TARA

Pain comes in many varieties. It isn’t just the burning and stinging sensations that cripple your body after you’ve had the shit beat out of you. It’s the lack of companionship, the knowledge of being alone, and it’s also formed in the kind of love you feel for another.

I never knew what love was. Not until I heard my daughter cry.

All I wanted was to drink in her smell. One moment with my little girl was all I had. He never gave me the time to let her wrap her tiny fingers around mine. To let me see her eyes or watch her take all those big gulps of air for the first time.

The entire time I was pregnant, he led me to believe he didn’t want children. Claimed he didn’t have the time to spend on raising one. He reminded me daily that I wasn’t keeping her, but I had hoped when he saw her, he would fall in love and change his mind.

He did none of those things. He told them to take her away. And just like that, she was gone.

I cried and cried, screamed for him to get her back. He stood by the door and watched me fall apart, and I haven’t been the same woman since.

I brought this upon myself. I deserve to carry these tortured feelings and have them weigh me down for the rest of my miserable life. I welcome it. I crave the pain. The pain is what’s going to get me out of here.

I allow one silent tear to escape from each eye. They roll down my cheeks and land in my tangled hair.

“You took the only good thing I’ve ever done away from me. You’ve made me what I am today. Molded me into a woman I can barely look at. I hope you're proud of your actions, you psychotic motherfucker. I’m coming for you, and when I catch up, you won’t be proud anymore. You’ll be more afraid of me than I ever was of you.”

Luciano is a sociopath. He’s a stone-cold master manipulator who derives a plan and pushes the dirty part of the job off onto others. Except, he never lets anyone come remotely near me. He keeps them close, their beady little eyes always watching. But to speak, to look when they aren't supposed to will cost them their lives.

I lie here wondering if it costs my bodyguard his. My heart would hurt for him if it did. He sacrificed for me. Luciano doesn’t know this, but he begged me many times to leave; I just couldn’t. Not until we found out where Nola was. But we never did. Luciano kept her whereabouts locked up tight. We tried to find her, tried to follow Luciano around to see if he would lead him to her. He never did. It was if she never existed, and then the day came when I couldn’t stay anymore. They were going to make their move and wanted me gone, but then suddenly Luciano decided to take me with him, and our plans changed. I begged Eric, my bodyguard, to tell me why he wasn’t going to stop us from leaving. We had enough evidence to put Luciano behind bars. All he would say was to trust him, and so I did, and now it’s quite possible he’s dead because of me.

I sigh and wince. The pain in my heart hurts more than my bruised body.

The public doesn’t know Luciano the way I do. The second he leaves our house, he becomes a different man. He’s polite, attentive, and matches the description the news describes him to be. An easy-going man with a passion for abiding the law. I laugh. If they only saw the conspiratorial facade of the man who spews words that cut you down, the man who knows how to drive the reasonable doubt into a person’s mind that makes him dangerous whether he’s inside the courts or out. They would all crumble. That’s how the world sees my husband. Mister Noble and Kind.

He hides his true self from the public like a snake protecting its head within the tight confines of its coil. He shows no warning he’s a man full of evil intentions, shows no hint of the out-of-character man he really is when he leaves his day job and returns home to count his money, dish out orders, and relish in his second job. The one he thought he hid from me.

Luciano doesn’t care about anything except his passion for power. I know things about him, things he didn’t think I did.

And unlike the men who work for him, the ones who hide behind a congenial mask of terror because they are afraid to die, I pulled my own mask off and dropped it on the floor a little over six months ago. And I’m doing it again. Because I am done, I am so done with everything there is to dwell on over that man. I’ve spent enough time stuck in my own head with my monotonous, repetitious thoughts about him. He doesn’t deserve to be in my head anymore.

I wince while pushing myself up off the floor, his truth and lies alternating through the thick, murky confines of my mind. I honestly think he doesn’t have a clue to the weight in which they are now controlling me. Only I do. They strike me in my bitter soul. And as I stumble forward, grab my suitcase, and make my way to the bathroom to clean myself up, the resentment shoots through me harsher than the pain.

He placed one foot over the line when he forced me into living a life that wasn’t real, wasn’t right by any means. He jumped right over it when he spilled his truth. Luciano may not know the true meaning of love, but I sure the hell do. It’s the love I quench for my daughter. The love I desire for Trent. Two different kinds of love that I will not live without.

“Fucking liar. He might have Trent here, but I’ve been plotting this escape a lot longer than he has.”

I strip out of my clothes and wash up, doing my best to avoid looking in the mirror. I fumble through my suitcase looking for a pair of leggings and a T-shirt, and that’s when I feel the cold, hard metal I forgot Adrian’s cousin gave me.

“You didn’t find out everything, Luciano.” I place the gun on the vanity, slowly drag the leggings up my legs, and cry out when I raise my arms to place the shirt over my head.

I inhale deeply; my uneven breathing becomes a startled gasp when the answer to where my daughter is comes to me.

I stop what I’m doing, grab hold of the ledge on the sink, and stare at the woman I could never really see until now.

“This is not your fault. Do you hear me? He has her; she’s here. I can feel her,” I mutter. The spinning of my head, the bruising of my body slowing my movements as I finish cleaning up, stuff my soiled clothes in the trash, and make my way to the door while tucking the gun in the back of my pants.

“You brought her here, Luciano, because you trust no one completely but yourself, and wherever it is you’re running off to, you are bringing her. I’m going to find her. This is what you wanted me to trust you with, isn’t it, Eric? You knew where my baby was before you told me to get out of here. Oh, my God.”

When my mind sifts on, and my feet continue slowly forward through the door and down the hall, another strange notion creeps through my veins and knocks more sense into me.

“I know who has her.” Why is this all coming to me now? Debra, his longtime faithful secretary, is the only person I can think of who he would trust to take care of Nola. He wouldn’t dump her with a stranger or have one of his whores take care of her for fear they would blackmail him—or worse yet, run off or possibly sell her themselves. “I’m going to put a bullet right through your head, you psychotic piece of shit.”

“Stop right there.”

I do as I’m told. My heart crashes from the sight before me. The pain in my chest is ten times worse than anything I’ve felt before.

“Give her to me, you bitch,” I seethe. My whole body is shaking as I stare into the wide blue eyes of my daughter. Her short baby-fine hair full of the darkest ringlets I have ever seen. A pink rabbit is clutched to her chest, and her head is resting on the shoulders of the woman I want to drain the life out of.

I have to believe she feels our connection as she stares at me. I have to, or I will crumble to ash.

There will be nothing left of me if she never finds out how much I loved her, because I know this is all a trick. Luciano has his hook in me; he’s reeling me in. Knows I want my daughter more than anything in the world. And that right there is what has me shuffling forward to where I’m within arm’s reach of touching the most precious little girl I’ve seen.

I’m in awe of her. She is such a sight to see. My little baby girl is here. God, it’s her. I want her in my arms where she belongs. I want to smell her, tell her I love her and I never wanted to give her away.

“I have strict orders not to let you hold her. Besides, she’s extremely shy with strangers,” the woman whom I’d love nothing more than to put a bullet through her head speaks, her features showing no remorse at all for what she’s done. I hate her. Hate everyone in the world who had a hand in this.

“Do you really think you can hurt me any more than you’ve already done? I’m a stranger to her because of people like you. Hello, Nola. I’m your mommy.” I ignore Debra, stick my arms out for her to come to me. My fingers never wanted to touch someone the way they do her. I want to soak her in, get lost in her innocent scent, and run as far away from here with her as I can.

“Do not take another step. And you should know her name isn’t Nola. It’s Bridget. And you have no idea how much I want to hurt you. If it were up to me, I would shoot you myself. Goddamn men are the weakest creatures of them all. Never understood what Luciano saw in you in the first place. Up until the day he met you, he obeyed me. I raised that boy to take what he wanted, and he wanted you. That’s all going to change now, though, isn’t it? You are no longer pure to him. No longer untouched by another man. And you’ve put him in danger of risking everything he’s worked hard to achieve by making him go get you and your lover.”

At first, her words make no sense, but as the agony carves into my skin, cutting through my muscles and sawing into my bones hearing the name Bridget, the more they do. It was Luciano’s mother's name.

Why in God’s name would he change her name? I signed the birth certificate, saw the nurse take it away with my own two eyes.

Oh God. I feel light-headed. If what my gut is telling me is true, this game is more corrupted and disturbed than I ever imagined.

“Why would you do this to her, to me?” I prod, desperate to get to the bottom of this. Debra was always kind to me. Always talking about her son and how proud she was of him, the things he was doing with his life in spite of having a father who never came around. I can’t believe this. Nola was right under our noses the entire time. We checked Debra out and found no traces of her being involved with anything.

My mind fogs up, and my eyes feel heavy with tears. I feel my lip quivering; I try to hold it back, I try to swallow my tears and not let her see I’m losing it, but my will is too weak. My eyes itch and burn from holding back my tears, and my throat is getting tighter with every sharp swallow. I wish I could push my emotions down so deep that I could forget them, but I can't. So, I start to cry. Luciano brought Nola here for one reason. He wants me to make a choice between her and Trent, and if I choose wrong, he’ll kill me.

For as long as I live, I will never understand why life has to be so cruel to some and carefree for others. Some who wish for one slice of happiness end up dying without even knowing what the word means, while others, those who rob a person blind, steal away their sanity, live a life overflowing with it. I will never pull my head out from under the rock of the way our world turns.

“I’ve done all this because I love him,” she claims, sounding sincere; it’s the way she says those words that send a desperate chill racing up my spine. My head rattles as the sick truth shines triumphantly in her eyes.

And now I see why she would be proud of her son. He’s as twisted up in his head as she is.

“If tainting someone’s mind is how you show love, then from this day forward, I’ll make sure you don’t have a thing to do with my daughter. You fucked up a minute ago when you said Luciano wanted me. I bet if I begged him, turned into the wife he wants me to be, that eventually, he’d see you for who you really are. Luciano might be your son, but he’s my husband, and you underestimate the things I’m capable of when I want something. I want my child. So, tell me, Bridget, who died next to your husband in the fire?”

Luciano is her weakness just as she’s holding mine. My brain struggles for an explanation to all of this. It’s revolting even to allow to guess what her answer will be. I’m dumbfounded yet not surprised that one merciless person could mold another into who they want them to be. Trent’s father did the same thing to him.

Jesus. Trent. I need to figure out how to get him out of this without him going back to prison. There are too many decisions for me to make. I decide right there that I’ll make the one Trent would want me to make. It’s an easy one for me, the only one I have.

All the answers slap me in the face. They rain down on me at once. Luciano wants Trent back in prison. If he didn’t, he would have killed him by now. Which means what he told me is the truth. He has him here somewhere.

These sickly people have a problem, though. The proof Eric made sure to give to his people if anything were to happen to him or me will set Trent free. I have to hold on to that while I take my daughter and run.

“He is my son, and you, my dear, are not as stupid as we thought. But you are dumb. He will never turn his back on me, because I’m the only one who has never betrayed him. When I first met you, you reminded me of myself years ago. A lost little girl who needed guidance. The difference between you and me is, I loved my husband. But the man had too much power over me. He wanted to take my son away from me when he asked me for a divorce. I’m not going to sit here and bore you with the details as to why he wanted one. That story has long since sailed. Especially since both he and the woman he wanted to leave me for are dead. Is that enough of an answer to your question?”

I’m honestly beginning to believe that happiness will never exist in my world. As sad as I am. As hard as it is for me to stand here in my pain and sorrow, curse God for what he’s allowed to happen to Nola and me. I can’t afford to be cautious or to let my guard down with these untrustworthy people.

Except, I’m unable to move. My heart is so fucking broken watching her hold what’s mine.

“Surely, you must know how I feel. A man threatened to take your child from you, and here you are, the mastermind behind taking mine from me. How noble of a mother you are, Bridget.” My pulse is beating angrily out of my ears hard enough that I feel it course down my face. “I won’t let the two of you steal the purity from her. She is mine. She will not turn out to be like the two of you.”

A one-sided smile spreads across her mouth. “She will be whoever we make her be. I will raise her the same way I raised my son, and the son you will give Luciano. To rule over everyone, take what they want, and fuck everyone else. Your life would have been so much easier for you if you had listened and done what you're told from the beginning. If we could have trusted you with Bridget, you would have her. You can’t be trusted, and for the life of me, I didn't understand how Luciano would do everything I ask of him except get rid of you. Now, though, after you cheated on him with a piece of filth and fucked him over, I hope I can finally get him to see you for who you are. A woman just like his father was. Everyone knows that when you play with fire, you get burned. You should have never lit the match, Tara. When this is all over, I’m going to enjoy watching you go up in flames. Turn around, your time with your daughter is up.”

I’ve gone mad. I pounce on her, swipe Nola from her arms, and reach for my weapon. I silently pray for forgiveness for having my daughter in one hand and a gun in the other.

They say desperate times call for desperate measures. This is a crucial time for Trent, me, and Nola. I do the only thing I can think of. I put my finger on the trigger, aim, and fire.

And then I run.