Abrupt

by Kathy Coopmans

  Sienna

  If I’d stopped to dwell even a fraction of a second today, I would have found myself rocking in a corner somewhere, letting the tears that threaten to fall streak down my face. I don’t know why I hold them in. It’s a riddle I can’t figure out. It’s like my glands are storing them in a large reservoir, waiting for my insides to collapse before they flood me out.

  A burst to open up my wounds and kill me.

  I haven’t had a good cry in months. It does not make me feel any better. It adds to what’s mincing me up inside. One of these days it’s going to, and I’m going to drown in a flash flood of despair and grief.

  Instead, I kept busy doing jobs at the restaurant that weren’t mine. I wiped down tables to try to wipe away the shame that lives inside me. I scrubbed toilets on my hands and knees, trying to scour the filth from my soul.

  I came home early and made dinner for my father like I do every night when I’m not working. I tried watching television, flipping through channels in search of something to make me laugh. I even tried taking a long relaxing bath. I’ve done everything to keep my mind off Lane and what’s coming now that he knows the truth.

  I’ve never felt so bad about hurting a person in my life, except Luca. And there’s so much more for Lane to find out.

  His reaction left me in an abrupt upheave. Raw and achy with a need to go to him. That wasn’t the way I wanted him to learn the truth, but he kept pushing. I knew it would come out sooner rather than later.

  If only I could turn back time to the day I found out I was pregnant. But time won’t stop in this cruel world. It’s the one thing that keeps on.

  It can deteriorate you as slow or as fast as it wants when you’ve made the biggest mistake of your life.

  Right now, I can’t think about how I want to run to Lane and give him the full explanation as to why I didn’t tell him. Not when I’m attached to the wall outside my father’s office as if I’ve been nailed to it when I need to be a woman with guts to stand and put one foot in front of the other to face him.

  You’d think I’d have the courage to do so when every day for years, that’s all I did was wake and put my feet to the floor, give myself an inner pep talk, place on my mask, and put one foot in front of the other.

  God, why didn’t I grab my son and run to my father? Now my child is paying for my sins when he shouldn’t be.

  My father is going to come unglued along with a heap of disappointment and hurt in me. Then there’s the wrath he will rein down on Lane. It’s wrapping around my neck like a noose. All it will take is a little yank, and I’ll choke.

  I have to believe the love my father has for me is much stronger than his hate toward disloyalty. If not, I don’t know what will happen. The thought of it makes me want to hunch over and heave.

  My knees tremble until they can no longer support my weight. I grip the edge of the door to stop myself from slumping to the floor.

  Maybe I should go back to my room. It’s been a long, trying day, and facing Lane has taken enough out of me. Beaten what little fight I had left.

  No. I have to do this. I have to prove I’m not as helpless as Joseph made me feel. I have to protect Lane any and every way I can.

  Joseph’s cold and heartless words of killing Luca echo in my ears. He said Luca would die if I ever told anyone he wasn’t his son. The way he used to describe in horrifying detail of how he’d snap my boy’s neck or blow his brains all over the wall while making me watch squeezes pain through my ribcage, pressing those toxic words into my heart. He has to know that after all this time I’d tell the truth.

  I can’t help but wonder if Luca will come back to me hurt in a way he’ll never recover from over Joseph knowing I’d finally speak the truth.

  It’s in moments like this, and today with Lane, I am least proud of the woman I turned out to be. A woman who betrayed so many people instead of trusting them. I didn’t think I could survive any other way, and that shames me to admit that I let Joseph put this fear inside me that doesn’t seem to fade away. It’s a blood-sucking parasite.

  I never wanted life to turn out this way. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just tried to exist while protecting the greatest gift Lane Mitchell could ever give me.

  God, help me before I go insane. My son is alive. I’ll get through this with my father, and then I’ll deal with Lane.

  Hope, hold on to it, Sienna.

  “Can I come in?” Not waiting for my father to answer, I enter his office, gripping my phone tightly in my hand as if it will give me strength, and take a seat on the couch, ignoring the wall of monitors that cover every square inch of this place. Even my bedroom and bathroom are under constant surveillance. The only time I have privacy is when I’m in the shower. In a way, I feel like I’m back in New York living in an asylum.

  I understand, but I despise it. I want to roam free in every meaning of the word. I’ll always have someone watching out for me, and honestly, I don’t even know they are there. I want to be free to live, love, laugh. To not wonder if Joseph is lurking in the shadows waiting to slit throats to get to me.

  Without acknowledging me, my father rolls the tips of his fingers over his temples. He’d been doing that during dinner too. I asked him if everything was okay, and he answered by asking me to bring him some pain reliever for his headache.

  Is he becoming ill or has something happened and he doesn’t want to tell me? Don’t let it be either. A possible stress headache I can handle. Anything else I can’t.

  “Does your head hurting have anything to do with whatever you’re keeping from me?” I ask, a headache of my own brewing in my skull as my thoughts crash against it.

  I suck down the lump of panic in my throat when he lifts his head, and I take a good look at him. His natural olive tan skin is as white as mine. One wouldn’t think I was his blood daughter by our complexion difference. His skin color is naturally tan, where mine is as light as can be. His hair used to be dark brown. Now it’s peppered with gray. Just one look at our eyes, and you know I’m Lorenzo Ricci’s daughter. Everything else about me comes from my mother, right down to the color of our hair.

  “You’re pale. Did you take your blood pressure medicine?” I do my best to read him. He looks like he’s going to vomit at any time. My father isn’t the type to wear his worrisome emotions on his sleeve. Not even in front of me.

  Since Luca’s disappearance, I’ve seen them more times than I care to count. It has my guilt licking a hot shameful trail up my legs.

  Green eyes study me, a mask of worry swirling in the age lines on his face.

  “I did. It’s after midnight. You should be in bed, Sienna.” I hate it when he speaks to me as if I were a child. He’s not going to get away with it this time. He will leave me in the dark when it comes to my son.

  “As should you. What are you keeping from me? Please, if you’ve heard anything, tell me.” My tone leaves no room for negotiation.

  Stress lines slat across his forehead as he tilts his head slightly. They’ve grown deeper since Luca went missing. Before, I never thought my father to look like he was approaching sixty. Every time I walk into the house, he appears to be older with bags under his eyes and blame resting on his shoulders. Luca’s disappearance isn’t good for his high blood pressure. Here I am about to add to it.

  Seeing him this way takes a little more out of me.

  My father is guilty of a lot of things. Murder, weapons trafficking, illegal gambling, law and government corruption. An endless list of unlawful activities, but not this. The weighed down blame sits on my shoulders.

  It’s long past time to be honest with my father. He should hear it from me and not Lane. I know he’ll confess, and it worries me that my father will lift the blame and place it on Lane.

  I won’t allow that to happen. It’s the only way I can make a scratch into denying Lane nearly the first ten years of Luca’s life.

  If my father is going to punish anyone, it will be me.

  “Si
enna, I promised to tell you of accuracies, not falsities. Every time we hear something, you get your hopes up. I won’t subject you to that anymore.” I don’t like how those words come out of his mouth. He’s lying right to my face.

  I have nothing if I don’t have hope. I’m not about to share that with him. Men like my father would never admit they believe in it. The mafia uses the word out of context, not taking into consideration what the word means. I think that’s one of the reasons why my mother brought up hope. She had to have had it to keep her strength at his side.

  “That’s not your choice to make.” Anger intensifies the emotion in his words.

  “It is my choice. I make the decisions. I have the final say. I rule this family, now go to bed.” His voice is firm and demanding. I don’t like it when he throws his control at me. Yet, I know what battles I’m going to win with him and what ones will be like talking to a wall, and this is a wall made out of solid brick.

  I don’t care. I’m not giving up.

  “No. I’m not a child. I can come and go, stay up as late as I please. You rule a kingdom, not me. Luca is your grandson, but he’s my son. If you know something, then you tell me. You don’t have the right to keep anything from me when it comes to him,” I say with frustration, doing my best not to beg.

  “And you are my daughter, my Bell’ Angelo. I’m the man who is supposed to shield you from any harm until the day I’m unable to any longer, the same as I should have your mother. That should have been my top priority in life. Instead, I put her, you, my grandson in jeopardy. I put the world I was born into before my family. Look where that got me. My only child didn’t trust me enough to tell me her husband did things to her that no woman should go through. You married into this world, flew miles away to where I couldn’t see what was happening when I should have seen a man like Joseph a mile away. So, yes, this rests on my shoulders. Christ, your mother must be rolling in her grave.” He clenches his fists, his frustration leaking through his clipped words.

  “It was my choice to marry Joseph.” He wouldn’t have stopped me, no matter what. I knew Joseph was being sent to New York. He was my escape from Lane.

  “I gave him my blessing to marry you. I put trust in him to take care of you. I trusted you to tell me if he didn’t. Somewhere I failed.”

  His face goes hard; I’d injured my father. I’ve known this all along. This is the first time he’s brought up how much, and I’m about to do it again.

  It has my heart rumbling like it’s going to pound right out of my chest as I witness a slew of remorse gather at the corners of his eyes.

  He swallows and drags his palms down his face.

  Memories of my past gather in my mind. My hands trembling as I squeeze my free hand to stop myself from scratching my skin as the unthinkable things Joseph did to me crawl across me like dirty little fire ants that grip and sting.

  “I do trust you. I always have. You didn’t fail me, yourself, or anyone. You are a good father. Please don’t ever let me hear you blame yourself again for the actions of others. Joseph is to blame for kidnapping Luca. No one forced his hand. I had to do what I had to do. Please tell me what you know.”

  Even Luca not being Joseph’s is no excuse for the man doing what he did. Luca is a child. He is innocent in the mess I made.

  I didn’t know I was pregnant when we married. If I did, I’d like to think I wouldn’t have married the monster I never knew him to be. Then again, who knows what I would have done to get away from Lane at the time.

  I was a stupid, naive girl with foolish dreams that ended up running straight into a nightmare that never ends.

  A vicious loop.

  I could go on for hours about how unfair life is, how we are born into cruelty—delivering it onto those that we deem deserve it. Our lives are what they are. We are criminals. It was me who chose to continue to live a lifestyle my father promised wouldn’t touch Luca if taking over wasn’t something he didn’t want to do. My boy wanted nothing to do with it. He’s into numbers. A math genius like Lane. I love that he’s like his dad in so many ways. Ways that will unleash those tears and shove me farther into darkness if I think too long about them.

  Maybe that’s what I need is to let loose and cry.

  “I hate myself for being weak and timid more than ever over the choice I made, Father. It has affected our boy.” My father, at times, can be harsh like he is right now. He never was with Luca. He adores that kid.

  “I’m proud of you for putting Luca above yourself. It still doesn’t make it easy for me.” He stares at me a moment, the veins in his temples protruding. I can see his pulse beating in them from here. A sure sign he knows something, and I could scream until I’m blue in the face, and he won’t tell me. I have to trust that if anyone catches a lead that they believe to be true, he will.

  My stomach roils with guilt as I watch the breaking of his heart all over again. It’s a horror show that comes to life. It has to end with the people I love staying alive. If I die, then so be it, but not my father, my son, or anyone else.

  “I love you, Father. I would think you’re heartless if you didn’t worry about me.” My voice breaks, but I do my best to swallow down my grief and not add to his level of stress by arguing anymore.

  “I love you too, Sienna. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, for Luca, for those I love. I want my girl happy; I want our boy safe and happy too. I want him to grow up to be a good man. It saddens me, knowing the two of you weren’t happy. I want to know something, was Luca born prematurely because Joseph beat you?”

  I blink. The question is coming directly at me out of left field. Unexpected. It has my heart struggling to beat as if Joseph has his fist around it again, squeezing tight enough to cut off the air supply to my brain.

  Joseph and I told everyone Luca was born two months early. It was the only way to keep the truth hidden. There was a point in my pregnancy where I thought I was going into labor after Joseph wrapped his hands around my neck, squeezing while I gasped and choked until I passed out. I woke with the worst cramps. They had me doubled over with fear strumming through my veins. I wanted to call my doctor, but Joseph wouldn’t let me. He worked from home for days after that to make sure I didn’t disobey. I never told a soul about that. I never will.

  “No, that’s not why. I’m not the angel you think I am, Father. I’ve done a horrible thing. Something you don’t know. It’s unforgivable. It’s the reason I stayed with Joseph, the reason he took Luca, it’s the reason for everything.”

  Father’s eyes glass over with a myriad of mixed emotions. As soon as he learns the truth, anger will take over enough to shoot his blood pressure through the roof.

  A sudden flash of nervousness tumbles in my stomach. I want my father to think of me as he always has. I’ll never forgive myself if he didn’t look at me again the way he is now with so much proudness and respect despite what I just said. But I’m going to stand up and do the right thing for once in my life, no matter how much it pains me to say it and him to hear.

  “None of us are perfect, Sienna. Although, in my eyes, you come close. Whatever it is you’ve done would never be a good enough reason for a man to force himself on his wife or to up and decide he has the right to run off with their child.”

  No, it’s not, especially to a man like Lorenzo Ricci. The only thing my father is against is harming women and children. He’s worked years to take down as many of the cartels, gangs, and smaller branches of the mafia who traffic children and women in the US and Mexico down. I’ve overheard him telling Joseph how he and his good friend Roan Diamond who runs an Empire in New York, has beaten a few of his soldiers to a pulp when they’ve found out they abused their wives.

  Him being friends with Roan Diamond. The boss of The Diamond Empire is how I met Victoria. Her father, Aidan, works for Roan. If it weren’t for who they are, Joseph would have forbidden me to remain friends with her. He’s beaten me plenty for not having the upper hand when it came to Victoria. I to
ok it to save her from the vile things he said he’d do to her.

  Aidan happens to be one of the many people searching for my son. I’m so thankful and undeserving that no one I care about has turned their back on me for not speaking up when I should have. I’ll never stand tall again if something happens to any of the men out in the world digging through danger.

  “My past is ugly. There are things Joseph did; I don’t think anyone could pry out of me no matter how much torture they were to conflict. I chose to stay with him, not as much out of fear for me as for Luca. Now he’s taken him, and we are all suffering the consequences. My son and…” I pause, wanting to finish with my son and Lane especially. The words launch my heart into my throat, blocking off my ability to speak.

  My body jolts forward as if it had been sitting idle for years, and I bury my face in my hands. I shake my head, not quite having the courage to release the secret out of my mouth.

  The room spins, and a sour taste sits on my tongue. A jagged little pill, you know you have to spit out, but you wish with all you had you could swallow it down.

  “What are you not telling me, Sienna?” He’s becoming furious. I’ve not once in my life been afraid of my father. He’s feared by many, respected by more, to me he’s my father—the man I admire. The man whose bark has always been much worse than his bite when it comes to me. The man who taught me so much, and I need to remind myself of the woman he taught me to be.

  To have strength. I wouldn’t have survived the torture I went through, no matter how much I love my son, if it weren’t for that word sticking in my head with every punch Joseph delivered.

  How can I take brutal beatings to my body and not tell him what he deserves to hear?

  “What she’s afraid to say is Luca is my son, not Joseph’s. Sienna didn’t make the wrong choice. She made the only one she could to look after our son. I made the wrong choice years ago when she found out about the club. The blame is on me.”

  Inhaling a sharp breath, I look to my right at Lane, paused in the doorway, his jaw set tight. Eyes determined. His clothes are wrinkled. The man anchored down with so much remorse it’s crushing to witness. All I want to do is run and fold myself into the safety of his arms.