An Unfinished Life

by Wasowski, Mary

  Her honesty wrecked me. Did she know how I dreamed every night of ending the life of the monster that hurt her? To make him bleed just like he made her? To cause him pain and show no mercy like he did for her? How could I possibly walk away knowing he was still a threat? I had to protect her at all costs. But to look into her beautiful eyes was slaying me to my core. I had to tell her what she wanted to hear to ease her mind. She was trying in earnest to be strong and not cry. God! I couldn’t take it to see one more tear fall from my beautiful girl.

  I pulled her into my arms and held her until she was reassured. Kissing the top of her head and brushing away her hair from her eyes, I gave her what she needed.

  “I promise. Now, no more tears. No matter what happens, Nickel, you never have to worry about not seeing me again. I will always watch over you and will never let anyone hurt you again.”

  That was all the reassurance I was capable of giving, even if it was a half-truth. It wasn’t a lie yet, because I hadn’t decided what Michael’s fate would be.

  Max was calling me non-stop. I ignored every call. I packed up my things and checked out of the hotel, barely arriving on time to catch my flight to Chicago.

  After I was settled in on the plane, my mind drifted to Sara. I missed her so much and wanted her home with me. I would make it my mission to find her once I was home.

  I called Tommy to pick me up at the airport and gave him strict instructions not to alert anyone of my homecoming, especially Max. His heart was in the right place, but mine was not right now and I refused to be backed into a corner. He was thinking that my actions would compromise the family, but he was wrong. I would never do anything to risk exposure for anyone of them.

  “Hey, boss, welcome home.”

  Hearing him say “home” made me silently ache for Sara. It had been days and no word from her.

  Tommy extended his hand to me and grabbed my bag. I remained quiet while he drove me back to my bar. I had him drive around to the side where I wouldn’t be seen. Knowing Max, he probably had eyes on me. I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever and would deal with his baseless fears tomorrow.

  Climbing the stairs to my empty home was torture knowing Sara wouldn’t be waiting for me in our bed. My heart was breaking. My mind was tormented. No peace would come to me tonight or any night until Sara was home and Michael St. Clair was dead.

  Today was the day Michael St. Clair would pay for his sins. Justice would never truly be served until I silenced him, banished him straight to hell, where he could never hurt Nicolette again. All his time spent in prison, had he even learned redemption? His cell had been flipped and his hidden obsessions had been revealed. His intent was clear. He wanted Nicolette and would seek her out once he was free, but not if I had anything to say about it.

  I knew what line I was crossing and what I would lose if caught, but it was a risk worth taking. I would never second guess myself once all was in place to carry out what I should have done years ago. Against Max’s warnings, I cashed in all the chips that were owed to me for this favor. I had only one chance to make this happen, and today was the day.

  He was on laundry detail. The room was located on the lower floors of the prison, surrounded by loud sounds of the industrial machines. He was taken and bound to a chair with his mouth stuffed with a rag to silence his screams. Nestled out of sight in a dark corner of the room, I slowly crept in and approached him. His eyes were red from the cowardly tears that fell down his cheeks. He was moaning and begging for his life.

  I leaned in to his ear and whispered, “Do you remember me?”

  He shakily nodded his head. I took in several deep breaths and began my speech, “I could have ended your life that day in the hospital, but I didn’t. Every day, Michael, I think about that…I could have, but I didn’t. I watched you in the courtroom as you sat there, confidently believing that you would live out your sentence and be free one day. Did you think that, Michael?”

  He sat there with no emotion and just listened to me. I circled around him, and he didn’t move.

  “You made my girl bleed, you PIG. Do you remember what I said to you? Hmm…? Pigs get slaughtered! You preyed upon an innocent girl, infected her with your seed, and caused her undeniable pain. You robbed her…YOU BROKE HER! I can’t let you live one more day knowing that a free life awaits you outside of these walls, because it doesn’t.”

  I removed his gag and asked him one last question, “Do you have anything to say before death comes for you?”

  He looked directly into my eyes and said, “Do it! I can’t have her…I’m already in hell.”

  I plunged my blade into his heart with one strong thrust. I stared into his eyes and watched as his life left his pathetic body. He gasped as his eyes slowly closed. I watched as he bled out, and I let out the breath that I was holding. I swore I would never return to this life again. But after what happened to Nicolette, there was no way I could ever live with knowing that the animal that hurt her still had breath in his lungs.

  “Nicolette!” I called out, but no one was here.

  I was alone. I was in my bed in Chicago, not covered in blood in a California prison. I spent hour after hour believing that what I saw was real, but I realized that it wasn’t. It was a fantasy created by me since the day I found out my precious Nicolette had been raped. It was all I thought about, and it was what made Sara leave me.

  I needed her to come back to me. She was the only one that could save me from myself. I pushed up against the headboard and banged my head in frustration. What are you doing?—the four words that I could not find the answer to. Could I let him go? Trust that he wouldn’t go after my girl again? She was protected out in California, unbeknownst to her, or anyone in Nicolette’s circle. Not even my brother knew the lengths I had gone through to watch over her.

  Had I known sooner about the photographer, he would have been dealt with, but then again, if we hadn’t discovered him, then we wouldn’t have known about Michael’s proof of his stalking. It was so fucked up, I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it. The fact that this sick motherfucker was still obsessed with my daughter made me see red. Clearly, prison had taught him nothing, leaving me with some tough choices to make.

  I scrubbed my hands down my three-day beard. I was drained to the point of exhaustion. I was alone with just my nightmares to keep me company. No one knew I was home except for Tommy, best to leave it that way for now. I turned over and forced my eyes to close and begged for sleep to takeover.

  Eight hours later, my grumbling stomach forced me to wake up. I lost track to when I ate last. Was it at the marina with Nickel? My legs were wobbly as I finally managed to get up and out of bed. My head didn’t feel any better. Looking out from my window, it was dark again, proof that I missed another day while losing myself to my pain and loss.

  After a shower, I took my private path down to my office. No one could gain access to me upstairs in my home nor my office without me knowing it. It was a safeguard I had put in place when I designed this place. My family was my first priority to protect, and although I wasn’t present on the streets, I still had enemies from my years spent there. My reputation spoke for itself, which stopped would-be assholes for even contemplating striking against me, but there was always a first time for someone believing they could.

  I pulled out my bottle of Hirsch and poured myself a drink. Not the greatest decision I could make, knowing I hadn’t eaten in a while. I called Tommy on the private line upstairs in the bar, and he answered immediately. I asked him to bring me some food, although I wasn’t sure if I could even eat it. The alcohol numbed my pain, and it made it easier to forget the realities of my life.

  After listening to one too many voicemails from Max, I deleted the rest. I scrolled down the numbers to see if Sara had called, but she didn’t. The picture of Sara that graced my desk was staring back at me. This one was taken on the day she was declared cancer-free.

  I could have taken Sara anywhere in the world to celebrate, but sh
e was simple and had chosen a picnic in the park. We spread out our blanket and took in the gorgeous sunny day in Lincoln Park where the Chicago skyline was our view. The warmth from the sun felt like heaven on my face.

  It had been a long time that I allowed myself to feel any joy since her diagnosis, but today was different. She never gave up on her faith and knew that she would be okay. The doctors had caught it early enough, but I never allowed myself to believe in a positive outcome. Anytime you hear the word cancer, it sounds like a death sentence, no matter how many ways you spin it.

  Sara made me believe that we would make it, and once again she was right. She was leaning back on her elbows, basking in the sun. Her floppy hat was moving with the wind, and she never looked more beautiful. I took a couple of pictures of her before she covered her face with her hat. She always blushed and had that natural rosiness to her cheeks. I never wanted her to hide, especially around me. She was my angel, and I would never want anyone else.

  “Please come back to me baby, please.”

  The knock at my door was my saving grace.

  “Come in,” I called out as I placed her picture back in its rightful place. “Oh, fuck! Not today, Max.”

  “I’m sorry, boss. He followed me down here,” Tommy said regretfully. I waved him off to go back to the bar while I watched Max enter and place down my food tray.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” he shouted as he slammed the door behind Tommy.

  “Excuse me? Be careful, Max. You don’t want to go there with me.”

  “Yeah, I do my friend. I’m already there and have been since you left for California. You’ve been gone for days and with no word to me. Get it together, Jackie, and pull yourself out of this hole that you are drowning in.”

  “I’m trying, Max.”

  “Well, try harder, because you are doing a piss poor job at convincing me that you are okay. You can’t be going off the grid like this, Jack! Not one person other than your boy upstairs knew where you were. How the hell did you get back here without me seeing you?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m here now, so calm the fuck down and let me eat in peace.”

  “Fine! I’ll wait. You look like shit by the way.”

  I said nothing in return and silently ate my steak. I took my time and savored every bite. Once I was done, I opened the Chianti that Tommy had chosen to accompany my meal. It was my favorite wine that I always enjoyed sharing with Sara, but I wasn’t going there at the moment, not when I had Max staring me down. I swear this guy can pass for a statue. His eyes weren’t even moving.

  “Okay, Max, say your peace and then get the hell out.”

  “I won’t be dismissed again, Jack, so maybe you should watch your tone. When did you get back into town?” he asked with a calmer but stern tone.

  “A couple of nights ago. Why do you care?”

  “Because I care about you, Jack, and I can’t protect you if I don’t know where the hell you are.”

  “Protect me from what? There is nothing I can’t handle, Max. I’ve traveled down the darkest paths of hell and have come out the other side. I can handle things on my own, so drop it.”

  “No, you can’t, Jack! And you haven’t been able to in a long time. You proved that with the photographer you let go. Your judgment is clouded. You are not thinking clearly and are putting yourself in an unsafe position, so I took care of it.”

  I grabbed hold of my desk, nearly white knuckling it and leaned toward Max.

  “What did you take care of?”

  “Something that should have been done years ago. Your world is righted again, my friend, and now you will sleep easier knowing that justice has finally been served.”

  “No! Please tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”

  “Not me personally, but it is done, Jack. He was a threat and needed to be silenced once and for all. Here, take it. The proof is all there in black and white.”

  I took the folder that Max handed to me and crashed back down into my chair. Prison statuses on Michael St. Clair. Although he was denied parole requests at the time of his sentencing, his father and new lawyer had that overturned. A scheduled meeting was to take place next month. I flipped through more papers, and that’s when my eyes focused on two sheets of phone transcripts, prison calls to his father all detailing his manic delusions about Nicolette. The first one read:

  “I’ll be free soon, father, and then I will go to her.”

  “Michael, please, you must stop this now. You never had a future with Nicolette, and you never will. For years I have begged you to stop this madness, but yet you continue to darken your thoughts, which will only lead to more heartache for you.”

  “You’re wrong father. I’ve had time to reflect these last years, and it doesn’t matter what she said to me that day in the courtroom. I forgive her. We will begin again far away from Simon, her family, and all who have stood in our way from being together. She will have my child again inside of her body, and then I will know that she will never leave me again.”

  “Michael, I can’t help you anymore. I’ve done all I can and yet you still won’t listen to me. I’m finished here, and you are on your own, my son.”

  There were several more pages with conversations like this one with his father, and then all communication with his father dropped off. The last transcription I read was between Michael, and his lawyer:

  “I will join you at your hearing, but your father will not be in attendance. If, by the grace of God, you are released, then you will be remanded to a private facility in Europe where your father has made arrangements for you to get well. Is this clear to you?”

  “Crystal, but I thought I was cut off? Now the old man wants to help me? He just can’t decide when it’s convenient for him to be a father to me and when it’s not. I am a grown man, and I don’t need his help. I will be fine on my own.”

  “And I guess that goes without saying that you will also be fine without his money? Because it’s his financial support that pays my retainer, Michael, and without your father’s support and mine, then you don’t have a chance in hell at making it on the outside if you are released.”

  “Wrong again. I will survive, because I will have Nicolette back where she belongs…with me! Once I have her, you will never have to worry about me again, and you can tell that to my father.”

  That was the last of the conversation transcripts. I was right. I had been all along, and not one person believed me. He never changed or even tried to reform into a better man. He spent all this time plotting his way back to my girl, and I had the proof sitting here in my hands.

  Max was silently looking at me, waiting for a reaction. I was numb again, and it wasn’t from alcohol. The pounding from my heart was making my chest hurt. He didn’t say the words, but at that moment looking at Max, I knew…Michael St. Clair was dead.

  “Max, I…”

  “It’s done, Jack. Let’s leave sleeping dogs where they lie.”

  “NO!” I screamed.

  I knocked over my desk, sending everything on it, including Sara’s picture, to smash on the floor. Max toppled over in shock as I lunged for him.

  “You sonofabitch! You took my choice away from me, and you can tell me that it’s over? It’s just beginning, Max. How the hell could you betray me like this? You knew above anyone else how much I have been tortured over him, and I was prevaricating the inevitable. He was never to be touched by anyone but me! And you took that away from me! How could you, Max?”

  My hands were fisted on his collar as he tried to break free, but he was no match against me. I released him with a shove to the wall. He slumped down to catch his breath.

  “Jackie, please understand what position you placed the family in. We knew we had to have your back and still protect not just you, but the family. If something were to happen to you, like getting caught murdering someone in prison, then the legacies of Johnny Carlucci would have never let any one of us live. He loved you like a son, and this is
why you are feared to this day on the streets—not just because of who you are, but because of what you meant to him. Even in death, he is still looking out for you.”

  “Fuck that, Max! I didn’t ask him to. And you don’t know anything about my relationship with Johnny, so don’t even try. What I did for him has cost me in more ways than you can ever imagine. My wounds are still bleeding and will never heal. The one act I could have control over, you took away from me. Michael St. Clair was mine to deal with, not yours.”

  “Then you should have taken him out when you had the chance, but you let your brother, your wife, and the love you have for your daughter manipulate you, control you, and change you. We still respected you, Jack, but hell if we understood you! This is over. A promise has been fulfilled, and now it’s up to you how you move forward. But whatever you do, stay the hell out of California. You need to stay here. Just be seen, and we will take care of the rest.”

  I had no words left to say to Max. I turned away and leaned against the wall with my palms flat to the surface. He was behind me and stuffed a piece of paper in my pocket. And then the door closed. I took the paper and read the words that were written on them:

  Another thing he had done for me. Max located Sara, and all I had to do was bring her home. My stomach flipped, and I grabbed the wastebasket, where I vomited everything that was in my stomach, booze and all, until I had nothing left.

  Some time had passed and another knock was at my door. Tommy came in and told me the bar was now closed. He easily picked up my desk and began picking everything up from the floor. After removing the jagged pieces of glass from the frame, he handed me my picture of Sara and helped me up.