Riding in the back of a stretch limo, Veer watches me from across the seat. His hair is disheveled, but still shining like something out of an eighties movie. The overwhelming smell of sandalwood and cigar smoke smothering my senses.

“How old is she?” Veer tries to make small talk as if he just didn’t take me away from my kid. As if he didn’t aim his gun at her and try and kiss her with a bullet of death.

“Don’t. Don’t you ever bring her up,” I snap. Vindication coloring my voice. His shoulders lift as he swipes at his slacks as if he has crumbs on them. Rolling my nails into my palm. I seek for a form of pain to release my rolling emotions.

“One thing you will learn is respect. Your father lacked that tool in raising you, but no fret.” His snake eyes snap to mine and I hold my breath, my throat feeling like sandpaper when I swallow. “You will learn it.”

Sliding into the seat next to me like a slick cobra, he grips my hand. His touch cold and unfriendly just like a serpent. He squeezes my knuckles together, my fingers popping from the harshness. My mouth parts with pain as I pry his white knuckles one by one from my sore fingers, his eyes never leaving the side of my head as he conveys just how determined he is to make me obey him.

Feeling trapped by his closeness, I shuffle closer to the door and gaze out the window with tear-filled eyes. My lungs burn with the urge to ugly cry, my cheeks burning with remorse and regret. My heart sinks as we drive farther and farther away from my whole world.

My only escape from this man is the blanket of darkness my eyelids have to bring. Leaning my head against the cool glass, taking a shaky breath I close my eyes. The breath of the cobra sitting across from me keeping me on edge, it takes me forever to fall asleep.

The crunch of gravel under the car’s tires has me stirring in my seat. My neck aches and my legs are stiff from being bunched up for so long.

The smell of cigar smoke reminds me where I am, and who I’m with. I bolt upright. Veer’s smug smile greeting me while a cigar dangles in his left hand; his legs casually crossed. Mac would never cross his legs. A roiling heat in my stomach sparks, reminding me just how much I hate Veer’s face. I look out the window needing anything else to look at and I notice it’s daylight, we’ve been driving all night. I’ve been away from Catori all night.

Worry snakes itself around my heart, and I nibble on my bottom lip thinking if anyone has found her or fed her. She needs a diaper change by now, will Mac remember to put the rash cream on her?

“What are you thinking?” Veer’s smug voice cuts right through my worry, and contempt boils back to a full flame.

I ignore him.

Looking out the tinted window, a large mansion made out of white stone approaches. It’s bigger than my parents’. Trees with the greenest leaves I’ve ever seen frame the acreage, and two medium sizes Indians carved out of stone set the pathway to the biggest set of front doors I’ve ever seen.

“This is your home now, Simone. Maids, chefs, a heated pool, fully stocked library, anything you might need you will find it right here. You’ll never have to leave the estate,” Veer brags, and it takes everything I have not to roll my eyes. I’ve had all this before, and call me crazy… but I don’t miss it. I long for the view of tourists walking by, and the feel of being independent. Making my own food and folding my own laundry… it was something nobody could take away from me.

Cigar smoke rolls around my head and I cough, waving it away from me.

I miss the smell of mint and leather, the sound of Mac click-clacking on his keyboard.

Driving into the round driveway, a white man with a black suit waits for the car to stop. A butler it appears.

The car rocks us to a stop, and the man opens my door. Giving Veer a brief glance, I step outside. The fresh warm air making me inhale it in my lungs so deep I almost cough because I forget to exhale.

“Smells better than Vegas, doesn’t it,” Veer rasps from behind me. His cool breath on the back of my neck rancid and reminding me of death. I step away.

“Welcome home, Simone.” A belittling laugh laces through his welcome, and my legs jerk with acute shock. This is real. I’m never going to see Catori or Mac again.

My bottom lip trembles, but I breathe through my sullen emotions and begin the climb up the stairs to the mansion. Every step forced like a baby colt on a lead for the first time, I have to pull and drag myself to move forward. The wild spirit in me not wanting to be tamed or imprisoned.

The large doors creak and scream as they open, the smell of dust and incense inviting us inside the house of riches.

There are immaculate paintings on every wall, covering every inch. It reminds me of the Harry Potter movie that Mac and I watched one night while eating sandwiches. In the movie, the school had paintings on every square inch of the walls, overdoing it surely.

My eyes sweep from the paintings to the gold banister leading to the second story with ivory carpet lining the stairs.

Is that real gold?

The pitter patter of Veer’s expensive shoes causes my throat to close up, forcing a cough to pull from my chest. I turn on the heel of my foot and stare at him dryly.

“I’m tired. I want to go to bed. Where’s my room?” I can’t bite back the bitterness in my tone, the uncontrollable violence I feel toward this man confuses me. I’ve felt a lot of things in my life, but the emotions this man pulls from my chest could be compared to a voodoo doll from the devil. It’s unpredictable and vile.

Veer cracks his neck, his dark lashes framing his ominous eyes like a monster in the night stalking his prey.

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” The sound of his voice sends shivers down my back. Opening my mouth to reply, I shut it quickly as anything I have to say will surely fuel him toward his natural behavior of something dark.

Noticing my terror, the corner of his mouth tugs into a crooked grin. “I figured we’d sleep in the same room,” he mutters with a softer tone. My brows furrow, if I sleep next to this man… I’ll suffocate him with his goose feathered pillow. I’ve never seen myself as a murderer, but I would bathe in this man’s blood for taking away my daughter.

As if he can read the anger in my eyes, he clears his throat.

“I presume until we say our vows and consummate our marriage on our wedding night, you can sleep in the room across from the master bed.” His left shoulder shrugs. “We will be married very soon though, so don’t get too comfortable.”

“Great, where’s it at?” I ignore his attempt of reminding me of my obligation to be his wife. If I dig deep, when I think about marrying Veer, I see a black widow spinning a web around a male spider, ready to devour his guts.

His face reddens, his mouth parting as he looks to the marbled floor unhappy that he didn’t get a response out of me about marrying him.

“It seems you living with bikers these last few months has made you… an idiot?”

“Excuse me?”

“Look at yourself!” His hand waves at my attire. Glancing down at my torn shirt and sweatpants I roll my eyes. “Because I’m not in a designer brand, I’m an idiot?”

“Yes, and the way you hold yourself and talk… it’s trashy so stop it now!” The order in his voice makes me jump where I stand. My nostrils flaring at his continuous insults. It’s not trash to hold your nose at the level of everyone else, wearing a t-shirt instead of designer polo is not tasteless.

Taking away materialistic things in my life, I’ve learned to live like everyone else in this world, and that’s what I’m doing regardless of what thread count my bedsheets may be. I’m happier this way. I don’t have to please anyone.

“Piss off. I’ll talk and act however I feel.” I lift my chin in defiance. Veer raises his hand and backhands me. I stumble onto my knees, my hands catching me just before I faceplant the floor. A searing burn races across the apple of my cheek. The side of my face throbs with the beat of my heart, swelling blooming across my cheek.

My hysterectomy incision burns from the sudden movement, and I hiss from the pain.

Veer steps forward, his polished shoe stepping onto my hand.

Closing my eyes, the day I was a little girl playing with chalk on my parents’ patio, blurs behind my dark eyelids.

Just as I set the chalk down a shiny shoe slammed on my hand. Pressure and a piercing sting slithered up the bones in my fingers.

“Ow!” I cried, trying to pull my palm out from under the foot. Using my free hand, I pulled at my wrist until the prisoned fingers freed. With heated eyes, I looked at the person who purposely stepped on my hand.

It’s a boy. The sun shined behind him casting a shadow amongst me and the colors on the sidewalk.

“Respect me!” he roars, bringing me back to the now. I don’t say anything, I don’t have the strength in me to fight a second longer. Leaving my daughter behind has taken everything from me. Pulling the sole of his shoe away from my red fingers, I pull my hand to my chest and stand. Feeling numb, I look away not sure what to say or do. The little bit of bravado I had, he slapped into the wind.

“Billiard, please escort Miss Ray to her quarters for the night,” he instructs his butler. “It’s best we take some time to settle into our new situation apart.” He straightens his tie, looking down at me like dirt on his shoe.

Holding my sore cheek with my sweaty palm, my face shakes with anger. My teeth clashing into one another like icebergs ready to crack. I want to kill him.

“Right away.” The man’s throaty voice vibrates his Adam’s apple.

Stepping past him, Veer snatches my hand from my face. The feeling foreign and making my stomach churn.

“I’ll see you at dinner. Tonight.” Pulling my hand free, I wipe at the artic feel his fingers left behind.

“I’d rather starve.” I snarl and step away.

I said I wouldn’t run from him, I never said I would cooperate with him. Ever.

No matter how many backhands, punches, or abuse he bestows upon me. I’ll never love him, not like Mac.

Inside my room, I slam the door shut and slink to the floor. Tears spring from my eyes, and my nails claw into the plush carpet. No matter how far away from Veer I am, a dark presence looms over me, reminding me what he took from me. Clenching my eyes shut a kaleidoscope of heartwarming memories of Mac and Catori swirl with color in the back of my mind.

When I woke up in the hospital and Mac was holding her. Him changing her diapers; feeding her. I can’t help but think about what our life would be like if Veer never showed up.

We’d move to a house outside the city, have a big swing set in the backyard. Catori walking to Mac who’s on his bike in our perfectly paved driveway to kiss him goodbye before he leaves for a club run. We could’ve really been happy. I’ll never forget them, the ache in my chest will never stop until we are reunited once again.

Sobbing, I swipe at the tears staining my face and look around the room. It’s huge compared to the rooms I’ve stayed in of late. In the middle of the space is a step-up platform to a king size wooden canopy bed. Blankets bright white and clean of any lint drooping over the sides.

The windows behind it are draped in golden silk, and across the room a dresser holds golden hair brushes and combs with one large spotless mirror across the back of it.

It’s as if Veer is trying to compensate for something with all the money he’s spent on his house. Who needs a golden brush?

Standing on wobbly feet, I inspect the room further, the smell of money making me ill. I long for the smell of baby puke and leather. I hiccup, feeling alone and cold without Mac and Catori. There’s a piece of me that’s missing, and I’ll never be whole again without them. My heartbeat will be one beat short, my body temperature a few degrees off, and my focus always on what they might be doing at that exact moment.

My mind drifts to wander, what are they doing right now?

Shaking my head of the rapid thoughts, my finger drifts across the white embroidery on the luscious comforter drowning the bed, as I head to the large window.

Rays of sun shine down on a red barn with the most beautiful horses I’ve ever seen prancing around; their heads held high.

I snarl at them; their noses in the air remind me of Veer.

I don’t want to ride a fucking horse. I want to ride a motorcycle, with Mac. I never got to ride with him come to think of it.

Tears fill my eyes at the sudden thought.

The door suddenly opens, and I swing around to see who it is.

A little old lady wearing a black and white uniform with white trim waddles in. Her curly hair lacing around the ruffled headpiece across her head.

“Oh good, I was hoping you were still awake. Here’s a change of clothes, my dear.” She sets down a silky baby blue pajama set on the end of the bed and wipes her sweaty palms on her maid’s outfit. “If you need anything else, just let me know.” Her thin lips press into a smile before her brows raise. “Oh, and I’m Miss Fowler.” She gives a quick bow and waddles out of the room.

She’s a handmaid, I had one until Dad fired her.

Sauntering to the bed, I unfold the top of the pajama set. It’s the perfect size and made of the most expensive silk I’ve seen in a long time.

Scoffing, I toss them on the floor and opt for Mac’s shirt I’m still wearing and the sweatpants. Climbing onto the bed, my hands and knees press into the expensive material as I squirm myself to the middle. The cut across my stomach pulls with my stretching, I can’t help but wince in reaction. I’m so tired. I’d do anything to hold Mac’s hand right now, to hear Catori cry from the other room. The silence of this place is deafening and making me insane.

Throwing the sheets and blankets over my head, I consume myself into complete darkness as I begin to cry again. A hint of mint has me pause my sobbing, the smell of Mac making my heart almost beat normal again. My wet lashes blink rapidly, and I grab the shirt I’m wearing and pull it to my nose. The smell of minty sweat smothers my pain for just a second before tears pour from my eyes.

Will I ever see the two people I love most again?