to get some pizza.”
“Oh, that will be fun. Little date night for Mama and Daddy too.” I wink and she shakes her head.
“You’re my daughter for sure. Now hurry up and get going. You drive safe and have fun with that hunky man of yours.” Now giving me a wink, she turns to head to the kitchen.
“Will do. Bye, Mama.”
She waves over her shoulder, and I hurry to reapply some lip-gloss. I take one last look in the mirror, muss up my hair, and then hurry toward the door.
There is a knock on the door, and I curse under my breath. Shit, I’m already late. Grabbing my jacket from the coat rack, I open the door in a mess, hollering for my mother so she can deal with the visitors, because I haven’t even had time to call Kings to tell him I’ll be late.
“Mama! Can you come—” I stop dead in my tracks when the face on the other side of my now open door stuns me.
“Did you miss me, baby?”
“Joel?” I forgot the face of the devil and just how real he can be in the flesh, and now, without warning, I am looking him dead in his lifeless brown eyes.
“Glad to see you haven’t forgotten my name after all these years of you fucking around on me while I’ve been locked away because of you,” he hisses with a hellish smirk. I gulp, frozen and unsure what to do. This is a dream. It has to be. How is he here?
“Baby, what is i— Lana!” My mother gasps when she stops in her tracks, seeing what I was hoping was a mirage.
We all stay still for a minute, my eyes glued to Lucifer himself as his eyes roam over my body, making me feel sick. My heart has stopped, dropping to my stomach, and my body has gone cold. Lifeless.
I finally find enough strength in my shaking hand to move hastily. I hurry to shut the door, when he stops me. Shoving the door open with his strong hand and large boot, he gains control and I fall back, unprepared, losing my heels as I do. He slams the door, and the sound of my mother screaming and moving toward me finally awakens me fully.
Prince. My son. My only mission.
“Mom! Stop, go upstairs, and lock the door! Prince!” I scream, my eyes on Joel towering over me. He looks just like he did all those years ago, just more sinister, more dead inside than before. His tattoos are now dull, his brown hair is hidden behind his snapback, and those boots...they’re the same boots he wore the night he almost killed me. The twisted, sick man wore those boots to finish the job they started. I don’t hear my mother move or say anything, but I hear a thud.
Looking over to see if she left, I see her body lying face down behind me, but what catches my eyes fast is the woman standing behind her.
Hilary?
Two ghost from my troubled past. Two key components in the most damaging part of Kingston’s and my life.
“Mama!” I roll over and drop my head to hers, crying with my cheek against hers. She’s limp, and I can see the blood coming from the backside of her head. I sob harder, but find a flicker of hope when I feel her breath against my nose.
“Mama, wake up, please!” I reach in my back pocket to grab my phone, and as it leaves my jeans, I wail out in pain, my calf burning under the pressure of Joel’s boot. “Please stop! I promise I will do whatever. Just get my mother help!” I look up at him, once again his victim begging for mercy at his feet.
“She’s an obstacle. Hopefully she just bleeds out,” he growls deep in his chest. “Hilary, watch her. If she wakes up, take her out,” he barks, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling me from the ground.
I scream, my leg shaking from him trying to crush it. “Joel! Stop!”
“Shut the fuck up. We are going to play a little game.” He drags me up the stairs, and I panic more, not for myself, but because with each heavy footstep of his, we get closer to my son, and I can’t let him do that.
“Please,” I beg, even while knowing it’s pointless.
“Shut up! I won’t tell you again, bitch!” Joel grasps my hair tighter and gives a violent shake as we reach the landing at the top of the stairs. I swear I feel my brain rattle.
I stay silent, knowing from experience what happens if I fight more, and I have to keep Prince safe. I have to protect my unborn child. All it would take is one hit to my stomach, and I will lose everything.
He throws me on the bed, and I wait for him to bind me down, but it doesn’t come as I shake violently face down on the mattress, unable to contain my tremors as I listen to him pace around like a lion stalking a poor, defenseless animal.
“You look so fucking pretty messed up like that. Face down, crying for me,” he growls, stopping just to the side of me, his boots making the hardwood creak.
“What—what do you want?” I stutter.
“Oh, sweetie, what do I want? You must have forgotten just who I am to you, pet. I fucking own you, and I told you I would never let you leave unless your blood was on my hands and your heart wasn’t beating.”
I let out another sob, knowing this is it. He came back to finish me, just like I always worried he would. My crying wolf was finally a reality.
“Joel, I’ll leave with you. Let’s go. Just take me and call someone to help my mother.”
“I’m not fucking stupid. Don’t play the sudden damsel. I’m not here to take you back, baby.” His words are daunting, a glimpse into the hell I’m about to endure. “Turn over, whore!” he barks, and I jump, turning fast. That’s when I see the shiny knife in his large hand. I scream as he straddles me and holds the knife to my throat. The image of him above me with the blade brings me back to that night all those years ago, where he carved that scar into my skin. But what’s worse is not only am I slipping into a flashback, but I’m currently in the present, being attacked in the same way again.
“You still have that pretty little scar I gave you? My mark.” He goes to rip my top and I react, screaming, pushing him away. It’s a failed attempt, and the more I struggle, the more he fights me back. As he slaps me in the face and brings the knife to my neck once again, I try to grab at it, but he slices the palm of my hand before I can fully get a handle.
“Ahh!” I scream, and he grabs my hands, slamming them down at my sides and pushing his knees in the center of them. I almost pass out from the pain of his strong knee digging into my fresh cut. I want to scream but I can’t. The pain has me in shock, the blood pouring from me, making my head dizzy. My left arms starts to go numb from the blood loss, and my eyes feel heavy.
“One,” I choke out, trying to bring myself back. I squeeze my eyes shut and remember what I have been taught.
“What are you doing? Shut up!” He uses the knife and rips through the fabric of my shirt, right down the middle, where it falls open and exposes my lacy bra and chest to his eyes. Growling, he drags the cool edge of the now bloody knife down the center of my breast.
“So fucking beautiful. Your blood on your soft, tan skin, such a sight.” He inhales deeply, as if trying to breath in the scent of me bleeding. I want to vomit.
“T-two,” I stutter on a full body shiver.
“Shut up! How many fucking times do I have to tell you, bitch?” He slaps my cheek hard, the burn lingering for long seconds. I don’t speak again, already hurt more than what I can handle. I’m losing blood too fast, and I can’t get my heart rate to settle.
He waits a moment to make sure I’m done, and when I don’t say anything else and my heavy tears fall, he starts again. “Now, let’s have some fun, shall we?”
Knowing I have to play along or suffer another injury, one bad enou
gh to possibly hurt my child, I nod.
“Good.” Pulling my phone from my pocket, he messes with it for a few seconds. “Here we go.”
The sound of ringing comes from the speakerphone, and I look around the room, trying to avoid his gaze. Taking it upon himself, he grips my cheeks and brings my eyes to him. Joel’s mouth opens to speak, but before he can, I hear the voice of my savior.
“Lana, mama, you’re late. Where are you?”
“K—Kings!” I cry, trying to shake my head back and forth, but Joel’s hand is too tight.
“Baby! What’s wrong?”
“She’s fine. Just a little emotional over my homecoming,” Joel cuts in, and I sob, pinching my eyes closed.
“You motherfucker!” Kingston yells into the phone a brief second later.
“It’s been a while, but don’t worry. I’m here to take back what’s mine. But what kind of monster would I be if I didn’t let you get a goodbye?” he responds sarcastically, tracing my neck with the edge of the blade, not enough to break skin, but enough to feel as if he did.
“You let her go, Joel! Now! Don’t you fucking hurt her!” Kingston barks, but I hear the thick cloud of fear in his every word. My heart officially snaps in two, because I can feel him inside my soul. I can feel his heart breaking. My protector, my king knows this is it. He isn’t here this time, and I will be long gone before he even has a chance to make it here.
“Kingston, baby, listen to me.” Calling him baby earns me a backhand to the cheek. I wail, my body jerking, trying to break my hands free so I can touch the pained skin.
“Lana! Fuck, baby!” he screams, and I only cry harder.
“I don’t like the way this is going at all. My little nice streak is over. Say bye now, pretty little slut,” Joel spits in my face, and I close my eyes, knowing this is the last thing I will ever get to say to my love.
“I love you, Kingston. I love you all. I’m sorry, and know that you saved me. You brought me back to life,” I cry.
And with that, he speedily replies, “Don’t you let him win, bab—”.
Before he can finish, Joel throws the phone, and it makes a deafening sound as it shatters against the wall. The final goodbye and I didn’t get to hear his last I love you—the three words so often used by habit, but for me it was my life saver in the darkest hours.
“I thought that was gonna be fun, but you just pissed me off. You don’t fucking love him, you stupid bitch! I know it!” he yells in my face, dropping the knife and grabbing hold of my neck.
Closing my eyes, I wait to see Kingston in my head, flashing back to the night he saved me. I remember wishing Joel would kill me, just so I could not feel the pain anymore. I had imagined Kingston in my mind before I took my last breath.
Joel’s grip gets tighter on my neck and his voice starts to drown out as I float out of my body, into a place in my head where I see Kings, but unlike last time, he is not alone. Princeton is older, standing beside him, tears running down his face. He looks like Kingston, brown hair curly atop his head, green eyes rimmed in red from tears, his little dimples showing as he tries to fight the heavy emotions already taking control of him.
I see Kingston holding a little girl who looks like me, her head on his shoulder as they both cry. When I start to lose consciousness and it slips away slowly, I see two more figures approaching Kingston, two little boys with eyes like mine. They wear that same grief as they tangle themselves around Kingston. My family, I see them in my own heaven as I fight for my last few moments on earth. Princeton whispers “Mama,” and something overtakes me then. My body awakens, and all the strength I never knew I had fights back. Blinking rapidly, I kick, buck, heave, and push, not slowing down, my hands breaking free somehow, and the pain from the cut is minimal. So much adrenaline—too much to survive for.
“Be the survivor. Quit letting him win.” Kingston’s words echo as I fight, finally pushing Joel hard enough to have him fall flat on his back, off the side of the bed, and losing his breath from the impact. I keep moving, my body having a mind of its own as I grab the knife beside me. He coughs and slowly tries to stand, but I’m faster. Reaching into Kingston’s nightstand, I find his gun, keeping my arm firmly extended with the knife facing Joel.
“Get up, coward!” I scream, spit leaving my mouth, my blood running hotly down my arm and onto my ripped shirt. “Now!” Now towering over him with a gun and knife in my hands, my gun training comes back to memory. With steady hands, I flip off the safety on the silver-and-black weapon.
He stands slowly, his hands in the air as he comes to his full height. “Don’t you do it, baby.”
“Do not call me that! I’m not yours!” I back up as he does, waiting for him to make a move, knowing who he is well enough to know he will try to gain control again.
“You don’t have the fucking guts. You’re the coward.”
With that, my son’s loud cries come from the other room and it fuels the darker side of me. With a sly grin, I shake my head. “Try me.” He looks over his shoulder toward Prince’s room. “Look at me!” I draw his eyes away from the baby’s room and they form tight slits, his jaw clenching.
“Oh, Lana, you really have no idea what you’re doing. You’re only pissing me off more. You should know better.”
“Don’t you try to fucking threaten me now, damn it! I have this gun aimed straight at you! I’m in control now!” I’m not the old Lana. I’m someone new in her flesh and bones, the victim waiting to break free.
“What are you going to do? Shoot me?”
“I’ll send you straight to hell where you came from,” I seethe, my eyes boring into him.
“And if you miss, I will just kill you, and then I’ll walk right into that room.” He points to Princeton’s room and I rage. Going black, the room round him shakes like an earthquake in my brain.
“Shut up! You will never fucking touch my family!” I take strong, unafraid steps toward him, and for the first time, I see him cower back in fear, but he hurries to mask it.
“Come on, baby. You know you can’t hurt me. You love me, angel.” He changes his tune, and I physically twitch, on the verge of complete psychosis.
“I never loved you. It was him, and it will always be him. Forever. And you will never touch him or what is ours. You will never have any part of me.”
“Oh, but don’t I?” he challenges. “Don’t I still haunt your nightmares? Don’t I still mar your fucking skin? Do I not make you afraid of the fucking dark!” His voice is deafening, and Prince screams louder. I hear noises downstairs and he smirks, the sound of fast steps bounding up the stairs. Hilary had to have heard us, and I prepare for her entrance as I keep the gun on him, my eyes never leaving him.
I can’t show him fear. I won’t. I have to protect my life, my family.
“Lana!” I hear Trey and then see him take up the doorway with his gun pointed. I swallow, and for a brief moment, I falter, thankful I’m not alone, that my best friend is here. Another best friend who has come to save me. But this time, I won’t let them. I will save myself.
“Lana!” He points his gun at Joel.
I yell, “No! Do not touch him! You will never win again. I promise, I no longer fear you!” I sob and shake, blinking my eyes as Joel laughs. I fall weak for a moment, feeling everything inside me from all these years leaving me.
“You are a weakling. You always will be, and you always fucking have been, bitch!” With that, he advances on me, taking my moment of weakness and running with it. Trey yells, and everything happens faster than I have time to process. I hear the deafening sound of a gun, and I close my eyes, bracing myself for the impact of Joel and the last breath of my life. My eyes stay shut, but the impact never comes, and the sickening sound of a heavy body hitting the floor has my eyes opening slowly.
Everything moves in slow motion. Trey moving to me. The blue-and-red lights outside the window reflecting on the walls as the sound of sirens fill my ears. Joel lies on the ground in a pool of his own bloo
d, and I drop my hand slowly.
“Lana, hey! You in there?” Trey’s voice tunnels back in. Slowly, through teary eyes, I find his ice-blue ones.
“What...what happened?” I stutter.
“You shot him, babe,” Trey whispers, pulling me into his arms and consoling me. I don’t respond, but my eyes stay focused on Joel over Trey’s bicep. I shot him? I don’t know why, but guilt overtakes me. I never wanted to hurt anyone, and even though I had to defend myself and he has hurt me more times to count, I still feel consumed with shame.
“Is he...? Is he...?” I stutter, sobbing into his chest.
“I don’t know, but we need to get you out of here. Come on.” He tucks me into his side and we step around Joel’s body, and before we clear the room, I take one look back, the last time I will ever look back at my past. I defeated the enemy. Dead or not, I defeated the biggest villain in my life, the demon who possessed me all these years.
Grabbing Princeton from his bed, I cradle him in my arms and we make our way downstairs. I never once let my firm grip on him loosen. He’s safe and alive. I protected him and fought for him. He’s here, I remind myself over and over again.
The next few minutes pass in a blur. Cops come barreling through the door. Hilary is being pulled from the ground, where I’m assuming she was knocked out from a brisk encounter with Trey. And then like a flicker of hope, my mama stirs to life, being taken out on a gurney shortly after.
They try to take my son from me to check on my injuries, but I don’t let them. I need him. I need my boy. I cry as I rock him in my arms. He innocently watches all the lights from the police cruisers and ambulances as my father and Kingston come speeding up to the house. I feel my heart pitter-pattering desperately in my chest, and the two big men I love come running toward me, Shayla just behind them seconds later.