by Sandra Raine
"And the women?. . .CeCe, Mrs. Ray. . .Tanya?"
"Do you really want to know the truth, Jane?"
In actuality. . .I didn't want to know 'cause I already knew. They were already facing the sexual torments of his hell. And my conclusion. . .it was best not to think about it.
"Since we're on the subject. . .How did you feel, seeing those men killed, I mean?"
"Honestly. . .I felt. . .nothing."
"That's dangerous."
"After what I just been through. . .it doesn't even begin to compare."
"How do you figure?"
"Those men are dead, Mr. K. . .I'm still alive."
It took me a moment to also come to the conclusion that while I may not have had a real father in my life like I once believed I had, that maybe somewhere deep down I was truly longing for one, and Mr. K was willing, and whole heartedly. It didn't take me long to find comfort within those thoughts no longer plaguing the What if's? as I had already found the truth.
I rose from my seat and walked around Mr. K's desk and stood myself before him. In his eyes I could clearly see the pain of my pain slowly becoming a distant memory for him, for us. And without giving my action a second thought, I knelt down in front of him and placed my head gently against his knee and closed my eyes and sighed the way I used to sigh whenever I felt secure in Mr. Parker's arms when I believed he was my father.
"I'm sorry, dad, but I have to go."
Mr. K ran a gentle hand up and down my hair. "I know," he said genuinely, "Jonah?" And just like my past distinguishing forever in the darkness, so did Mr. K's voice.
"Are you sure you'd rather take the bus than the boss's Jet, Jane?" Jonah said in slight confusion as he threw the gear in park leaving the engine to continue idling.
"Yes, I'm sure." I said. Jonah said nothing more and leaned across the backseat of the Suburban.
"This is for you," he then said handing me a small pink designer purse; the label read Ed Hardy. I smirked thinking that this is exactly what a father would give his daughter. The purse felt slightly heavy in my hand. And I didn't need to open it to understand that it contained a bulk of cash.
"Here," Jonah said handing me a piece of paper.
"What is it?"
"My personal cell."
"Why?"
"In case you decide you need a man to take care of you."
I smirked again, and left it at that. I shoved the paper into my purse and opened the door and stepped out with Jonah meeting me half-way around the passenger's door.
"Thank you," I muttered while Jonah closed the door. He took a stern hold of my hand and kissed me nervously on the cheek. My heart lit up but then quickly extinguished; I knew real love was going to take some time but I was willing to risk it. . .in time.
Chapter 10
March 2nd, 2012
El Monte, California -
In red cursive lettering the marquee sign read:
"Panaderia Anna"
The bakery was brimming with Hispanic people, young and old, all smiles, not a single look of disdain, sorrow or stress. . .just simple happiness. And their happiness coerced me to smile; something I had not done in a long time.
I lingered near the front door of the bakery watching the constant commotion of shoppers as they entered, bought their bread, and walked out; some pleased, others speaking of simple pleasures, things they had planned for the morning, for the rest of day.
Two hours had passed by the time Anna glanced up from the register and saw me standing there. She looked so beautiful, so at peace, happy to be alive. And that alone brought absolute comfort to me 'cause I felt like I had something to do with her happiness.
"Jane! Oh, my God, Jane!" Anna exclaimed so loud that her overzealousness startled some of the customers. But she didn't care. She just darted around the register, not walking but running. Her eyes instantly filled with tears of joy as I met her half-way. and together we fell into each other's arms like two past ordinary average bf's who hadn't seen each other in ages! It was truly exhilarating that not even words could express how we both felt particularly the way we just stood there for the longest moment hugging and shedding happy tears.
"Is. . .is she here?" I finally asked beneath the heartfelt reunion.
"Yes she is!" Anna bellowed in total awe while wiping my tears away along with hers. "Stay here, okay?" I nodded and continued to sniff back those tears of joy. My heart began to race with an anxiousness about seeing Bree, wondering what she looked like, if she was going to be happy seeing me after all that had happened that soon I began to worry until. . .
"JANE!" Bree, too, suddenly exclaimed from across the bakery. She hadn't even cleared the double kitchen doors when her eyes spotted me.
I was speechless at first upon seeing Bree 'cause she, too, looked so beautiful, so at peace and happy to be alive.
Once Bree fell joyously into my arms I made it a point to hold her tight, all the while vowing in my heart to never let her go. She was still my sister no matter how she was painted to be. And together we shared a bond, a family bond. And while not a blood bond it was still something that just couldn't easily be ignored or forgotten or thrown away. And that alone was worth surviving for.
"Is it over?" Bree finally asked with hope in her angelic voice.
"Yes." I said not missing a single beat.
"So we're free? I mean, truly and honestly, free?"
"Yes. . .we are truly and finally. . .free."
Bree wrapped her arms around my waist again and squeezed me hard. And together we just stood there lost in each other's embrace, hugging and laughing - both of us oblivious to the commotion of the bakery all around us. But we didn't care. We just continued to stand there hugging and hugging like free girls having escaped all the horrors in the world. . .we hugged.
It was a good day.
~ jane
a river
of water blood
f l o w s
through my veins
they whisper
my name;
jane
jane
jane
Devlin De La Chapa, 2015
June, 1994
Ontario, Canada ~
It was supposed to have been a simple job. And the rules were simple: Take the girl.
But that wasn't the case for the young man who had been eyeing the girl for several nights now. She was a waitress in a semi-decent diner he had been frequenting for the past week. The man speculated that the girl couldn't have been no more than sixteen, maybe even fifteen because her posture was unsteady and her body was still in the pubescent throes of womanhood, and she was lollipop pretty - the girl in every aspect was. . .perfect. The man prophesized that she, along with the other two girls he recently acquired, would make him, as well as his partner, a gross amount of money that is until he took her to the nearest motel and took her to bed.
Their unconventional relationship happened quickly, yet unexpectedly. Considering that the young man already had a fiancé and a four-year-old son stashed in an affluent suburban neighborhood in Portland, Oregon, and he was beginning to have second thoughts about returning to them. There was something unabridged about the girl he had come to hopelessly and helplessly fall in love with. And the thought of losing her to his greed and the greed of others left him feeling less-than-tempted about letting her go so he stayed in Ontario even after the girl's father threatened to kill him and disown her for their blasphemous affair; even after she remained in high school where she was labeled a whore; even after he proposed to her; even after she became pregnant with his daughter - nothing swayed him to move on until his little business grew into a multi-million dollar business which included a ruthless trio of brothers as business partners who's appetites for sex, young girls and money superceded above all else, including his business ethics.
It was then that the young man decided to put what was valuable behind him before the young girl and their daughter became a conflict of interest. . .or so he believed.
>
JANE.
Chapter 1
March 1st, 2012
New Orleans ~
"So," Viktor said settling himself down behind the mahogany black desk. "What do you think?"
Jonah casually paced his space for a moment, pondering carefully over his boss's inquiry as to not answer with something he would later regret.
Jonah cleared his throat. "I think if she finds out the absolute truth, she'll give you hell to pay."
"Well," Viktor said reaching into his gold plated cigar box, "the less she knows, the better off she'll be. Wouldn't you agree?" he swayed removing the cap around the end of his cigar prior to giving it a solid clean cut with his monogrammed engraved cigar cutter; a personal gift from a past Canadian lover, who to this day, still managed to move him emotionally.
"Agreed." Jonah replied without a hint of contention, yet Viktor could still sense his doubt.
"Good. Now leave me." Jonah nodded against Viktor's request and exited his boss's office leaving Viktor to his thoughts as he lit his cigar and puffed steadily for a brief minute causing a plume of sweet smoke to bellow up around him. It wasn't until that plume of smoke had cleared his clouded vision when the double solid oak doors to his office suddenly opened up with anticipation and the crawlings of his past scrambled in carrying a warrant with five shot guns specifically trained on him.
"Viktor Kasa, I hereby place you under arrest."
As the Agent read Viktor his rights, Viktor couldn't begin to think of anything else other than the fact on how he admired Jane's unwavering vindictiveness in which he grasp as no more than a stern gene in their dysfunctional lineage. And the last thing that swept across Viktor's impassive face as the handcuffs came clasping down on both his wrists was a smile - his mother would have been so proud.
"Viktor Kasa are you aware of your rights?" The Agent inquired. Viktor smirked almost toyingly neither nodding nor verbally agreeing leaving the Agent battling back pride. "Leave us." the Agent then gestured to the men. The men obediently, yet cautiously drew back their weapons and exited Viktor Kasa's office. "Alright then," the Agent then agreed pulling up a nearby chair and taking a seat across from Viktor. "Anna Jane Parker?. . .Where is she? I know that you know where she is, Vik? So I'll ask you again: Where is my daughter?"
"Ah!" Viktor grinned. "Things might go a lot smoother, Madam Agent, if you removed the cuffs."
"Perhaps things would go a lot smoother if I just haul your ass in, hmm?"
"If you think that's the solution. . .then by all means."
"Goddamn it, Viktor!" The Agent belted in frustration. "This isn't a fucking game!"
"If this were a game, Madam Agent - "
"Oh cut the formality crap, Vik!" the Agent spat in disgust. "It's Sissy. . .Sissy Young. Remember?" Sissy scolded springing up from her seat and crossing to the credenza where Viktor housed some of his best Vodka; remembering how Viktor was - when he mattered to her - a connoisseur of Vodka, always returning home from one of his illegitimate business excursions with a bottle or two, and always claiming them to either be some rare commodity or the early beginnings to a business destined for global notoriety. Sissy reached for one of the bottles and poured herself a drink. And the second she swallowed the clear, crisp and odorless liquid it was then had she remembered why she stopped drinking, stopped drowning her sorrows in a bottle.
"I thought you gave up drinking?" Viktor casually reminded Sissy.
"I did," Sissy mustered downing the rest of her drink in one gulp.
"So when did you start back up?"
"Just now."
Viktor Kasa sighed out amidst Sissy's private grief to relinquish in his for the moment, remembering that dreaded phone call he made to her on the night her daughter was stolen off his ship; how she wailed like a banshee caught in slaughter; how the receiver thudded hard against the floor; and how the silence thereafter from Sissy literally fainting from the dreadful news coerced Viktor to fly back to Canada that very night so that she wouldn't grieve alone - he remembered. And it pained him that he still continued to remember right up to this very moment.
Viktor knew where Jane was, where she had been living these past six months, but in his heart he refused, simply refused, to divulge Jane's whereabouts to Sissy considering that Sissy was a creature of spontaneity, and for her to just show up unexpected, uninvited particularly in front of a girl she hadn't seen in sixteen years.
"You're holding back from me," Sissy accused Viktor when she crossed back to him and stood before him. She was no more than two seconds away from slugging him.
"Violence isn't going to solve this issue, Sissy," Viktor said reading Sissy's combative demeanor.
"No," Sissy then toyed pulling her Berretta from her holster and pointing it directly in Viktor's face. Viktor's throat juggled.
"Like I said," he said clearing his throat and gathering his composure. "Violence isn't going to solve this issue with Jane. So why don't you do us both a favor and put the gun away. Let's try and resolve this like civil adults, hmm?"
Sissy chagrined. "And how exactly are we to resolve this like civilized adults when you yourself can't resolve this issue alone. . .You, with all your so-called "illegitimate connections"?"
"Enough!" Viktor snapped. "And get these fucking cuffs off of me! I'm not a fucking animal. And you sure in the hell's aren't going to treat me like one!"
"Do you think Jane enjoyed having those exact cuffs cuffed to her when you and your men entrapped her?"
"Did Jonah tell you this?"
"No. A little birdie did."
"Goddamn it, Sissy!"
"Sucks, doesn't it, Vik, to be on the receiving end, and to no fault of your own."
"I'm not going to have this conversation with you or any other, Sissy, until you release me."
"And if I don't?" Sissy continued to toy.
"Then you'll never know Jane's whereabouts. Think you can live with that. . .I mean, not knowing what you could know except your pride got in the way?"
"You son-of-a-bitch!" Sissy spat, choking back tears of frustration and regret. "Ugh!" She then grunted and gritted between her teeth as she cocked back her gun and shoved it back into its holster. She then stomped around Viktor's chair, shoved his back forward, away from the chair's back rest, and uncuffed his hands. But before Sissy could collect Viktor's gratitude for letting him go despite the warrant for his arrest still in effect, Viktor was fast on his feet, tossing the chair across the room, and grabbing Sissy by her throat. Within a matter of seconds, Viktor Kasa had Sissy Young pinned up by her throat against the wall. And despite all her pleading tears, Viktor remained unmoved to release Sissy from his wrath particularly against the constant accusation that he was at fault. That he was to blame for their daughter having been stolen.
"Vik. . .pl. . .please. . .I mean. . .what. . .what. . .I mean. . .why. . .are you. . .doing this. . .to me?" Sissy pleaded, choking and gasping for air.
"Because you are as much to blame for Janie as I am!"
"Vik?"
"Because if it hadn't been for you smuggling Janie on my ship, none of this shit would be fucking happening!"
And with those very last words; words that were not only damaging to Sissy's ears, it made her understand that in spite of all she had done, in spite of what she had become, Viktor was right - this was all her fault. And she had never seen it like that. . .until now.
"Oh, God," Sissy said gasping for air, struggling to breathe. "Oh, God!" she then repeated, staggering toward the credenza to grab the open bottle of Vodka but Viktor had already cornered Sissy's thirst, holding out a bottle of water to her instead. Sissy, without uttering a word of gratitude toward Viktor's hospitality, literally ripped into the cap and downed the water.
When the hostility between Viktor and Sissy began to subside, Viktor retreated back to his desk and took his seat. And like the legit and hospitable boss that he wasn't, he pointed to a nearby chair and gestured for Sissy to have a seat. Sissy nodded, and pulled up the chair a
s close as she could get it to Viktor's desk, and sat and waited patiently for him to speak.
"I will be honest, Sissy, but I'm not sure about this girl Jane I've been consorting with. . .I mean," Viktor stammered, slightly undoubted as he reached for another cigar, snipping off the tip with his cigar cutter. "I'm not even sure she could be your Janie."
"Don't you mean. . .our?"
"I prefer not to go there," Viktor surmised. He lit his cigar and puffed to his heart's content.
"What would possess you to come to that conclusion?" Sissy inquired the second the smoke cleared Viktor's desk.
"Well for starters. . .This particular one. . .This Jane is actually Jane number six - "
"'Number six'?" Viktor nodded, puffing his cigar a second and third time. "I don't. . .I mean - "
"It's confusing, I know." Viktor assured, not the least bit phased by the allegation himself. "The man in question - "
"Yes. Mr. Parker."
"Has a fixation with the alias "Anna Jane". He had named all the girls he had stolen prior to Janie, 'Anna Jane'."
"Why would he do such a thing? I mean, what is his MO in that?"
"Maybe he likes the ring to it. Who the fuck really knows."
"C'mon, Vik. Just give me something. Please."
"I am 'giving' you something, Sissy. . .Information; information that I've only begun to receive myself. And what I'm telling you is that this 'Anna Jane Parker' in question may not be your. . .I mean, our Janie considering there have been many prior to her. For all we know, our Janie could be in someone else's hands. She may not even be in this country."
"No, Vik. I disagree. You're wrong. She's here. I know she's here. . .in the U.S.. And she's close. Very close. I mean. . .I can feel it. Can't you?"
"At this point, Sissy, it doesn't matter what or how I feel. What I do know is that Andrew, Robert and Dominic Ray are all one step ahead. They've proven that already."
