by Hayley Smyth
The light grew brighter now, and I was aware of several bodies standing before me.
“Sweet wife,” said a voice. It was Vladimir, but through the drug-induced haze, it could have been anyone. His fingers brushed against my hips, moving from the bone across my lower stomach to the other one. “Move her. We want them to be able to say goodbye to one another, don't we?” All the voices laughed, although, to my ears, it sounded like a weird distorted version of fairground music. Weird chimes and warped notes penetrated my ears.
Unable to open my eyes, all there was for me to do was feel my body moving, hands crawling across my skin as they unchained my ankles and wrists. Thanks to the blinding lights piercing my eyelids, I was only slightly aware of being moved out of this prison.
Vladimir, or who I thought was Vladimir, barked orders at the two sets of hands holding me up, my bare feet scraped against the cold stones of the floor, everything inside me was a twisted, confused mess. My mouth opened and closed to speak or to scream, but my brain could no longer remember how to transfer words to my lips.
We walked for what felt like miles, the lights changing from blinding and then throwing me back into complete darkness once more. Yet the coldness on my feet never changed; I never felt the softness of grass or the comfort of a carpet, stone after stone attacked my flesh.
After a while longer, there was another whoosh of air as a door opened. Had I had the strength I’d have been clawing at my flesh; it felt as though a hundred thousand bees were buzzing beneath the surface, stinging every single inch of me. It was agony. And I couldn’t tell anyone.
“Oh, Vladimir,” gushed voice one. “It’s exactly what I wanted.”
Vladimir laughed, a noise that was so distorted by now it sounded like thunder cracking right beside my ears. “I do listen, darling, you need to have more faith in me.”
Darling?
My body was thrown to the floor, my head cracking with the concrete, and then hands were gripping my face, using it to hold me off the floor.
“Look at me,” voice one spat. “Open your pretty little eyes, Ella.”
I tried. I tried so hard, but they refused.
“Open them!” The voice screamed, dropping my head to yank my eyes open with their fingers.
The light was blinding, as strong as the New Mexican sun, and I was staring directly into it. The face belonging to voice one didn’t come into focus straight away, my eyes fighting to cease all functionality, but I soon managed to see her. The beautiful woman who’s fingers were almost ripping my lids off. I didn’t recognize her. Not the green’s of her eyes, nor the sinister smile that formed on plump, blood-red lips.
“Ah, there she is,” she said smirking. “Welcome to Purgatory, babe.”
What?
The woman turned to face the men, who I could now see were Vladimir and Jozef. “You mind giving little mouse and me here a few minutes?”
Vladimir smiled at her. “Of course, pet.” And with that, the pair of them left me alone with this woman. Weirdly, I found myself wanting Vladimir to stay.
The door slid shut with a loud, reverberating bang, and then she was yanking me forwards, forcing me to sit on my bum, legs sprawled at awkward angles.
“So, Ella, I bet you’re feeling a little confused, huh?”
Yes.
She smiled, fingers tightening their hold against my lids. “Good. Reckon you can try and keep your eyes open for me, babe? I’m a little uncomfortable here.” She gestured to her stomach, and I saw the tell-tale swell of a pregnancy. She was dressed, though, in killer heels, a black tailored skirt-suit with crimson stripes running through the material. She was incredibly beautiful. Well kept. Everything I wasn’t at that moment in time.
I still couldn’t move or speak.
She made a show of slowly pulling her hands away from me, watching to see if my eyes fluttered shut once more. When she was certain I was paying attention, she stood, revealing her small yet intimidating height, before yanking a metal chair across the room, placing it just a few feet away from me and sitting down.
She regarded me as though I were trash; the sneer she wore told me she wasn’t here to make friends.
“Vladimir wanted to be here, but I call the shots around here now, honey, so try and stay with me, okay?”
My mouth opened, a weird O shape. There was so much I wanted to say but couldn’t; my body still ablaze.
“Who am I?” She said, raising an eyebrow.
I tried to shake my head...
“Ella!” She said in mock horror, placing a hand to her chest. “I have to say I’m a little insulted you haven’t figured it out yet.”
I was exhausted, tears now streaming down my face. I wanted Jax. I didn’t want to play these mind games anymore.
Standing, she smoothed her skirt down and crouched before me once again, gripping my jaw between perfect red nails. “Still don’t know?”
I looked at her face. Her beautiful face. I was certain I’d never seen her before. My eyes swept across her body, over the bump, remembering the way she and Vladimir had spoken to one another. And then it hit me.
But…that couldn’t be right, could it?
“Say it,” she growled, tongue poking out through her teeth.
I swallowed, gulped, tried to bring some moisture to my mouth and my lips.
She jerked me. “Say it!”
“Y-you’re….Amy…” I croaked.
“Bingo, babe. Got it in one.”
Jax.
“It’s now or never,” I said to Edith, whose skin still hadn’t regained its natural color.
She nodded. “I understand. Are you sure you don’t need me?”
I stared at my father’s number waiting for me to call on my phone and smiled. “I’m sure. We can’t have them suspecting anything. If you spend any more time with me, they may hold an intervention.”
Edith laughed, her warm eyes wrinkling. “Oh, my boy.” She ruffled my hair the way a grandmother might do her grandchild. “I’ll keep you and Ella in my prayers.”
Leaving me alone, I wasted no time and hit call on my phone.
My father answered within seconds.
“Is it time?” He asked.
“It’s time, pops.” I heard Carter’s voice in the background, and my blood ran cold, knowing what I knew. I wish I could have told them both the truth, bring all the evil and unspeakable secrets to the surface of our lives, but the last thing Carter needed was going in with an uncontrollable rage he may feel if he knew the truth.
Amy was alive.
And she was very much pregnant but not with Carter’s kid.
The baby she carried was Vladimir’s, and thanks to her sick little note Edith and I were the only ones who knew.
There was no way of getting my head around it all. The body I saw. The damn fucking funeral. Watching my best friend fall apart because he had lost the one woman he’d truly loved. He wasn’t perfect, but fuck, I never thought Amy would have ever dreamed of doing something like this. Maybe years ago, but not now.
“Vlad’s party is tomorrow, it’s the perfect opportunity. He’ll be preoccupied.”
“Carter wants to be the one to go,” I could hear my father’s smile. “I think he needs something to keep him busy.”
Yeah, no shit, I thought. Once this was over and done with, I’d have to tell him, giving Amy didn’t decide to make a surprise fucking entrance at any time.
“How’s Ella doing, son?”
Hearing her name made the ache in my heart burn. “I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean?”
I sighed. “After the funeral, there was some shit with one of Vlad’s men; he fucking despised me. We got home, and I was banged up pretty bad, dad, I haven’t seen her since.”
“Fuck…” his came come long and drawn.
“She’s alive, I know she is, I just don't know where she is.” I sparked up a cigarette and hung my arm out the open window of my bedroom. The world below me was chaotic as The Mans
ion started preparations for its party. It made the blood simmer underneath my skin, watching them all carry on as though Ella wasn’t missing. I don’t know why I was so surprised to see them not giving a fuck; it was only me who did.
“This time tomorrow, Jax, we’re gonna blow Purgatory to hell, anything or anyone that’s hiding will show itself.”
I didn’t fucking doubt that for a moment.
The next day or so was going to be insane chaos, a type of chaos that the Murdoch’s and Chro’s had somehow managed to avoid for generations, but enough was enough. My father was still strong, his men loyal, and just as passionate about putting an end to the shit that Purgatory brought. Yes, it might have meant business collapsing for us, yes, it might have meant that it’d take years to build up something again, but it was now or never.
I thought of Ella. The last time I remember seeing her. Fuck. Had that happened? The motel. Fucking Marco. I told Ella I’d do whatever I could to find her daughter, and I meant that.
Hang on, bird, I thought as I left my room.
Edith was scurrying back and forth, and she gave a soft, sly smile as she passed me on the stairs, arms burdened with clean bedding, face red from exertion. At the bottom of the stairs I watched as unknown faces lugged boxes in and out, Benny was in the middle of it all, giving orders; it was quite obvious the man needed to throw himself into something. I’d have to make it up to him for everything.
Passing through the crowds of men, walking through a cloud of musty sweat, and expensive aftershave, I made tracks for the patio. Since Marnie’s beating, I hadn’t seen her, either. Not that I gave a fuck, but there was something weird about the whole thing. The atmosphere felt different, as though the axis on which Vlad’s operation sat was beginning to tilt.
And Amy.
Where the fuck was she?
The writing on the note had been hers. The only woman I knew who still drew hearts above her I’s instead of just dotting them, the Y’s she wrote were always dramatic with curly tails.
Amy. Carter. Vlad. Marnie. I couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
Just behind the pool and around the edges of the building hung pretty lights, and it seemed my place of quiet wasn’t available right now; too many bodies fixing the place up.
Groaning, I turned and almost slammed into Benny.
“Jax, boss man wants you in the study.”
“Bent over or...?”
Benny smirked and shook his head. “Hey, I’m just the messenger.”
He went to walk off, but I called him back. “Are we okay?” I laughed. “I don’t mean to sound like a needy bitch, but…I owe you, man.”
Benny sighed. “You owe me shit. Forget anything ever happened. Marco never arrived at the motel, who knows where he is?” He raised his thick yet light eyebrows, and I got the hint.
Nodding, I said, “Right, got you. Thanks, bud.”
Together, we walked through the crowds. I didn’t say anything, but it seemed as though Benny was escorting me, walking me to the study door, and then promptly leaving. More hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I watched him walk off.
Something was off.
I rapped my knuckles on the door and waited for Vlad’s voice.
“Come in,” he called.
On entering, a wave of pain through my healing ribs hit me, taking my breath away.
“You okay there, Jax?”
I found the smile that was as fake as his concern for me and closed the door behind me, stepping farther into the room. “I’ll be fine, sir.”
Vlad was sat at his little table by the window, a decanter of whiskey or scotch in front of him, a sullen look on his greasy face. It seemed as though there was something on his mind, something that troubled him. I couldn’t imagine what that could be, given his line of work, but the air in The Mansion had changed, it was charged and electric, deadly and buzzing with a current I wasn’t sure any of us would survive.
“Please, have a seat, join me for a drink, my boy.” Vlad waved his arm to the unoccupied chair opposite him, and like an obedient puppy, I sat, my arm moving across my torso as another hit of agony tore through me.
In silence, Vladimir poured me a drink and pushed the glass across the table. Needing the relief the alcohol would bring me and my ribs, I knocked it back in one.
“Broken ribs are no fun, huh?” He said.
“No shit, sir.”
“I have to admit, my boy, you’ve surprised me.” Vlad smacked his lips as he drunk the last of his scotch. “It’s no secret that the Chrobak’s have never thought much of your family, a weak bloodline who are more likely to follow than lead.”
I swallowed the fury and let him continue; this was bait I was not going to chew.
“You, however, I truly believed, could bring a new reputation to the Murdoch name.” He sat back in his chair, stomach spilling over the waistband of his shorts.
Confused, I replied, “Thank you.”
He grinned. “You’ve taken a beating or two since being here, you’ve heard bad things said about people you care about, you fucked my wife with no worries of the consequences-”
“Wait, what-”
He held a fat palm up. “Now, Jaxon, you’re either incredibly brave or stupider than you look.”
Fuck. He got me. I had two options and a limited time to decide what one was best. “Sir, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” How the fuck did he know? Or was he bluffing? Jesus, I wanted to down the entire decanter of scotch.
“What part is confusing you, my boy?”
Cunt. “All of it, sir.”
He laughed, a deep mocking sound that made me want to cut my damn fucking ears off. “Oh, Jax, funny is also something I never associated with your family. You’ve taught me a lot since you’ve been here, that’s for sure.” He pushed back in his chair and rose, his feet carrying his overweight body back and forth across the floor. I remained motionless. “See, the thing is my boy, you’ve now put me in a bit of a tricky situation. I’m not sure how much your father has told you about the true history of our families, but once upon a time, Archibald and I worked well together. We weren’t friends per se, but thirty years ago, I was young and impressionable, still trying to please my father, and violence and bloodshed weren't something I liked. When you were born, your father made me promise never to recruit you or any brothers you may have. I swore to him, of course, and due to unforeseen circumstances, that had to change. Which I am deeply sorry for.”
He wasn’t, not at all. The grin stuck to his thin, evil lips.
Leaning on the table, his attempt to ascertain dominance over me, I watched his nostrils flare as he tried to keep his temper in check. “Jax, I’m not a stupid man, everything I do, there’s a reason why I do it. Everything I say, every course of action I take, and every decision that I make, I think about. In this world, one wrong move can be the end of you, and I’ve worked too long and too hard to let a goddamn fucking Murdoch ruin all I’ve built here.”
I didn’t take my eyes off of him; I refused to let him intimidate me. Not now. Not when we were so close to the end.
“But, you stuck your dick in my wife, son, and that’s nothing something I cannot tolerate.”
“Sir, I didn’t-” For an old man, he was quick. Had I seen his massive, ham fist come for my face, I would have avoided it. But I didn’t. Knuckles uppercut me, sending my head flying to one side, and my whole body, which was still healing, hummed in a new kind of agony as I wobbled in the chair. The cut across my cheek throbbed.
On instinct, I got to my feet and was nose to nose with this motherfucker before I could think about it. I was so close I could smell the fucking oil he used in his thinning hair, I could see the whites of his eyes with their bright red veins, the nose hair poking out the bottoms of his nostrils that waved as he breathed.
“There’s that fire I fucking love,” he growled, grinning still. With one hand, he pushed my chest, forcing me to sit back down. “My wife loves it too, no?”
I said shit. I done shit. I sat there and let him have the floor.
A silence descended upon us as Vladimir poured another drink and took his seat once more, his dark eyes regarded me for a while, how long I have no idea. The noises from outside, the men building, and setting up for the party suddenly infiltrated the room, momentarily disturbing our impasse.
A warmth tickled my upper lip, and I used the back of my hand to wipe the slow gush of blood, watching as the red mist surrounded the man before me.
“Now that we’ve simmered our tempers, I’ll continue.” He topped my glass up and repeated the motion of sliding across to me. “Luckily for you, I’m not calling the shots, and someone wants you alive.”
“Amy?” I said, defiant.
Vlad laughed but ignored my question. “Tonight, and no this wasn’t my idea, we’re having a little informal dinner to welcome you back. Eight p.m sharp, my boy.”
“And if I politely refuse?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Jaxon, just come to fucking dinner, humor me, it’s the least you can do after killing one of my best men.”
And there it was. He was beginning to show his cards, and I couldn’t fucking wait to show him my royal flush.
Chapter Thirty One
Carter.
It had been a long time since my blood had pumped through my veins, adrenalin rushing it through me like a wave, and I missed it. I’d missed working, I’d missed Jax and the calm he brought to my over-active imagination and hyper soul. Archie letting me help and get stuck into some hard grafting work had been the blessing I’d needed. Spending days working in the sunshine, nothing to be heard apart from the noise of the excavators roaring, hushing my mind and its one hundred mile per hour thoughts. For a little while, I’d felt useful again. Not the waste of space, piece of shit my father had tried to convince me I was.
Nighttime was torture, though. When the world was asleep and Archie’s house was silent and dark, Amy came to me. Vivid images so real I quite often thought she was back, dancing around the bedroom, singing, smiling, a hand resting on her growing belly. At nighttime everything I’d spent all day ignoring and forgetting would come back with force so powerful it would leave me paralyzed in bed, sweat dripping from every inch of my body, heart racing, stuttering and unable to keep up with the anger, the upset, the grief I felt.
