I’m not wearing any underwear. ;)
She slid it back over and thought she saw a slight lift of Sean’s lips before he closed his eyes and ran his hand over the back of his neck.
“You think this is funny?” Sean growled. “I’ll go ahead and show you. Then you’re not going to think it’s so funny.”
He slapped the top of the laptop down and tossed it to the chair, then pulled the blanket off the bed, sending it flying to the ground in a floating heap. Abby scooted back and began to pull her legs up in a protective position, but the pain from her hip forced her to sit still.
“Don’t flinch,” Sean said, then lifted her nightgown up from her thighs. He was wearing his prosthetic hand, and his motions were tense and jerky.
The fact that he was bearing her nakedness without reservation should have bothered her, but Sean had seen it all before. She did glance towards the door, hoping that there wouldn’t be any intrusions, but knew that Sean wanted her to see the injury for some reason.
“Hold on,” Sean said, then reached to the bedside stand and retrieved a fresh vomit bag. He handed it to her before loosening the gauze on the wound.
She’d seen horror upon horror the past several years. Surely a few stitches weren’t enough to make her vomit. But when the last layer of bandage was finally removed, Abby was thankful that he’d handed her the bag.
Her stomach clenched continuously until she was dry heaving. There was nothing left to come up, but her system didn’t seem to believe it. Eventually, the heaving turned into sobs, and the sobs into a quiet stream of tears that dripped down her face, into Sean’s arms.
It was a tattoo. A tattoo of one word.
REVENGE
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE
SHE woke up the next day, having been convinced the previous night by her parents that she needed a sedative. Sean was gone, and Mom sat perched next to her bed, peering through her reading glasses at several layers of paperwork on a small table in front of her. It reminded her of years ago, after the attack… the first attack, when Mom would sit for hours on end, tending to her needs, trying to get her to eat, and praying.
“Mom?”
Slipping the glasses off, Mom pushed the table aside and enveloped Abby in a hug. “Oh, my baby. How are you?”
“I’m good,” Abby said. She was so much different from the Abby of the past. The one that had stopped talking and shut herself off to the world. This new woman was so much stronger, able to withstand whatever the evils of life could throw at her. She smiled and watched as a tear tumbled down Mom’s cheek.
“You really are, aren’t you?” Mom said.
Abby nodded her head.
“Does it hurt?” She asked, motioning towards Abby’s hip.
“No. It’s kind of like a bad paper cut.” She didn’t want to admit the fact that it stung like thirty bees were attacking her.
“I talked to the plastic surgeons. They can’t remove it for several weeks. Your dad was furious, but it has something to do with how the ink absorbs into the skin.”
“It’s okay,” Abby said. “Maybe I’ll keep it.” She didn’t know why she said it, but it made sense. Throughout all that these people had done to her, she’d been scared and running. But now, she would no longer run. She would wear the tattoo with pride, letting them know that she was no longer afraid. That would be her revenge.
Mom laughed after a moment, considering it a joke. Abby didn’t let on that she was serious.
“Where’s Sean?”
Mom tipped her head in confusion. “He didn’t tell you?” she asked.
Abby shook her head.
“Well, then. I guess nobody knows. The nurse said that she kicked him out around ten last night and hadn’t seen him since. I thought maybe he told you where he was going.”
Abby tensed. He’d left her again. She should have known. The way he’d looked at her yesterday, knowing he’d failed to protect her. It was eating him up inside, and she was fully aware of how painful that was for him. “I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Abby said. “He just needs time to think.”
Mom grunted. “Soon for you and soon for Sean seem to be two very different things. Hopefully it won’t be months this time.”
Months was still better than seven years. Abby smiled. Mom understood.
Christmas came and went with no word from Sean, then Abby floated through the festivities of Veena’s wedding as if it were only part of a dream, or another nightmare. The bare skin on her ring finger screamed out at inopportune moments; as she drove to work alone, only followed by a nondescript security car, as she dabbed mascara on her lashes, wondering who she had to impress besides a man that wasn’t there, and as she had stood in front of hundreds of people, watching Veena and Spence declare their eternal love for each other. She wouldn’t let the hole inside her cause any more pain. The hole had been burrowed into her so many times, and each time it had once again been filled. Faith was holding her together as she focused only on tasks at hand, her internship, her bridesmaid duties, eating, sleeping, breathing. She could only direct herself to each step ahead of her, caught along an unclear path, not knowing where the dirt ended, and the choking vegetation began.
James continued to inform her that he was uncertain of Sean’s whereabouts. But Abby didn’t trust James anymore, and wouldn’t have been surprised if he and Sean had an ongoing dialogue over the days that progressed into weeks. She knew Sean would only come back when he was ready. That was how it always was.
On the first day of February, Abby finally received a note in the mail asking her to meet Sean for dinner on Valentine’s Day. The relief she felt was overwhelming. She carried the embossed note with her for the entire two weeks, turning it into a disintegrated crumple by the time Valentine’s Day arrived.
They would be dining at a new restaurant downtown. Dad refused to let her drive herself, and he had also insisted on a full reconnaissance of the restaurant before she arrived. It would have been embarrassing but for her excitement at seeing Sean again.
The restaurant was packed and smelled delicious. The security guard walked with her towards the hostess station but stood inconspicuously by the kitchen while she was seated in a corner booth.
Abby had expected Sean to be there already but seeing as how it was a Friday night and the traffic had been chaotic, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been thirty minutes late. Enjoying a glass of wine, she waited and glanced at her watch every few minutes. Then a text from an unknown number popped up on her phone. Abby knew exactly who it was from.
What are you wearing?
She smiled and texted back.
If you were here, you would know. Hurry up.
She waved at the waiter for another glass of wine as the next text came up.
I have something special I want to show you, but you have to do something for me first.
Abby glanced around the restaurant and felt her face burn with excitement. It was delightful to know that he’d finally gotten over his sour attitude. She needed this fun Sean back so desperately.
Whatever you ask, I will do.
When the waiter set her wine glass on the table, Abby almost jumped. She flipped the phone face down, worried that he would be suspect to whatever it was that Sean had on his mind.
“Would you like to enjoy an appetizer while you wait? The mussels come highly recommended.”
“No, my date should be here soon. Thank you though.”
The waiter nodded and strode off to another table.
Abby took a sip of wine before flipping the phone over to see Sean’s next message.
Go to the back of the restaurant, by the bathrooms. There is a stairwell to the left. Follow it up to the second floor, open the door marked Napa Terrace. Your surprise will be there.
Abby giggled with excitement, then took another drink before stepping away from the table. She was lightheaded from the alcohol, but figured she’d need it to get over her inhibitions. It was evident that Sean had s
omething special planned and she wouldn’t dare ruin it by being shy.
Before heading to the stairwell, Abby stopped to inform the security guard where she was going. He nodded and changed his location to the hallway near the bathrooms. It was within view of the stairs and Abby hoped he wouldn’t be seeing any lewd or lascivious behavior at the top.
Abby laughed, listening to the wine-talk in her mind as she walked up the stairs to an open hallway. There was an unfinished ballroom and several offices. A fourth door was labeled Napa Terrace. Abby smoothed her hair and fluffed her skirt before opening the door to a large balcony with three tables. Candles and string lights made it look like a fairyland, and the crisp, cool air of a North Florida January sent shivers down her spine. “Your surprise had better be a full coat, or I won’t be out here much longer,” she called out to wherever Sean had tucked himself.
A buzz on her phone indicated another message.
I brought you out here so you wouldn’t disturb the other diners when you scream.
Abby laughed and responded with tingles running through her system as she glanced around, wondering how he could see her. She texted back.
You already know that I’m not a screamer.
It took milliseconds for his response.
You will be when you see your surprise.
Open the box on the table, then reply your thoughts within ten seconds after opening.
Abby walked slowly to the table in the center of the balcony. There was a box about two feet long wrapped in red paper with a pink bow. She began to unwrap it slowly, wanting to relish the moment, but then she realized that the longer it took her to open it, the longer it would be before she saw Sean. By the time the paper was off, she was digging under the tough cardboard. Before she could release her prize, she saw writing on the cover of the box.
Do not tell your father what you see in here. It would be bad for both of us.
Abby blushed again. She couldn’t imagine. She finally released the stubborn cardboard and slid the item out of the box. It was then that she screamed.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOUR
WHEN the security guard entered from the stairwell, gun drawn, and looking for something to aim at, Abby blocked the horrific surprise on the table from his narrowed eyes. If he found out, he would report it to her father immediately. “I’m sorry. I just… saw a mouse. I’ll be down in a minute.”
He must have been stationed at the top of the stairs. That was the only way he would have been able to hear her pathetic, garbled scream and appear so quickly. He left the door ajar as he stepped back into the hallway. Abby turned back to the box, and to the prosthetic hand that sat next to it, covered in blood, with Abby’s engagement ring pressed tightly onto the pinky finger. Abby could see the stain of bloody fingerprint streaks along the silicone surface of the hand. Her heart was racing, and she was having trouble breathing.
The sound of her phone sent alert bells through her spine. It hadn’t been Sean at all. She hesitated to pick it up but needed to find out what was going on. She was no longer the scared girl of so many years ago. The tattoo on her skin gave her strength, along with a prayer of guidance. She looked down at the phone.
It’s been more than ten seconds.
Abby looked around the terrace, knowing that they must have some sort of camera set up, but it would be tucked out of sight. These guys had capabilities she couldn’t even fathom, it was useless for her to try to predict their next move. Instead, she texted back with every bit of anger in her system.
I’m pissed that you didn’t send me the rest of him.
Several moments passed while she prayed and attempted to gather strength. She would not allow herself to wonder if he was dead.
I didn’t send the rest of him because he is currently indisposed.
Abby felt her stomach crawl. The need for verification ate daggers through her spine. If Sean was dead, then none of this was worth it. She didn’t care what they did to her. She would go straight to James McCarren if she had to.
But if Sean was still alive…
How do I know he’s OK?
Several minutes passed and there was nothing. The security guard poked his head around the door with a questioning glance, but Abby waved her hand. “I’m fine. I’ll just be a minute.” She was surprised at how casual her tone was. It must be some sort of adrenaline surge.
Finally, a ping indicated another message. But it wasn’t a text this time, it was a gif.
Abby’s eyes closed immediately, but it was too late. The image had already burned into her head. She opened her wary lids again and felt rage drill into her entire being. It was Sean. His face was bloody and bruised beneath days, if not weeks, of grown-out facial hair, his upper torso covered in welts and contusions. His arms were bound behind him and she watched the gif repeat itself over and over again as his head flopped forward into an echoed slump.
Just when she felt that her heart was going to burst in anguish, another message appeared on the screen.
If McCarrin or Schmidt get wind of this, he’s dead. And don’t let on to your security detail in the stairwell about it either. He could be just as easily disposed of.
Glancing back at the door to the hallway, Abby pretended to continue a casual text, even though her body was as close to crumbling as it had ever been.
Why are you doing this?
The response took too long. She visually scanned her surroundings, trying to figure out how they could see her. Then she saw it, a dip in the bricks of the wall. A slight reflection indicated a lens aimed straight at her. Not knowing if there was a microphone, nor wanting the security guard in any danger, Abby pretended not to have noticed it and glanced back down at the new message coming in.
Your birthday. Five o’clock. Sean’s apartment. Meet us there.
Abby waited for what seemed a lifetime, but there were no further messages. No images. Nothing but the cold of the night air, and the rage in her heart. She emitted a foggy breath, then began the process of sliding Sean’s prosthetic hand back into the box. Her fingers were surprisingly steady, her mind focused. Once the box was secured, Abby tucked it under her arm, turned towards the camera, and lifted her left hand. Then, she slowly clenched all of her fingers but the middle one, sure to shift her fist into the light and reveal the gleam of the bloody diamonds on her ring finger.
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FIVE
FOR a week, Abby plotted towards an unknown end. Not knowing what they wanted from her, not wanting to cause even a ripple towards what could be Sean’s death, she only imagined thousands of horrific scenarios; picturing what she would or would not do in each one. She spent hours upon hours on her knees, begging God to give her some grain of hope, some message indicating that she was on the right path, but none were forthcoming. Instead, she was stuck in an endless stream of indecision, rage, and grief. When spring break arrived, she only became more aggravated. The hospital had been a respite for her, a way to keep her from thinking of Sean’s damaged body tied up and bleeding. She could only keep herself from waking up screaming by working herself to the bone and exhausting herself to the point where she couldn’t think anymore.
Dragging on her jacket, Abby walked towards the front door, needing to escape from the stifling estate, but Dad’s voice pulled her back in before she could exit. “Beh, ‘mere. Needa tuk.”
Of course he needed to talk. She’d been receiving the same lecture for days now. You’re not eating enough. You’re working too much. Don’t worry, he’ll be back.
But this time, Abby saw something different in Dad’s eyes. She hung the jacket on the coat hook and followed him to his office where he wheeled around to retrieve a letter, handwritten in scratch text. It must have taken him days to write it. She accepted it from his shaking hand and sat on the leather chair next to his desk. “Looks like you’re writing a novel here,” she said, flapping the three pages of paper at him.
Dad laughed, tapped at his iPad to turn on the gas fireplace, then motioned towar
ds her to read it.
Dearest Abigail:
I’d like to start out by telling you how very proud I am of the woman that you’ve become. I’d always been scared for you, frightened of what this world would do to you. But, the world has given you its cruelest, and you have come back stronger.
Having said that, I need to tell you about the case that led to our difficulties. Before your mother and I met, I was involved in a court case that ended up pointing to the Bianchi crime family. Your mother was working as a waitress at their restaurant and she had no idea of their criminal leanings. She was casually dating Ricco Bianchi. She had no idea that he was already married and had a son, and that his father was head of the crime family.
I fell in love with your mother the moment I saw her, and I knew that I had to get her away from there before we prosecuted Ricco. I did whatever I could to research the Bianchi’s and their connections while also getting to know your mom. When she broke up with Ricco, I was the first to know.
Once she was removed from the environment, I was able to follow through on the prosecution. It took two years, but eventually, several members of the crime family were being sent to prison, including Ricco’s wife. She committed suicide before they could put her into custody, thereby killing their unborn daughter. Ricco has never forgiven me for that.
Since then, he has sent me a note every year on your birthday. You already know what it says.
Your mother has little knowledge of the situation. I’d like it to stay that way. For her sake.
We still have no idea why you were attacked so brutally on your twenty-fifth birthday, it was not how Ricco normally operates. We still think there may have been an outside source, but we do suspect that the man who attacked you was Ricco’s son, Diego. The Bianchis keep him out of view, the FBI hasn’t been able to locate him. That is why James has been involved. But after the most recent attack, we aren’t taking chances. He’s is currently one of the top priorities.
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