CHAPTER
ONE
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Ella
I was woken by the sound of sobbing and sniffling next to me in the bed. Nothing ever woke me up faster than my daughter crying, and that was saying something considering what a heavy sleeper I usually was. It was just one of the many things that changed after Violet came into my life ten years ago.
"Baby, what's wrong?" I asked sleepily as I rolled to face my little girl, who's back was to me with her slight shoulders quaking with sorrow.
"I...I miss Daddy," she sobbed out softly.
I reached out to soothingly rub her back over her soft and sparkly purple cotton pajamas. "I know you do, baby. I know," I whispered, wishing I could say that I missed him too and filled with guilt over that fact. Not because I wished that I actually missed that horrible man, but because I was happy that he was gone. What kind of person did that make me? What kind of mother? She didn't know him like I did though. She only knew the doting father who spoiled her and treated her like a princess. That wasn't the man I knew.
Violet rolled over onto her back and looked at me, her face a mask of agony as tears sheeted down her cheeks, her dark-green eyes glittering in the dim light of the night light I'd left on for her. Since her father died, her fear of the dark had resurfaced.
"Why did he have to die, Mommy?"
It laid waste to me when she called me Mommy instead of Mom. She was old enough now that she only said it when she was hurt or upset. It killed me every time. Especially, when the pain wasn't something I could share with her or take away.
"Why?" she added pathetically and reached for me.
"I don't know, Violet honey, but I wish I did." I pulled her into my arms and held my little girl tight against me. She felt heavy as she practically crawled onto me, so I guess she wasn't quite so little anymore. At ten years old, she was tall for her age, and less than a foot shorter than my five-foot nine-inch height now. I brushed her hair from her tear-streaked face and kissed her head. "Shh, baby. I'm still here, and I love you so much."
"I wanna go home," she wailed out. "Why can't we go home?"
I sighed, knowing the answer to that question, but she wouldn't understand why the FBI had seized my husband's assets during their criminal investigation, which included the mansion where she'd grown up. All she knew was that I'd ripped her away from everything she knew and loved to be where we were right now. She didn't need to know that I still wouldn't have stayed there. I didn't want any part of anything that man had ever owned. Every last bit of it was gained through illegal and nefarious means that I wanted nothing to do with. The government could have it all. I just wanted freedom for me and my daughter, and I was happy to be out from under Raymond Voss' shadow for good.
She sobbed and hiccuped in my arms incoherently for a while. I held her, rubbing her back and murmuring what comfort I could offer, until she finally fell asleep again. I carefully extricated myself from her latching arms and tucked her back under the blankets. I pushed her soft hair, that was the same flaxen blond as mine, out of her face. She looked peaceful now, her eyes closed and her long thick lashes resting on her reddened cheeks. I leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, before I climbed out of bed and quietly left the room.
I made my way downstairs to the darkened kitchen without bothering to turn on the lights. I went to the small table, sat down in one of the chairs, and then it was my turn to cry. I buried my face in my hands and wept pathetically, mourning the life I had because of the bad choices I'd made when I was young and stupid and so naive. Violet was the only good thing to come out of any of the last twelve years of my life.
"Ella?" a familiar male voice called out quietly.
"I'm fine," I blurted out as I instantly jerked my head up and began wiping frantically at my eyes.
My brother Evan stood in the doorway watching me with a worried frown that I could just make out in the dim light filtering in through the kitchen window from the outside street lamp. A car drove by, its headlights shining through the window, momentarily illuminating his face and a pair of concerned steel blue eyes that matched my own.
Evan snorted out a laugh. "No, you're not," he said in his deep soothing voice. "You're sitting in the dark crying all alone. What part of that says you're fine?"
"I guess you're right." I laughed it off, not wanting to admit to my little brother that my reaction was because I never cried in front of Ray, not if I didn't want to have an actual reason to cry. It had been two months since the police showed up at my door to tell me that Ray was dead, but old habits died hard apparently. Especially when they were born of fear. I wondered how long the deep psychological wounds my husband had inflicted on me would take to heal and scar over, or if they ever would at all.
"Was Violet crying again?" Evan asked softly in concern as he walked closer to me.
I nodded. "I'm sorry if she woke you, or Beth, or the kids."
He waved off my apology. "Please. Beth and the kids could sleep through an air raid, and I was awake anyway. It's hard to sleep well with a woman who hogs the covers and snores like a congested moose." He grinned. "Don't tell her I said that."
I smiled wanly. "I won't," I said as guilt fell over me. My baby brother had a wife and two kids, and here I was imposing on him and taking up one of the four bedrooms in his house. That's me, my baby brother's charity case.
Evan flipped on the light over the table, filling the little galley kitchen with dim light, and made a beeline for the cupboards. My brother had lovingly remodeled it into a warm inviting space with lots of hardwood that still maintained the original homey feel of the early twentieth-century foursquare fixer-upper he bought several years ago.
"If we're awake we might as well make the most of it." He opened the cupboard door and pulled a box out. "Milk and cookies?" He held it up with a wide grin.
"That sounds great," I said softly as I watched Evan get the milk and some glasses. Sometimes I was still in awe that this tall able-bodied man was the same little boy who dragged a ratty security blanket with him everywhere he went and thought there were hairy one-eyed monsters in his closet.
He sat down across from me and poured a glass of milk, and pushed it over to me. He poured some for himself, then tore into the box of cookies with eager enthusiasm, his blond hair sticking out all over his head and his eyes bright and content. I watched him with a smirk. There was that little boy I remembered. Even in a tank top and sweats with his broad shoulders and muscular arms on display, he would always be my baby brother.
"How's the job hunt going?" he asked through a mouthful of cookie.
My shoulders slumped. "Awful," I grumbled as the cookie in my mouth began to taste like sawdust.
"That bad, huh?" he asked with a sympathetic expression.
"Yeah," I answered. "Apparently, a decade-long hole in your resume is a giant red flag." I snorted bitterly. "You'd think I was applying for a CEO position and not a waitressing job."
"I'm sure you'll find something," he said reassuringly.
"I hope so," I said despondently.
"Well, at least you and Violet have a place to stay until you do." He meant his words to be reassuring. They weren't.
I nodded and shoved another cookie in my mouth as guilt rose up again. I'd felt like nothing but a leach for the past several weeks I'd been staying here after coming back to my hometown with my tail between my legs. I wanted to be able to contribute, but with only a high school diploma and a long gap since the last time I had an actual job, it might be a while before I could assuage that guilt in any way.
My brother didn't go to college either, but he'd been driven and determined to make something for himself and get out of The Armpit. He'd gotten an apprenticeship as a lineman for the Power Company right out of high school, he'd applied himself and worked hard, and now at the relatively young age of thirty-one, he was a full-fledged journeyman with a decent salary to boot. He provided well for his family and was proud of what he accomplished for himself. I wish I could say the same for myself.
I'd been a deluded idiot, and thought finding a man that could give me money and security would get me out of the prison of poverty that was The Armpit, and bring me happiness. Well, money and security got me out alright, but only to be trapped in a different kind of prison with Ray as my jailer and no happiness in sight. Now I was thirty-four and had nothing to show for myself beyond being a mother for my daughter and a penniless widow to a monster.
"I have another interview tomorrow," I announced.
"Oh yeah?" he asked. "Where at?"
"Some place called The Indigo Room."
Evan's eyes rose in surprise. "The night club?"
"I guess so." I shrugged. I never heard of the place, but it paid well. I'd never worked in a nightclub before, but I'd tried so many restaurants without any luck that I'd take anything at this point.
"Huh, I never pictured you working at a place like that."
"What?" I asked crossly. "You don't think I can handle it?"
"No," he answered fervently. "Not at all, but a meat market like that is just so shallow, so..." He grimaced, "vacuous," he added in disgust.
"Vacuous?" I asked with a smirk. "That's a mighty big word there, baby brother."
"You should see me do math," he said loftily as he pointed his cookie at me. "And I'm pretty much all self-taught."
"And humble," I added with a laugh.
"What can I say? I'm the bomb." He straightened in his seat with a cocky expression that I knew was complete bullshit.
"Shut up and eat your cookies," I told him with a shake of my head.
He grinned with a shrug, then shoved two cookies into his mouth at once and chewed them with his mouth open on purpose. And there was the annoying and disgusting little brother I remembered again. I rolled my eyes and ignored him. It was best not to encourage him when he got like this.
"Oh, can you watch Violet while I have my interview tomorrow afternoon?" I knew Friday was Evan's normal day off. He usually worked four ten-hour shifts on Monday through Thursday. "And can I borrow your car again?" I asked apologetically. Yup, back to feeling like a leach again.
"Shit, El," Evan said with a pained expression. "I can't. I picked up an extra shift tomorrow. I'm sorry."
Somehow I couldn't help suspecting that he was picking up extra shifts to cover for me staying here. I felt my eyes start to sting. "I...I guess I can call and see if I can reschedule it," I said waveringly. I clamped my teeth together and fought down the waterworks.
"No, don't do that." Evan reached across the table and grabbed my hand. "We'll figure something out. I know how important this is to you. Maybe Beth can leave work early tomorrow, and you can use her car. Then she can watch Violet."
"I can't ask her to do that," I immediately replied. Beth was a nursing assistant at the hospital. She didn't make a lot, but I wasn't going to cost her any of her pay.
"I can give you money for a cab," Evan offered.
"Okay," I said grudgingly, even though I didn't really want to take any more of my brother's money. "I guess I can bring Violet with me."
I hoped that bringing her didn't cost me the job, but what choice did I have. I couldn't use the daycare that the hospital provided for Beth since I didn't work there. I didn't want to leave Violet home alone either for obvious legal reasons, but also because she was very emotional and clingy with me right now. I didn't want to make this harder for her than it already was.
"There you go," my brother said as he squeezed my hand. "We got it all figured out."
I nodded, unable to stop the tears that spilled this time from equal parts gratitude and guilt. Evan immediately rose and came around the table to sit next to me. He pulled me into his arms and comforted me while I wept bitterly for everything I'd lost or never even had to begin with.
This wasn't how my life was supposed to be. This wasn't where I should have been. It was the painful moments like these that his face always came back to me, these moments that hurt the most. I saw piercing crystalline blue eyes, soft almost black hair, and a kind loving smile that said I meant the world to him. I saw the young man who treated me right, who loved me, the one I should have stayed with twelve long years ago. It was hard not to think that I deserved everything I'd wrought upon myself for the real love that I so callously and stupidly left behind without a backward glance.