“Hey, Dad.” He frowns slightly and then looks worried, hurt, and even broken. Something in his eyes reminds me of Ilkay, maybe Logan, I’m not sure, but I’ve seen that look somewhere before.
“I’m so sorry, for everything,” his voice is a soft whisper, his eyes sad, as a single tear runs down his right cheek and drips to the floor. A dirty hand grabs mine and holds it tight, the fingertips bloody, looking like raw meat. They’ve removed his nails. Holy-fucking-shit! Must be the yelling we’ve heard before.
“They have Jackson,” his voice is so soft and weak, but I heard it as clear as daylight. “He fought to protect me and they beat him up.” My stomach churns and it feels as if the bean is trying to press all my organs up my throat at once. The demon clutching my spine increases his grip causing a dull ache to spread through my body.
“He’s okay for now. That son is tough. He is not going down easily,” he says proudly. I smile. That’s Jackson alright.
“Suppose it’s been forced into him … all the shit they had to go through. And I could not protect them from it. I’m so sorry.” I’m not sure what he’s talking about. But I can feel the regret in his aura.
Breathe, in-out, in-out, breathe, in-out, in-out, just keep breathing. I blow out a long breath; take in a short one; then repeat. But it’s as if each breath robs me of oxygen instead of replenishing it in my lungs.
“Mel, stay calm, think of the bean …” Kiara’s hand on my shoulder helps to jag me from the rim of spiraling out of control. Long breath in … slow breath out … I feel my lungs fill up … working again.
“Mel, I wish we had more time to tell you how sorry I am for everything. I know I’ve made mistakes, but Jackson will explain it all when you get out of here.” His eyes are pleading with me for forgiveness but I don’t know if I can do that. I look at his mangled-up body and decide to smile at him, it’s not what he wants, but it is a start.
“I’m so glad you ended up with Damion, if it’s not destiny I don’t know what is. He’s a good lad. Mel, I’ve never stopped loving you or your brothers, never. Maybe one day you’ll understand and I hope then you can find it in your heart to forgive …”
“We need to get a little something from Daddy.” I didn’t even hear Tattoo-man unlock the door and give a rattled jerk at the sound of his deep voice. This time he brought a friend – the muscle man with the shaved head and uncontrolled beard from earlier. Harry is standing in the doorway. I get shoved away from my father’s body and then the tatted muscle man digs a knee onto my dad’s back and points a gun to his head.
Beard-jerk pins Dad’s left arm out in a tight grip to the ground and grips his wrist while holding out a knife. I jump up as if I was stung by a bee, Luke is now sitting up on the bed, his eyes still sleepy. I need to get to him, I need to protect him.
“You might want to close your eyes,” Harry says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Instinctively I draw the blanket over Luke’s head while Kiara obediently closes her eyes with her hands.
Look away, Mel, look away now. But I can’t.
Tattoo-jerk slams the knife down and with a sickening bump-splat noise my father’s pinky lays on the ground separate from his hand. My father’s groan rings in my ears and I put my fist into my mouth to keep myself from making a sound or puking … whichever comes first.
Kiara chooses to open her eyes just when Tattoo-jerk picks up the cut-off limb while simultaneously wiping his knife clean against his sleeve. She looks at my father’s hand and lets out a scream that might just wake the dead, before slamming her hand over her mouth. Luke squirms viciously under the blanket and I let him go. His head pops out and he stares at the bloody scene in silence … frozen with shock.
“Oh, come on girls, we need something to send to your family, and you don’t want me cutting off your fingers now, do you?” Harry smirks before they close the door and I hear the tell-tale sound of the lock. My father is clutching his disfigured hand, his face bloodless, while the red liquid oozes through his fingers covering the wound. The look in his eyes mirrors mine, terrifying FEAR.
Date = 21 January
Place = San Francisco (UCSF Mission Bay Medical) (Uncle John’s house)
POV – Damion
Boring, boring, boring! Can anything be worse than going from one place of waiting for tests to the next place, waiting for more tests? At least I’m about done, just a brain scan left, but they shifted an emergency in before us.
I understand the situation, it’s just that I’m not very good at waiting and sitting motionless for long periods of time. My leg is bumping up and down impatiently; neither waiting nor patience are even in the first one hundred things I’m good at. Sitting still is a challenge for me … it’s always been. A mischievous grin creeps over my face as I recall the number of times I got in trouble at school for this exact reason.
This quarterly checkup that Mark insists on is the worst part of my job.
I take a sip from my Starbucks coffee, envying Sean sitting quietly in his chair reading a magazine. Shifting in the chair for probably the hundredth time, I give the girl at the desk a lopsided smile, her constant flirty stares towards me not going unnoticed. A year ago I would have been flattered, maybe even seduced her into a quick blowjob to pass the time, but all that’s in the past. All I can think about is Melaena and how I’ll never get enough of her. I put my hand inside my pocket, my fingers brushing over the velvet box with the ring. I hope it’s not too soon.
I shake my head thinking about how Jackson always warns us to not get hooked by a voodoo pussy, and here I am, slam-dunked by his sister’s spellbound vagina. But that’s not why I’m in love with her. It’s everything about her. All of her.
Even if I can never have sex with her again – and I might burst and blow op if that happens – but if it does, I still want to be with her forever. She’s just the cutest thing out there in the world.
The ringing of my phone gets my head out of Melaena’s womanly parts, while the busty brunette at the counter gives me the no-phones-allowed look and points to the sign that proves it. So I get up and walk outside, thankful for the distraction. Before I can even say hello my mom shouts hysterically and I almost drop the cup of coffee in my other hand.
“Damion, Luke is gone … kidnapped!” I can hear she’s terrified – crying, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Calm down Mom.” I put the Starbucks cup on the ledge – I’m currently standing in the hallway looking through a huge window, barely noticing the hustle and bustle on the other side.
“Mom, are you sure? Where?” I try to keep calm, needing her to give me as much information as she can in her state.
“Yes, I was late … just a few minutes … and he was not there. One of the kids saw him getting pushed into a white van! I went home, but he’s not here either.”
“Where’s dad?”
“He’s busy calling Luke’s friends.”
“I’ll be right there.” I hang up and instinctively call Mel – needing to hear her voice, to know that she’s safe. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. The same thing happens when I call Kiara. I yell at the brunette that we need to go and pull Sean from his chair unceremoniously. He throws the magazine onto the table and we sprint down the hall.
While I run to my truck I try Mel’s phone again. This time it is ringing and I sigh with relief, but it’s short-lived. Somebody hangs up without answering! What the fuck?
Beep, beep!
I stare at the phone in disbelief, the message ties my already knotted guts up even more.
Mel: Mayday! Mayday! Crash boom bang!
Then a photo appears of a mangled-up car – Mel’s car! Fuck! I grab the bull-bar of my truck when my knees buckle, feeling faint and my heartbeat increases as if heading for the checkered flag. Fucking asshole has her phone.
I look at the time, I’ve been in that fucking hospital for almost 4 hours, while the whole time she’s been … what? … dead, kidnapped, injured – WHAT? I look at Sean and tell him to keep on calling Kiara’s phone.
My thumb pushes the little green telephone symbol under Mel’s name – waiting with anticipated breath – hoping to hear her voice this time. But the fucking universe is against me, like usual.
“Loverboy, just the person I was looking for.”
“Who’s this? Where’s Mel?” The guy makes some clapping sounds with his tongue.
“Tsk-tsk, so many questions. Just call me Darren … or D for short. I need you to do exactly as I say.” I know that voice. Forcing myself to listen, to remember, but I just can’t place it in my screwed-up head.
I stop dead in my tracks, waiting for him to continue. I need to stay calm and collected – he’s going to try and rile me up. I take a deep breath. My hands are trembling.
Breathe, breathe, breathe! Don’t let him see my weakness, stay in control. If I lose control now, he wins the battle. Sean signals to me that Kiara is not answering her phone with a worried look in his eyes.