Six Years Ago

I pick up my Bible and eat the last bite of my pancakes before bringing my plate to the kitchen and kissing my wife on the cheeks. “It was delicious. Thanks, hun,” I say, winking as I tuck the Bible into my pocket. “See you later.”

“Work hard, honey!” she yells as I run out the door, not even having the time to close it behind me.

However, I still make time to turn around halfway down the path and blow her a kiss, which she catches and holds close to her heart.

Just the sight of her warms mine.

It reminds me of the day we met. One year after I left behind the gang life and vowed to take care of the church, I went to buy flowers for Margaret. When I entered the shop and saw a girl … my wife … behind the cash register, I instantly fell in love with her welcoming smile.

I asked her out on a date, took her to a fancy restaurant, and the rest is history.

She knows about my past. About all the messed up things I did. And she accepts me anyway. Even knowing that someone’s going to come for me one day didn’t stop her from loving me, and I can’t help but love her madly for it.

It’s true what they say. Love knows no bounds.

With a stupid smile on my face, I make my way to the church, enjoying the nice weather outside. “Morning, Frank!” Margaret walks out to greet me as I come in, and I say hi to her too.

“Hope you’re having a great day,” I say.

“Sure thing. Can’t wait for today’s sermon,” she says, smiling as I place my Bible on the pulpit and pull out my notes for today.

“I’ve prepared a great speech. You’ll be amazed.” I wink at her, and her smile widens because of it.

She quickly steps toward me and pinches my cheeks like she did when I was still young. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I reply. Even though I hate it when she squeezes my cheeks, I still love her. “I mean it. I’m eternally grateful you let me be here.”

“Aww … Frank … you don’t have to say it.” She cocks her head as she places a hand on my arm. “You know I’ll always accept you, no matter your past.”

I nod, and after a short hug, we part because the church bells are ringing and people are pouring in.

Soon, believers fill the whole church, waiting for me to talk to them about their faith and give them encouragement in their daily lives. Just like I’ve been doing for the past few years.

I’ve come such a long way. From barely being able to form the words to performing complete speeches in front of entire crowds. All with Margaret’s help. I couldn’t have done it without her.

It’s because of her that I’m here today.

Back where I belong. Back in the church. Doing good instead of evil.

Margaret made me swear that I would devote my life to God, so that’s what I did. I turned my back on the gang life and focused on being a new me. A different me. A man worthy of the unconditional love she gave me.

She is the reason I’ve come so far. The only person who’s supported me through hardship. Who held out her hand when no one else would.

She helped me become the person I was meant to be. It was a long road, but I fought hard, and look at me now.

A full-fledged preacher.

I sigh and stare at the note in front of me. While the crowd grows quiet, I look around, trying to find that spark to start my sermon.

Except what I find today isn’t hope.

It’s judgment.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight as I lay my eyes on the devil himself.

Time seems to come to a stop the moment I’m confronted with my past.

Or rather … the one whose life I’ve ruined.

A top dog in a drug empire not far from here.

The rival drug empire of the gang I was a part of during my darker days.

The same gang that asked me to prove my worth to them … and pay a visit to that rival to teach him a lesson and show him who’s boss around this neighborhood.

That man is sitting right in front of me.

My throat clamps up as he eyes me down, and my fingers tremble with fear. I’m suffocating in my own memories, wanting to erase them from the planet, but I know I can never take back what I did. I wish apologizing was enough, but I know he’ll never accept it.

He wants blood.

He licks his lips, tilting his head as he sees my slow demise. And right then, he gets up and walks toward the exit silently.

I can’t help but stare at the door even though all these people are waiting for me to continue my sermon.

How did he find me?

Why is he here?

Before he opens the doors and leaves, the man briefly holds up what looks like pieces of flesh … a piece of an ear and part of a nose.

I gape in shock and horror, unable to utter a word.

Flashes of memories pass through my mind of Mother telling me Carl didn’t show up for work yesterday … and it all suddenly clicks.

If he has Carl, then he knows … I took something away from him.

And now, he’s going to take what’s mine.

My notes blow off the pulpit as I take off as fast as I can after him. I rush through the church, past the people waiting in the pews, who look at me like I’ve seen a ghost. I don’t care what they think, and I don’t even care about Margaret screaming my name as I sprint for the door.

When I’m outside, the man is already gone.

As fast as I can, I make my way to my house. Faster, faster, faster, as fast as my legs can take me. The pain tears away at me, but not as much as the pain in my heart as I realize what’s about to happen.

The ultimate revenge.

When I arrive at my door, almost tumbling over a toy on the driveway, I scream at the top of my lungs, but no one screams back. My hands shake as I search for my keys, my heart racing as I stuff it into the lock and turn it, slamming open the door.

The house is completely silent.

Unlike anything I’ve heard in ages.

But then a door bangs in the back, and I rush toward it.

I’m too late.

What I see rips a hole in my soul.

My wife being dragged away by two men toward a car with her hands tied behind her back. A piece of black tape slapped across her face. Her eyes filled with a terror that will haunt me forever.

She’s pulled feet first into the car by another man who was already inside, along with a little boy.

My baby boy.

I howl like a dog losing its owner when the tires screech as the car pulls away … as I know that the look of pure horror on their faces will be the last thing I’ll ever see of them.

* * *

Now

“Oh … God.” Laura covers her mouth with her hand in shock.

But then she does the most unexpected thing.

She pulls me in for the tightest hug I’ve had in years. Literally squeezes the life out of me while wrapping her arms around me like a warm cocoon. At first, it feels weird, but after a while, I just accept it and relax, letting her take me over.

Now that I’ve finally told someone of the horrors I’ve faced, it feels like a weight has lifted off my shoulders. Like I can finally breathe a little again.

“God, no wonder … I’m so sorry …” she whispers. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” I clear my throat to prevent more tears from falling. I’ve cried enough now. “It was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, but you’re still … you’re still …”

Still messed up?

Still a drunk?

Yeah, whatever it is, it’s not okay, and she’s right. What happened to my wife and son does still affect me.

“I can’t get that image from my mind,” I say. “Her face.”

“It must’ve been horrible,” Laura says. “And it was the last time you saw them?”

I nod, but then I shake my head. “Alive, yes. I saw my wife after she died. They eventually found her body not far from this neighborhood. I had to identify her at the morgue, but what I saw wasn’t my wife. It was a body, cut up in pieces.”

“Oh, God …” She shudders, but her hands remain steady on my back. “What about your son?”

“I never saw him again. The police assumed him to be dead too, but they never found his body. I even searched … day and night for a whole damn year, but it was useless.” I close my eyes and try to imagine his face, but no matter how hard I try, I can never get it right. “He was so young. Just a few months old. How could they do that to a kid?”

Laura hugs me even tighter. She’s unrelenting in her support like she’s willing to take up the world and more. A fighter, just like me … or at least, what I used to be.

“I’m here,” Laura whispers, holding me close. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her support means the world to me. I never thought I’d be able to lean on someone else like this, but it feels good. I’m relieved I can finally tell someone my story without feeling guilty.

Even though I am.

I couldn’t even go back to the same house where I once lived. Not after they were gone. It was too empty and loaded at the same time. So I went back to the church, and that’s where I’ve been ever since.

Still, the shame never stopped.

“My wife died because of me. My son is gone because of me.”

“You didn’t kill them,” she says.

“No, they died because I took something from him.”

She puts her hand on my arm. “He chose to retaliate. That was not your choice.”

“Revenge,” I say through gritted teeth. “That’s what it’s all about, right?”

“It doesn’t have to be.” She grabs my shoulders. “Look at me. You are better than this.”

“They took everything from me.” I grab my bottle, but when I attempt to drink, she snatches it away.

“No. Alcohol is not the answer, and you know it.”

“Maybe not the answer but definitely a great distraction,” I muse, chuckling like an idiot.

She shakes her head. “Look at you. Getting drunk at your wife’s grave.”

“Pathetic, right?” I fill it in for her.

“No.” She sounds upset, and then she shoves me. “Get up.”

“Why?”

“Get up and walk, goddammit,” she snaps, slapping my chest. “Get up and go on with your life.”

“What’s the point?”

“There’s more to it than sulking and staying in the past,” she growls, grabbing my arm to try to lift me up. “C’mon.”

I sigh, looking at my wife’s grave one last time.

“She would’ve wanted you to go on even though it’s without her.”

I frown. “How do you know?”

“Every woman wants her man to be happy even if she’s not there,” she replies.

That actually makes a lot of sense.

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and then let her help me up.

“Steady,” she says as she supports me.

I’m so drunk I can’t even walk straight.

“I’m sorry I put this on you. But you didn’t have to come, you know.”

“And leave you here in the dirt?” she scoffs. “Not a chance.”

At first, I’m still holding the bottle of liquor in my hand, but then I mumble, “Ah, fuck it,” and I drop it on the ground, letting the alcohol spill out onto the soil.

“Good,” Laura says. “It’s time you said no to yourself.”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” I jest, laughing a little even though it’s not funny.

However, my smile dissipates the moment I see an old Chevy with darkened windows slowly driving along the cemetery. I stop walking. Goose bumps scatter on my skin. I can barely make out the two figures in the front, but I feel their intense stares as they drive by and disappear from view.

“What were you looking at?” Laura asks.

With furrowed brows, I look at her and then back at the empty road. It must’ve been my imagination. “Nothing.”