“Right. I need to get comfortable with this sort of thing. All business.”
I downed my wine and grabbed the key, heading for the elevator.
With each of the seven dings, my heart pounded harder.
This is your dream, this is your dream, this is your dream…
I repeated this mantra with every step as I walked down the long hallway that led to the penthouse suite. When I found it, I stood in front of the large, carved wooden doors for several long moments, trying to get my heart rate to return to normal.
Finally, with trembling hands, I reached up and knocked. The bartender had given me the key, but I wasn’t about to just open the door.
“It’s open!” A muffled female voice called out. Gingerly, I tried the doorknob. It gave and my heart skipped a beat.
Slowly, I took a step in, my knees shaking, as I closed the door behind me. I waited for further instruction, but was met with the faint sound of music. A long hallway stretched out before me, leading into a larger room.
I took a deep breath, and began walked down it, my heels clicking with each step on the expensive hardwood floors.
With each step, the music became louder, until I realized I was hearing one of Julia’s favorite songs — Immigrant Song, by Led Zeppelin.
“What the hell?” I whispered, wondering once again if I should turn around and run like hell.
Instead, I went against every instinct, curiosity getting the best of me.
I turned the corner and froze as I took in the scene in front of me.
Mona sat a desk in the corner, facing me.
Spread out in front of her were several rolls of duct tape, an X-Acto Knife, and a half finished portrait. She had a lit joint in one hand and a crystal snifter filled with whiskey in the other.
She smiled at me, a smile that was eerily serene.
Her eyes were wild and wide with excitement.
Sitting next to the portrait on the desk was a small black handgun.
“You!” I cried.
“Hi, baby,” she cooed, gently. She put down the joint and the glass, rushing over and embracing me before I could push her away. “It’s so good to see you!”
“I thought…”
My head spun, my heart racing even harder than when I thought she was somebody who wanted to buy my art.
“I know, baby,” she said, releasing me and staring into my eyes. “I’m sorry I had to lie to get you here. I tried to get Grace to help, but she’s useless. I just need to talk to you, Libby.”
I shook my head, looking over my shoulder for the exit.
She walked back to the desk, standing behind it with a creepy smile on her face. She looked so happy, it was almost sickening.
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” I said, my anger beginning to simmer.
“That’s perfectly fine,” she said, with a dismissive wave. “I have so much to say I can talk for both of us.” She laughed nervously. “Come over here and look at this, baby.”
Morbid curiosity got the better of me and I took a few steps forward, looking down at the piece she was working on, yet still keeping my distance.
“What do you think?”
Once I saw what it was, I took a step back in disbelief.
It was only half-finished, but it was obvious what it was — a portrait of me and Bullet having dinner at Le Pigeon last night.
“I just started today, but I’m working fast,” she said, lifting her chin proudly.
“You’ve been following me?” I asked, shaking my head.
“Oh, just a little. It’s harmless, really, don’t get upset.”
“I can’t be here.” I swallowed hard, turning on my heel to leave. I’d taken four steps when a loud shot rang out, followed by the immediate sound of glass breaking, my ears ringing from the sound. I ducked in fear, panic rising in my throat. I looked behind me and saw Mona’s gun smoking in her hand and the window shattered beside her, the extreme wind flinging rain into the room, the curtains blowing into the room.
“Sit down, Libby,” Mona said, her voice demanding and low. “These things ricochet, they’re dangerous. Don’t make me shoot again, baby.”
Trembling, I lowered myself onto a nearby sofa, fear gripping my heart. I hadn’t forgotten how crazy she was. I hadn’t forgotten how she’d hurt Slade. I still didn’t know what she’d done to Bullet, but I was convinced it was fucked up. Not to mention the trauma she’d done to me, the way she’d screwed up my life, the pain and confusion she’d left me with.
Those goddamned apples!
“Thank you, baby,” she said, her voice high and happy again. She put the gun down and picked up the joint, taking a big drag from it, huge puffs of billowy smoke filling the air.
“Want some?” she asked, holding it out to me. I shook my head silently, trying to regulate my breathing.
Mona was unpredictable. I needed to keep my wits about me, and I suddenly regretted drinking that wine earlier.
Even more so, I wished like hell I’d told somebody where I was headed tonight. Julia, Bullet, my parents, anyone…
“I’m so glad we finally have some time together to talk,” she began. “I think it’s important you understand the whole story. I really want to be in your life, Libby.”
“I want nothing to do with you, Mona,” I said, my voice shaking. “You’re an awful person.”
She nodded, looking at me sadly.
“It’s totally understandable that you think that, baby,” she said.
“Stop calling me ‘baby’.”
“Right!” she agreed, the creepy smile back on her face, “because you are so grown up now, aren’t you?” She grew wistful, staring at me. “I missed your entire childhood.”
“That was your choice,” I said.
“It was,” she said, her voice low. Wind continued to rattle the curtains behind her, almost drowning out her words. “I felt it was the best thing at the time. I was wrong, of course. Did Grace tell you the story? Did she tell you everything?”
“She told me you broke into the museum and she arrested you. That’s all.”
She nodded, her voice far away and distant as she continued.
“I told her I was pregnant, but she didn’t care. In fact, I’d just found out that day. I was a mess back then, a huge hot mess. My boyfriend was an abusive asshole, but the moment I found out you existed, I vowed to change. I had such big plans for us…”
Her voice trailed off and she looked away, but I saw the tears that sprang to her eyes. Her eyes that looked just like mine. I turned away. It was too much. I didn’t want to hear any of this. I didn’t want to know anything about her. In fact, I wished like hell she didn’t exist at all.
“I found a dog that day, too. But I knew I couldn’t take care of him. But, he was so cute! A little black and white ball of fur. I gave him up to the shelter, because of you, you know. I wanted to be able to give you all my energy, to ensure that there were no obstacles to keeping you safe.”
“Apparently, you failed,” I snapped.
She looked as if I’d slapped her, but she recovered quickly.
“I certainly did fail,” she said, nodding. “I never should have gone back to him. Jacob, I mean. He’s your father.”
“He’s not my father and you are not my mother,” I snapped again, my anger raging now.
She sighed, nodding, the curtains blowing behind her, rain beginning to pool on the floor. I felt like I was in a dream, a movie — a terrible nightmare of a horror film. The gun lay on the table between us like a ticking bomb.
“You know what I mean,” she said, sipping from her glass. “Anyway, he was a real asshole. But I didn’t know what to do. My plan was to leave him right away. But he convinced me to go into the museum with him that night, even though I resisted. I was afraid he’d beat me again, and I didn’t want you to get hurt, so I went along. It was the worst mistake of my life.”
“Is that so?” I said. “Even worse than kidnapping me and holding me hos
tage for weeks, Mona?”
She stopped, nodding.
“I understand that you’re angry, baby. I do. I would be angry, too. But if you just give me a chance, you’ll see I’m a good person.”
“A good person?” I cried, almost losing it, my voice rising in anger. “Mona, you kidnapped Grace’s baby and hit her in the head! You had someone beat the shit out of Slade! And I don’t know what you did to Bullet, but it wasn’t good.”
“Bullet?” she asked, with a sly smile. “Oh, honey, don’t you worry about that! That man is devoted to you, that’s for sure.”
I shook my head, looking at her with disgust. “You’re pathetic. You’re not a good person, Mona. I don’t know if you ever were, but I don’t see it. And nothing you are saying to me is convincing me otherwise.”
She sighed, picking up her glass and taking another swig.
“I knew this wouldn’t be easy,” she said. “Tell me about your parents, Libby.”
“My parents?” I repeated. “They’re wonderful, kind people. They took great care of me and my brother. Until he died. And after that, they made sure to look after me, to make sure I was getting the help I needed, even in the midst of their own grief. Do you know what that means, Mona? To help someone, even when you’re hurting?”
“Oh, Libby, I didn’t know, I’m so sorry.”
“There’s so much you don’t know. But you don’t care about me. You don’t care about my happiness. All you care about it begging me to forgive you so you can go on with your life guilt-free. But that’s never going to happen, Mona. I’ll never forgive you. As long as I live, I’ll never forgive you!”
I was shouting now, tears streaming down my face, and at some point, I’d stood up. I towered over Mona as she sat at the desk, looking up at me with a pained expression on her face.
Disgusted with my tears, I wiped them away quickly.
“I am so sorry I hurt you, Libby,” she said, her words gentle and slow. “I really am. I’m sorry for everything. I didn’t know you were my daughter when I kidnapped you. I didn’t know until it was almost all over, when Grace told me your name. And when I found out, I was mortified. If I’d known, I’d never have hurt you. I wouldn’t have taken you.”
“And yet, here you are, lying to get me here. Nothing’s changed, Mona. You’re only thinking of yourself.”
“That’s not true, Libby! I want you to know the truth so you can be free!”
“Free from what?”
“Free from thinking I’m a part of you! This evil that runs through my veins, it doesn’t run through yours! The last thing I want is for you to think you’ve inherited my craziness. You haven’t. Look at you! You’re amazing, baby! You’re talented, but more than that, you’re kind and sweet. You know how to love. I’ve seen the way you look at Bullet, it’s obvious. You have an open heart, no matter all the stuff you’ve gone through, no matter that I’m your mother.”
“You’re not my mother, goddammit!” I shouted.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she whispered, putting up a hand. “You’re right. I’m no mother. But you’ll always be my baby, Libby. That will never change.”
“Mona, I’m sorry all that shit happened to you. I’m sure being in jail sucked. I can’t imagine how you must have felt to choose to give up your child. But I’ve got a good life, Mona. And you’ve done nothing but cause me pain. I don’t have room for that in my life. I don’t have room for you!”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
MONA
I’d dreamt of this moment. When I could finally explain myself to Libby, when she’d finally listen to my story and she’d understand why I’d done what I’d done.
But I was blowing it.
My emotions were getting to me, and I’d scared her again by shooting off the gun, and I could tell the only thing she wanted to do was leave.
“I get it, I do,” I said. “And I’m not asking for anything right away. I’m just asking you to think about it, Libby. Think about giving me just a little bit of time. We can start slow. We can go for coffee, get to know each other. Just let me love you, baby, please can’t we just try?”
I was begging now.
I’d never begged for anything in my life. I was Mona Fucking Superhero. The woman whose superpower was getting people to say yes.
Obviously, my powers were useless on Libby.
She was angry. She was hurt. She felt betrayed by me, over and over, no doubt. But I was convinced if I just kept talking, she’d come around.
“When I found out you were my daughter, Libby, I was shocked. But then, you know, it all made sense. We connected so strongly that first night we met, do you remember? We drove around the city in the back of the limo after my art show and talked all night. Can’t we just go back to that moment and start over? God, I should have known it was you that night! I saw you across the room and I knew the second I saw you that you were special. That you’d be someone important in my life. And it was true, wasn’t it? You’re irreplaceable now. I need you, Libby. Nobody else will do.”
“You talk about me like I’m a possession, Mona. I’m not some pretty object you place on a shelf! I’m a person!”
“That’s not what I meant, Libby. Please, if you can just find it in your heart to hate me just a little less, then I won’t have to —.”
“Police! Open up!” A huge bang sounded on the door, startling both of us. I looked over at Libby, who’s eyes were wide with relief.
I burst out laughing.
“The cops!” I cried. “Who called the cops?”
“Probably someone who heard you shooting a fucking gun,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “Look, it’s over, Mona, just give it up.”
She started toward the door and I grabbed her arm.
“Don’t move!”
“Mona, for god’s sake!” she cried, twisting her arm from my grip.
I grabbed the gun and clicked the safety and she froze.
“Mona! Put the fucking gun down!”
“Police! Open up now or we’ll shoot!” They banged again and I pushed Libby behind me, laughing again. This was all so absurd.
How had everything gone so bad, so quickly?
“Mona, we have to open the door! Please!” Libby begged.
“No, baby, don’t worry,” I said, shaking my head. “If we don’t answer, they’ll go away. I promise. Trust me.”
“They’re going to shoot the door down!” She cried.
“No, they won’t. They’re not going to sh —.”
Shots rang out, piercing through the door. I turned quickly, pushing Libby down on the floor and landing on top of her.
White-hot bullets pierced my back.
The door burst open as I gasped for breath, Libby’s face inches from mine.
“Mona!” she cried. “Mona! Are you okay?”
“Are you hurt?” I asked, my words slow and painful, my eyes wide in disbelief.
“No!” she cried, her voice filled with panic. “I’m okay, but you…Mona!”
She wasn’t hurt.
She was okay.
I’d saved her.
My baby. I saved her life.
I protected her.
My eyes fluttered as a peaceful smile spread across my face before I closed them for the last time.
EPILOGUE
SIX WEEKS LATER
The Breeze Block Gallery was packed to capacity.
Gods and all their families filled the place and there were sculptures, leather, muscles and smiles wall-to-wall.
Libby’s heart was so full she was sure it might burst. She’d been congratulated so many times she’d stopped counting.
And Bullet stood by her side through it all.
After Mona’s death, he’d been her rock.
She’d taken it so hard, convinced Mona never would have died if it hadn’t been for her. Mona saved her, and as hard as that was to reconcile with the evil woman Libby had convinced herself she’d been borne from, the love of her parent’s and Bullet,
along with the guidance of an experienced therapist, were helping her navigate the loss.
A few weeks after Mona’s funeral, she’d been contacted by a lawyer. Mona left her everything she owned. All of her unsold art pieces, her apartment, all her money, and even the weird little ghost town at the foot of Mt. Hood where it had all started — they were all Libby’s now.
Libby wanted none of it, although she still hadn’t found the strength to get rid of it. She’d decided to sell most of the pieces and the town and then donate everything to charity.
Julia was trying to convince her to keep it all, as compensation for all the pain Mona had caused, but Libby didn’t want any part of it. She was contemplating keeping a few of the art pieces, but she wasn’t quite sure yet.
Everything Mona had left her was tainted with pain.
Of course, not everyone felt that way. Once word got out that Libby was the owner of Mona’s work, she’d been inundated with offers from around the country from potential buyers, offering her so much money her head spun.
Sure, it would have been easy to say yes, to keep the money to live off for the rest of her life, but once again, Libby was anxious to finally move on with her life.
She wanted normalcy.
She wanted nothing more than to be a struggling artist, to experience her own journey, to find the road to her own success.
Instead, now that the world knew who she was, thanks to some meddling journalists who’d picked up the story, she feared she’d forever live in Mona’s shadow.
“Is this who I think it is?” Wreck asked, pointing at one of the pieces, as she and Bullet slowly walked hand in hand around the gallery, greeting everyone.
She’d worked so hard the last month, throwing herself into her work, determined to have a successful first show, despite all the trauma she’d gone through.
“Sure is,” Libby replied. “It’s called Eyes Wide Open.”
This sculpture was an eight foot tall Oak tree, with two tiny, identical owls sitting on one of the branches.
“Maybe we should buy this one for the clubhouse,” Grace said. Sadie was bundled up in her arms, and Ryder stood by their side, the beaming proud papa. “I think Oliver and Olivia would like to see this.”
Gods of Chaos MC Box Set 4 Page 28
