Beyond Revenge (The Ransom Series)

by A. T. Douglas

  I consider her offer, and even though I don’t like it, I give in. “Okay.”

  It doesn’t take much to persuade Robert and Cindy to make the drive up to us. They’re more than happy to have an excuse to see their daughter and her growing belly. They arrive in the evening, and while they all chat happily in the living room after dinner, I try to remain focused on dishes and cleaning in the kitchen, looking for anything to distract myself from the thought of what I’ve signed myself up for tomorrow.

  The morning comes painfully slow, and by the time the sun rises, I’m completely exhausted. I was awake in bed all night, holding Morgan tightly to me as thoughts of Stella emerged from the hidden place deep in my mind, the part of me that lingers in the darkness that I desperately try to keep at bay. Once those thoughts were out, I had no hope of sleep, so I rested my body but not my mind.

  As I’m prepping some gear to bring with me just in case, more out of habit than anything, I wonder if my mind will rest better after this or if I’ve just opened Pandora’s box and screwed myself out of sleeping ever again. I try to remain positive as I check my gun and pocket my switchblade.

  I grab a burner phone and the car keys from the drawer in the kitchen. It’s the first time I’ll actually use the old gray Jeep that Jack left with us for emergencies. I’ve kept it in driving-ready condition since the day we moved in.

  “You’re not going to stick around for breakfast?” Cindy asks from the dining room table where Robert and Morgan are already seated with plates of pancakes in front of them. Morgan looks at me with concern.

  I open one of the cupboards that is stocked full of non-perishable foods and pull out a couple granola bars. “I’ll eat these on the road, but thank you.” I smile at Cindy and look between her and Robert. “Thanks for staying with her today. I’m sorry it was on such short notice.”

  “Not a problem,” Robert says as he pools syrup on his plate. “We’ll take good care of her, but you be safe out there.”

  I nod at him and walk up behind Morgan. She starts to scoot her chair back to stand up, but I lean down and wrap my arms around her first, stopping her from moving. She laughs at me as I bring my head down next to hers and quickly kiss her cheek. She turns around a little within my grasp so we’re facing each other better, and our lips meet in a brief but loving kiss.

  “I’ll miss you,” I whisper, looking in her eyes and feeling her belly at the same time.

  “We’ll miss you, too.” She smiles back at me. She knows I love it when she includes the baby like that.

  The moment I let go of her, I feel like to grasp on to her again and stay here, but I know I need to do this. I need to find a way to let go of my guilt about Stella or I’ll never truly move forward. I need this, and it’s solely up to me to make it happen.

  “I’ll see you all later tonight,” I call out as I move toward the door, unable to bring myself to look back at them before I leave the house and get in the Jeep.

  The two-hour drive alone with my thoughts is more excruciating than I expected it would be.

  The walk from the parking lot down the pathway through the graveyard seems endless.

  Seeing Stella and Elise Castili’s names carved into jet-black tombstone brings me to my knees.

  “I did this,” I whisper, my head falling into my hands. They’re trembling slightly. I feel like I’m losing all control as thoughts of Stella flood back to me.

  The moment we first met, I was numb from all the crying. Only hours before, my parents had been killed within feet of me and I had been shot. My arm was bandaged and still painful from where Jack had removed the bullet. There were dried specks of my dad’s blood all over my shirt. I was an absolute train wreck, yet the moment I walked into the Castili family home, Stella greeted me with a smile and bouncing locks of long dark hair. She took my hand and led me to her room. She got a wet washcloth and helped clean the remaining blood from my skin. She didn’t ask questions. She wasn’t afraid. She was there for me when I had no one, and in those moments she made everything okay.

  The first time I knew something was wrong in the Castili household was the day we were rewarded for good behavior with as much ice cream as we could eat. It was cookies and cream, Stella’s favorite, and we practically finished an entire carton between the two of us. She should have been the happiest kid in the world, but she was sad that night. I asked her what was wrong, but she didn’t want to talk about it. She sat on her bed with her legs curled up into her chest, and then I saw it. There was bruising visible on her side where her shirt was slightly pulled up. I looked to her eyes and could see that she knew I saw it, but she didn’t say anything. She just cried and cried, so I held her and promised her she wouldn’t have to cry anymore.

  The next day I disobeyed every command Mark gave me and smashed the hood of his precious classic Ford Mustang with a baseball bat. My continued disobedience and resistance kept his focus, and while my childhood innocence was lost and my life was forever changed, I never found Stella bruised or crying again. She was able to grow up with as normal of a life as she could within the confines of her family’s place in the criminal world. Each time I returned to my room with new gashes and bruises, she was always there for me, her eyes conveying their silent gratitude as she helped treat my wounds and gave me the strength to keep going.

  The day she was killed, I was supposed to pick her up at the house. She wanted to do what normal seventeen-year-old girls wanted to do: go to the mall. She had been so sheltered in that house with Mark, rarely allowed to go out and forced to be home-schooled with me all her life. It was like she was given her freedom the moment his was taken away. Even Elise seemed relieved that Mark was in prison and no longer affecting our daily lives. She knew exactly what Mark did all those years to Stella and then to me, but she was powerless to stop him. She didn’t escape life with him unscathed. She hid her own bruises and cuts well.

  With Mark gone, we could all breathe a sigh of relief. We could all live again, but the life I wanted was one I couldn’t have. I felt indebted to Mark. There were few constants in my life, but one that stuck with me was that he saved me. When my parents were killed, he put a roof over my head and food in my stomach. He gave me purpose in his business.

  He was also a brutal monster, and I had to keep Stella far away from him. I stayed close to Mark with the hope that by the time he got out of prison, Stella would be free in the world and out of his reach. I had to force my heart to move on from loving her. I thought if I could forget about her by busying myself with other women, maybe it wouldn’t be so painful to let her go.

  My one-night stand was more like an all-night stand, and I slept in late the next morning. I rushed to get out of there and get to Stella as fast as I could, but when I pulled up to the house, it was too late. Elise was out in the driveway, the guards from inside standing uselessly behind her as she clutched Stella’s lifeless body to her chest, sobbing into her daughter’s hair and caressing her face like she might just be sleeping and could wake up at any moment. I collapsed next to her, my hands shaking, my entire being ripped out from inside me as I realized I failed her. After years of living with her and protecting her and taking all of Mark’s shit in her place, it took just one moment of my neglect to end her life.

  “How can you forgive me?” I ask out loud.

  I don’t know if I’m talking to Stella or the tombstone or God or no one. I reach out and run my fingers over her name permanently marked on this place where her bones rest peacefully next to those of her mother. My gaze darts to the tiny tattooed star on my extended inner forearm, the simplest of all my tattoos but perhaps the most meaningful. It’s my reminder of Stella, the marking I’ve carried with me since the day she died. I don’t want to remember my guilt when I look at it. I want to remember her.

  My focus returns to the tombstone. There’s silence around me, nothing but the wind blowing through my ears. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I’m sorry I let you down. I fucked it all up. I’m so fucking go
od at ruining beautiful things.” The words spit out of me in my anger and self-hatred. “I was ready to give my life for you back then. I would have done anything for you. All I had to do was be there on time for you and protect you like I always did, but I failed, and I’m so sorry.”

  Tears fall from my face to the cement base of the tombstone below. I slowly remember why I came here and the person who suggested I do this. I remember my love for her and the baby growing inside her. I remember that I’ve rebuilt my life, that I’ve started over, and I have someone to share it with.

  “I met someone.” My voice catches in my throat, and for a moment I can’t speak. I can’t fathom hearing my voice talk out loud in this graveyard again, but somehow it manages to come through. “Her name is Morgan. She’s… she’s pregnant. We’re having a baby, at least we think it’s our baby.”

  This is coming out so wrong. All wrong. I need to be honest about this. I need to face it.

  “He hurt her, Stella. You never told me what he did to you, but I know he hurt her in so many ways. I watched it. I participated in it. I only wanted to help and protect her, and I failed at that for months before I finally saved her from him.” I take a deep breath. I feel like I’m past the worst of it. “He’s gone now. He’ll never hurt anyone I love ever again.”

  My tears have stopped. I feel some of the weight off my chest now. I don’t like that I’m still on my knees. I feel weak in this position, so I push myself up to standing. I instantly feel my strength and confidence returning. Life swells within me again.

  I look back down at the tombstone. The sting still hits me to see their names, to know they’re both buried beneath this ground, but it doesn’t cut me as deeply.

  “I think I’m finally ready. I can move on now.” My eyes scan the graveyard around me. I’m alone in a sea of death, these stone windows to the past. “I’m going home. It’s time for me to live.”

  I turn and begin to walk away, but it feels wrong. I feel like I’m turning my back on Stella, that I’m leaving her behind, but all I’m trying to do is move forward.

  My body turns around but my feet don’t stop moving me away from the tombstone.

  “Goodbye, Stella.” My heart bursts within my chest, but then I am free. “I’ll never forget.”

  21

  His Integrity

  ∞

  He has known one life.

  One perspective.

  One purpose.

  He clings to it

  despite the invasion of variables,

  regardless of the turns.

  Resisting the current,

  the things that would make him happy.

  Ecstatic.

  Alive.

  He just needs to open his eyes and see

  the good within him.

  His true self

  he can be.

  ∞

  “Will this really fit?” I hold up the newborn diaper I’ve just pulled from the box and inspect both sides of it, checking to see if it’s folded over or some of the material may be missing. “This thing is tiny.”

  Leo’s eyes go wide as he shrugs his shoulders at me. “Hell if I know. You’re asking the wrong person.”

  He looks completely out of place on the other side of the floor from me digging through a basket of freshly cleaned baby clothes. He’s not so much folding them as separating them into piles of onesies, rompers, and sleepers, these kinds of infant clothes that I’ve recently learned about in which Leo still has no clue. I can’t help laughing at him as I put the diaper back in the box and push it to the side.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks with a yellow and white onesie in hand, the tiny piece of clothing embroidered with a pattern of rubber ducks.

  I start laughing harder, leaning behind me on my arms and throwing my head back until my chuckles subside. By the time I tilt my head forward again, Leo’s scurrying across the floor to me with a sly look in his eyes. He grasps my sides and positions himself kneeling over me, my bulging belly sticking out and completely in the way between us.

  “Tell me what’s so funny,” he demands with a hint of a tease, trying to bring a serious look to his face but failing terribly.

  I kiss him softly on the nose. “You’re very handsome you know, and strong.”

  “You’re not answering my question,” he scolds playfully, practically growling at me as he brings our foreheads together.

  “Let me finish.” I pull my head back and smile at him. “My incredibly tough and tattooed manly man is sorting through dainty newborn clothes.” My eyes glance around the almost finished nursery that surrounds us. “We’ve replaced the knives and guns in our lives with bottles and diapers.”

  The teasing expression fades from Leo’s face as he moves off me and sits down at my side, his entire body tensing.

  I push myself up to a full sitting position and rub his arm softly. “Sorry. What did I say?”

  He shakes his head at me but doesn’t reply.

  I watch Leo closely, trying to gauge what’s going on in his head. His mouth is contorted in a worried look. He’s staring at the tan rug underneath us, lost in thought. I don’t know where this is coming from. He’s been a lot better lately. He seemed to have let go of the majority of his guilt over Stella and even over his part in everything that happened to me. I felt like we were finally moving on from the past to help us embrace our future together.

  It’s unlikely that I’ll reach him with words, so instead I grasp the sides of his face. He tries to divert his eyes from me, but after the first couple of brief kisses I place on his skin, he seems to lose the ability to keep his gaze away from me. His eyes find mine, and I kiss his temple on each side of them. My breathing becomes steady and even as I trail kisses down to his neck and bury my face in his shoulder, trying to bring him back down to me.

  After a long moment, Leo releases a deep sigh. His arms instantly wrap around me as if he’s just realized that I’m this close to him. When his fingers linger down to my huge belly, his entire body freezes.

  “You really think I can be a father to this baby?” he whispers against me.

  I pull back from our embrace and look at him incredulously. “What are you talking about? You’re going to be an amazing father.”

  He shakes his head and looks away before bringing his eyes back to mine. “I don’t know the first thing about it. Look at who I’ve had for a dad since I was a kid. Look at what I’ve become in all these years, the life I’ve lived and all the things I’ve done.”

  “We left that life behind, Leo.”

  Our attention is drawn to the baby readjusting its position within me. Leo’s hand jumps slightly at its sudden movement. He tries to pull his arm away, but I collapse my hand over his, compelling him to continue touching my belly.

  “You don’t have to be afraid,” I say soothingly. “You’re not that person anymore. You haven’t been since the moment I first locked eyes with you at the prison.”

  Leo remains quiet, and I let him have his silence while I continue to hold his hand over our child. After a few minutes pass, I try to readjust how I’m sitting and feel something change within me, the start of something amazing yet terrifying. My eyes widen with my sharp intake of breath.

  Leo immediately stiffens next to me. “What’s wrong?”

  I feel the dampness in my shorts even before I look down to see the liquid soaking them.

  The clock has started.

  Leo looks down and sees it, too, and his eyes grow just as wide as mine. “It’s too early,” he exclaims, as if we could possibly reverse or stop the natural processes that are occurring right now.

  A week and half before the due date isn’t too early. The baby has matured enough to be born safely at this point, but I know what he’s feeling. We’ve been preparing for this for months, but now that the moment is finally here, all that preparation seems to go right out the window. “It’s fine, Leo. It may be earlier than we expected, but it’s fine.”

  He grasps my fac
e and pulls me close to him. “We’re not ready. Jack’s not here until next week. Your parents aren’t here.”

  I observe the man I love and run my fingers gently through his hair and smile. Internally I should be freaking out as much as he is, but I’m not. I’m slowly learning that this is what a mother does: she is strong for her family. “We have time. They’ll get here. Everything will be fine.”

  Leo looks down at my belly as if the baby might pop out at any minute. When his eyes reach my face again, he quickly bolts into action. It takes only a second for him to scoop me up in his arms and stand us up.

  “I can walk,” I protest with a laugh as he moves us toward the door.

  There’s a change in his eyes, a loving determination. There is strength and support where there had been self-doubt and concern just a moment before. It shows me all sides of Leo and embodies everything I love about him.

  “No walking for you. Save your energy,” he insists as he takes me into our bedroom and sets me down gently on the bed.

  He disappears for a moment and returns with a cell phone and dials a number while he fetches a towel from the bathroom.

  “Jack? Jack. It’s time. Her water broke.” Leo works a folded towel underneath me and slips my wet shorts and underwear down my hips as he listens to Jack speak on the other end of the line. “Okay. Please hurry. See you soon.”

  He quickly hangs up the phone and looks down at me on the bed, my prominent belly sticking up from my horizontal and half-naked body. I can’t help laughing at the frazzled man facing fatherhood who stands before me.

  For a moment it looks like Leo might be upset, but then his expression softens as he tries and fails to hold back a smile. “Stop teasing me,” he says through his attempt to control his own laughter. His face is completely red as he tosses a blanket over me.

  I’m grinning so wide that my cheeks hurt. “Sorry, I can’t help it.”