***Anouk***
Did he really just say that out loud? Like really loud so everyone knows I’m his Old Lady? The President’s Old Lady. Holy shit. Yesterday, when my plane landed I was expecting my mother to come pick me up, but instead it was my stepbrother. It was as if I stepped inside my own personal horror movie. One where my stepbrother dragged me to his house and played the killer that went ballistic and killed my mother, his father, and a buddy of his right in front of my eyes.
How did I get wrapped up in that? Is there ever a point in life that triggers a chain of events? For me, there is. My mind flashes back to what happened four years ago. Back to the night my mother was raped. My dad was working late. My mom and I were already turned in for the night when a man came into the house. I was in my bed and woke up to my mom’s screams. I ran to her bedroom and from the hallway behind me I heard my dad coming home. I screamed so loud when I saw my mother on the bed, a knife to her throat and a stranger on top of her.
My father ran past me and grabbed the man. There was a fight and the police got there pretty quick and took the man away. They mentioned later it might have started off as a burglary. Somehow, he was released shortly after due to a technicality. My mother was never the same again. She basically shut down, couldn’t sleep, didn’t go outside, nothing. My dad couldn’t handle it and tracked the guy down. To make a long story short, he killed him to give my mother piece of mind.
My father went to prison and just three weeks in, got in a fight and was killed. My mom, who was already off track, became numb and addicted to her prescribed pain medication. When they didn’t do the job, she switched to any other drugs she could get her hands on and found a drug dealer who could supply her needs. Every need, because she ended up marrying said drug dealer.
I moved into the pool house behind the mansion they lived in. Avoiding my stepfather and his son and still being close to my mother. I could never leave her and yet she forced me to leave town a few days ago, didn’t give me a choice. In the past I tried to support her through rehab, I did everything to be there for her.
Yes, I tried numerous times to get her away from it all, even if she was married to a dealer who took his own shit, and his son was doing the exact same thing. I had to try. Only to be pushed away by my own mother, all while being ignored and punched at by her drug dealing husband and his twisted son.
If only I could have done more, but she told me to get my own life together instead of focusing on her. Telling me how she couldn’t be saved, there were too many sins on her soul, but I could run and make a clean break. My mother gave me a thick envelope with a couple of grand in it. She told me to start over in a new town and maybe open the muffin store I always wanted to run since I was five years old. I don’t know where the hell she got the money, but the panic in her eyes and voice was enough for me to know I had to get away, for her.
With tears streaming down her cheeks, she dropped me off and made me promise to never look back. Said she was sorry for screwing up my whole life, the drugs, dragging me into the mess she created yet again. She even mentioned the night she was raped, but stopped mid-sentence and just said; I’m your mother, you’re my daughter, and you’re supposed to do as you’re told. Although I was a grown woman, your mother always seems to have some kind of hold on you, no matter what age you are. Or mine had anyway.
Somehow the thought enters my mind that my mother pushed me away to swallow her guilt. Or maybe she didn’t want me to see her being dragged down even further in life. Every damn second on the plane and the days after, I wanted to go back and get her. Knowing something was wrong and different, wanting to take her away from her surroundings, start completely over. That’s exactly the reason I didn’t think twice and got on that plane when she called after three days. I should never have taken that money she gave me that day. And dammit, if I knew then what I know now, I would have…
Ronin’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “I said, who of you three idiots is the highest up in rank and who’s next in line after that?”
There are now three guys standing in front of us, surrounded by bikers.
“Tim is head of security, Bruno is his right hand.” A guy with a look on his face as if he’s about to shit himself stumbles, getting glares from the two other guys he just mentioned.
My hands are gripping Ronin’s cut and I feel him shift.
‘Yo, Tim,” Ronin snaps.
A guy in a dark blue suit automatically responds to his name and snaps his head Ronin’s way before a blast bounces off the wall and a tiny hole appears between his eyes.
“Yo, Bruno,” Ronin’s voice rings out again and the two guys in suits who are left standing both look like they know their time is up. Wide eyes, shaking hands, waiting for something to happen and not knowing what they should do.
“Who’s the guy standing next to you?” Ronin asks.
The nameless suit ping-pongs his head between Bruno and Ronin, answering before Bruno can say something. “I’m Harold.”
Another blast and Bruno hits the floor.
“Hi there, Harold. Seems like you’ve just been promoted. Now run the fuck off to your boss and tell him not to fucking mess with me. I don’t owe him shit and when a fox enters a herd of sheep, he’s bound to be attacked by the owner, or the dog protecting the herd. Consider me both of those all rolled into one.”
It’s amazing how Ronin doesn’t even flinch but is like this rock in a wild sea who can handle every wave that crashes against it. One of the bikers grabs Harold by his shoulder and pushes him toward the exit.
The door closes and Ronin steps toward a guy who has his entire arms inked with black artwork. “Bark, church in an hour, set it up. I’m going to have a little chat with my Old Lady so I have her side of everything.”
“Old Lady, huh? Can you send me on an assignment where I can find me one of those? Because Crane was also sent to handle a chick and ended up claiming her.”
Bark’s eyes slide over my body, yet I don’t feel like it’s sexual. It’s more like he’s…taunting Ronin?
“My Old Lady wasn’t a job, she just happened to stumble into the shit I was handling. And keep your fucking eyes off what’s mine,” Ronin growls and takes a menacing step forward.
I tighten my grip on his leather cut some more and try to pull him back. “Don’t, Ronin. Bark doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just yanking your chain.” I find the nerve to glare at Bark. “Not a very nice thing to do to your Prez.”
Bark gives me a wink before his gaze goes to Ronin. “You know as your VP, I get to handle you know what. Get me?”
What the hell is Bark talking about?
“Yes,” Ronin snaps. “Now set up the damn thing, church in an hour.”
Ronin doesn’t wait for a reply but spins around and guides me toward his room.