by J. L. Beck
Hesitantly, I gazed down at my phone on the nightstand. Shit! A red explanation point showed back at me, under it showed eight missed calls. Six from Zerro and two from my sister, Bree. This couldn’t be good. I ran a hand through my dark hair in frustration. I didn’t want to do this whole family reunion thing again. I loved them, but I couldn’t handle looking at their happily ever afters while I had nothing. It always felt like their happiness was suffocating me, drowning me without them even realizing it.
My nightstand started to vibrate again, and I pushed the red key sending it to voicemail. I knew I would have to answer it sooner or later. They didn’t give up easily and knew how to play the game. There was no saying no to either of them. I was learning their moves though. I knew if they got to ten calls, they would stop. Either that or they would come over here. That’s how it always worked. They wanted to save me from the personal path of destruction I was on when they knew there was no saving someone as lost as me.
“Time to go,” I mumbled to the blonde-haired woman lying in bed next to me. She was gorgeous, I would give her that, and her body was tight in all the right places, but none of it mattered. She wasn’t what I wanted, rather a temporary fix that allowed me to ignore my inner demons. What was her name anyway? Joanna, Jessica, Jenn?
She murmured a complaint, but I ignored it. If she wasn’t out of here in ten minutes, then I would remove her myself. I had no reason to get up and move around right now, and truthfully, I didn’t want to, but if it meant getting her out of here faster, then so be it. This alone only lead me back to my original thought: What the fuck was I doing?
Pushing her soft body off me, I got up and grabbed the pair of pants that had been ripped from my body the night before and thrown onto the floor in a haze. I pulled them on without a second thought. I knew better than to head out into the kitchen without clothes on. I had done that one too many times now. I knew what was coming and I would be prepared.
“You know, I expected a lot fucking more from you.” I shifted around, a small smile pulling at my lips. I would love to say that I was surprised by his reaction, but I wasn’t. This wasn’t the first time he had come over because I wasn’t answering the phone. To me, there wasn’t an important enough reason in the world for me to be answering phone calls. I wanted peace and I wanted quiet, not to be hounded by my family. I didn’t need to know what good they saw in me when all that mattered was what I saw in the mirror every day.
“Expecting something from someone is never a good thing, especially from someone like me who will only leave you disappointed. The only thing I can offer up is failure. Is that what you’re seeking?” I retort as I situated my cup under the Keurig.
I could feel the tension between the two of us growing, “The whole pity party thing is getting super old. It’s even worse when you know you have a family that loves and cares about you unconditionally, and yet you continue to live your life this way. And for what reason?”
Didn’t he know I asked myself that same question every day? Eventually, I got to a point where I had to accept the person I was and the shit God had granted me in life. I owned it as my own. This wasn’t a fucking pity party.
“I have no logical answer for you.” I smirked, pretending like I didn’t give a shit. It had been three years since everything went down. I had been glad, grateful even, for Bree becoming a member of this family, but I knew it would leave a gaping hole in my chest. Bottom line—my dad had found the one thing that made his heart whole again and I still hadn’t.
Zerro’s laughter filled the room. “You usually have an answer for everything, so I’ll just pretend I never heard you say that.” I turned around and leaned against the counter waiting for my coffee to brew. My eyes caught on Zerro. It had been a couple months since I had last seen him. He was almost always gone—off on missions left and right, bullshit here and there. We never knew where he was or what his jobs entailed and it had aged him. He looked older, more mature. His beard had grown out and his build was more muscular. He could probably kick my ass in flag football now. Did I care? Fuck no. I’d still give him a run for his money.
I gripped the edge of the counter, forcing myself to stay put, to not pour my heart out to my best friend. Men didn’t do that. We kept that shit bottled up real tight, plus heart to hearts weren’t my thing.
“Pretend all you want, Zerro. We both know I’m the best at it.” There was no hiding the hurt from showing. I could see the flash of recognition in his eyes. There was something about him that was different but still the same. Regardless, he still saw me as the person I used to be. The one I so desperately wanted to be again. He saw everything but mostly the pain, every little glimpse I allowed to escape.
“Cut the shit, Jared. We all know something is up with you. The family needs you now more than ever.” He paused and I could practically see his chest filling with happiness. “Bree, is having another baby.” His eyes flickered with joy. I knew how much he loved her and my niece. Hell, I loved them, too. I just didn’t have that—but I wanted it, and that, more than anything else hurt the most.
“I know everyone does. I’ll make a better effort.” I lied. I wouldn’t. There was no way I was going to force myself into that situation. I watched the glee in his eyes turn to anger. He knew me better than I knew myself.
“No, you won’t. You said that last time and the time before that, and for the last three years. No one knows what’s going on with you.” He tried to sound sincere, but there was no way I was going to have this conversation with him right now.
“Save the mushy shit for someone who cares,” I growled as I turned to get some creamer from the fridge and the sugar from the cabinet. Once I had them both, I poured them in and began stirring.
“Jared, where did I leave my pant—” Janice, or maybe it was June——her voice cut off. Hell, I couldn’t remember her fucking name for the life of me. I turned gazing over my shoulder just in time to catch the angry stare that only Zerro could give me. He didn’t have to say he didn’t approve… it was written all over his face.
“No idea, sweetheart. I do assume you can show yourself out, though?” I placed the cup against my lips, some of the liquid sloshing over the rim. The hot coffee burned my skin, and for a very brief amount of time, it allowed me to feel something even if that feeling was nothing but pain.
She stood there unmoving, her tits all but popping out of her dress. “Really? After everything that happened last night?” she questioned, her hands on her hips. I could feel the anger radiating off her in waves as she opened her pretty little mouth. A mouth that had served a way better purpose than what she was currently using it for. Why did I have to go for the blondes? They were the hardest to get to leave the next morning.
“This isn’t like a new thing, sweetheart. The doors over there.” I pointed to the front door ignoring the daggers that were being shot at me.
“You’re an asshole. You know that, right?” She shot over her shoulder before grabbing her pumps and heading toward the door. There was a smartass retort that was begging to be let free, but I held it in as I waited to hear the slamming of the front door. That was my signal to move on and let go of the words that were never said.
“You know it’s really shitty of you to be like that.” Zerro butted in. I rolled my eyes. Of course, he would—as if he were the most gentle of men back in the day. Instead of letting it go, I turned it around on him. The king of mafia had done far worse than I ever would.
“If I do recall, you did worse things…” I raised an eyebrow in questioning. His face fell and his eyes down casted. I didn’t mean to be a dick, but for him to tell me I was an asshole when he had done the same thing not all that long ago was a complete contradiction. He was throwing stones at me for doing the same thing he had once done.
“I realize that now, but that doesn’t mean you should go about—” I placed my hand up to stop him. I had no need to be lectured, let alone questioned. My motives and choices were mine alone, and I could l
ive with that. I was living with that.
“I don’t need a lecture, Zerro. I’m a grown man, and at the end of the day, I can handle the decisions I’ve made.” I paused. He was ready to chew my ass out again. “What did you come over here for?” I asked changing the subject exceptionally fast. What I decided to do with women and my life was none of his concern. My hand clenched the cup tighter as I waited for him to speak.
I lifted my eyes to meet his only to realize he was growing angrier as the seconds passed. With his eyes narrowed at me, and his fists clenched, one would think he was ready to fight. I didn’t want to do such a thing, but if I had to, to prove a point… my point, then I would. Just like that, the anger was gone replaced with a softness. One that said he understood.
“I need a favor.” The second the words came tumbling out, coffee spewed from my mouth. Laughter on my part echoed through the house as I sat my cup down and got a napkin from the counter to wipe away the coffee on my face. This was rich coming from him. Especially after all he had just thrown in my face.
“You what?” I asked astounded.
“I need a favor, asshole. As in I need you to do something for me.” I could hear his teeth grinding together. Alzerro King hated being indebted to anyone. If he had to pay back a favor, he would make sure he did it in blood. That’s just how he was—well, how he used to be. Now he actually had to ask for help if he wanted it.
“That’s weird. I’m pretty sure you just said you need a favor, and it looks like I’m chuck full out of em.” I was being a dick, pouring salt into a wound I knew very well was already bleeding.
His fists released, and with them, so did the rest of the tension in his body. “I need your help. I have a woman who needs somewhere to stay. It’s only temporary, for a couple months... maybe tops, but I don’t have anyone else who can watch her nor that I trust with her.”
My mouth hit the counter top. I was lucky I wasn’t holding my coffee cup any longer because, had I been, I would’ve busted it to pieces. I couldn’t form a word yet, but in my mind, all I was saying was Oh, fuck no!
“Did you just not see the blonde leaving my house?” I stopped mid sentence, flabbergasted that he would even consider asking me. “Women and I don’t click unless it’s for one thing and one thing only.” I reached for my cup but was halted as Zerro’s hand shot out shoving the cup away. Coffee sloshed over the sides and down onto the countertop.
Fucker.
“I don’t care about that shit. I care about this girl being kept safe, and I care about giving you something worth caring for. She’s your responsibility. She’s been hurt, Jared. For fuck’s sake, man. Hurt in ways that I couldn’t even imagine. I have done some bad shit, but finding those women in that basement made me cringe.”
I wanted to slam the cup down and watch the glass shards fly. I didn’t want him giving me anything to care about. There was nothing for me to care about but myself, and I wasn’t even doing that properly. Instead, I sat it down on the edge of the counter, anxiety forming in my belly. The mere thought of caring for another human being pushed me over the edge.
“I can’t do it, Zerro. You know it, I know it. It’s not worth it.” Zerro smiled and shook his head at me as if in disbelief.
“No, you think you can’t do it. You can and you will. Just tell me, what if she was your sister? What if it were Bree? Better yet, what if it were Gia? You’re telling me you’d turn your back on my wife and daughter? Your fucking blood, huh? I think not.” His words hit me directly in the chest like a punch to my soul and my heart ached.
Moments seemed to pass as we both questioned our next choice of words. “She’s relying on you and so am I. You need to take care of her. Make her comfortable and talk to her. Be the man we all know you can be. I’ll be in touch.” He turned away from me, walking away, and I hadn’t even agreed to anything yet.
“You’re leaving, just like that?” I was a bit amused with myself. Just minutes ago, I didn’t want anyone here, but now—now, I felt like a part of me wanted to reach out to him.
“Yeah, someone has to go get the fragile cargo. See you in forty-eight hours, asshole.” He pulled out a pair of black aviators and slipped them on as he started to walk away.
“Congratulations, man... On the baby. Tell Bree for me.” My words had stopped him before he made it out the front door. He looked over his shoulder, lips drawn in sternly.
“I would if you actually meant them, but thanks. Next time though, actually sound like you’re happy for us.” I wanted to say something—sorry, thanks, anything really, but stopped short of letting the words out as I watched him walk out the door.
Anger surged through me, and before I could think of my next move, the cup in my hand was flung across the room, the contents splattering as the glass shattered against the wall
How could he? He knew how to cut me deep with his words, how to make me feel like shit when I was already feeling lower than the dirt beneath his feet. But most of all, he knew how I felt about caring for someone else. Caring left me open and vulnerable, and I just couldn’t be either one of those things.
I watched the coffee drip down the wall and onto the floor. A brown puddle formed on the tiles in my kitchen. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply as I pictured the shards of porcelain flying in every direction when the cup cracked from the force of the throw. It reminded me of life. How it was always right on the edge of breaking.
Would there be any saving me from this?
Chapter Three
Isabella
“Momma!!!” I screamed for her, but it was useless. They were taking me, forcing me to leave.
“You must go, Isabella. It is for the greater good of our family.” My mother insisted, trying to soothe me, trying to make me see the good in what they were making me do. Instead, a scream resonated through me louder than ever before. Tears fell from my eyes, each one a vivid reminder of the pain to come.
“Momma, don’t let them take me... please, don’t let them take me!” I was begging, praying for her to see I needed her, to see the wrong in all of this, to see that I didn’t really have to go.
“Shhhh, child. You must go. This is for your family. Don’t you want to do what is right for your family?” She scolded me like a child, her tone angry. How could she be angry at me for not wanting to leave? I didn’t want to disappoint her, but I knew if they took me I would die, or worse yet, I would be used, broken, and thrown to the side like garbage once this was all over.
“Is it a deal or not?” the large man at the edge of the table demanded. He was an evil man. I could see the hate and suffering I would endure just from looking into his eyes.
“It is,” my mother said, her words finalizing my death. She didn’t even bother to give me a backward glance. Another scream erupted from my mouth and echoed through the room. My throat grew more coarse with each scream as I dug my fingernails into the flesh of my palms.
“You can’t do this. Don’t let them take me, Momma! Don’t let them, please...” I begged. My mother’s face stayed trained on the floor, unmoving and uncaring. Anger made its way to me. How could she?
“How could you do this? How could you do this to me?!” I demanded.
The large man who had made the deal with my family got up, scraping his chair across the floor loudly. I continued to bellow. My cries filled the room, completely uncaring of who he was or who any of these people was. None of it mattered to me. I was good as dead anyway.
“If you listen, Isabella, they will not hurt you. A deal is a deal…” The man tried to soothe me with his voice, but it just caused my stomach to roll. He smelt of sweat and smoke. I didn’t want to go. I wouldn’t.
“They will hurt me. You’re lying to me. You’re nothing but a liar!!” I screamed at him. Tears continued to fall from my eyes. I didn’t care if it portrayed me as weak in the eyes of those who were going to break me down and kill me. All I cared about was in this defining moment of my life, I had the power to show my emotions. I had the chan
ce to express myself one last time.
He looked at something behind me and then gestured to one of his men. For a brief second, I looked back and then I frantically turned back around, letting the knowledge set in that my life now rested in the hands of these evil men.
“If you don’t defy us, then we keep our word. You defy us and we kill you. It’s really quite simple. Understand?” His words were laced with a heavy Russian accent and his eyes held no emotion. They were just two dark little orbs, void of any and all feeling. I narrowed my eyes, the desire to spit in his face, to jab my fingers into his eyes, ran rampant throughout me.
“Listen to them, Isabella. Be good and nothing bad will come to you,” my mother confessed, her voice nothing but a whisper to my ears. I turned my attention from the man in front of me and back to her. I didn’t need to say anything to her, nor did I need to ask if she felt sorry. The words were written all over her face. She wasn’t.
“It’s time to leave,” the big man stated as he sunk his meaty hand into my arm, gripping me tightly as if he knew if I was given the chance to run, I would.
“You will regret this, Mother,” I said between clenched teeth. She no longer cared about me or the future that I could offer our family. My fate had now been sealed.
“Isabella.” My name being called pulled me from the lingering memories of a past life I wished I couldn’t remember. That thought alone told me I was far from okay. On a scale of one to fucked up, I was double fucked. Most days I knew there was no helping me. Not after everything I had witnessed and been forced to experience.
“Yes?” I lifted my head in questioning, my eyes landing on a large man. He had two guns strapped to his side, an FBI badge hanging from his neck and was taller than I by a good foot. His hair was dark, cropped up top and shorter on the sides. As I eyed him more closely, I realized he wasn’t someone to be messed with. Or at least that was the aura he gave off as he walked around the room. Call it a sixth sense or whatever, but I knew when people were good or bad, and I could tell this man had once been bad. But most of all, if he needed to be again, then he easily could be. Regardless of the dangerous vibe I got from him, he was one of the most handsome men I had ever seen.