Finding Us

by S. K. Hartley

  His statement had me nearly backing out of my seat in utter surprise.

  Was he fucking deluded?

  “Jace, if this is one of your jokes, you better cut the crap. I’m going nowhere near him of my own accord. If he wants me, he can damn well come and get me.”

  “You think he wouldn’t do that?” he asked, a ghost of a smirk gracing his lips. “Willow, he will come for you, why not save him the trouble and seek him out? You have an informant, they can tell you where he is.”

  For a moment I contemplated punching him in the dick for his ridiculous idea. Why the hell would I go to the man who had me quaking in fear after all these years? He was deluded if he thought for one moment I was going to seek him out.

  “Six years on and you still have the worst people skills known to man,” I stated flatly, not an ounce of humor in my voice. “Get a fucking clue, Jace. I’m not going anywhere near him if I don’t have to.”

  Jace sighed hard, it was overdramatic and for a minute, I could feel a small chuckle worming its way up my throat, but I quickly pushed it back down.

  “Do you ever truly think about who you are, Willow? About what it would be like had we not left?”

  I sighed. Of course I thought about who I was, who I could have been before we left, but that was six years ago; I’m no longer the same person.

  “It would have been hell, and you damn well know it,” I said, pointing at him.

  “Forget that.” He paused, seemingly searching my face for something… anything. “You would’ve been respected, you would’ve been the girl I grew up with who didn’t take shit from no one. Since we left you turned into this shell of yourself, and to be honest, it’s fucking depressing. I know the person you could be, and no matter how much I deny it, I know I should fear you but it doesn’t mean I will.”

  “It’s fucking depressing? You think?! Fuck me, Jace. I’m still waking up six years later with flashbacks. How do you not have them? You saw all the shit I saw, and yet here you are, telling me that because I’m not the girl I once was, that it’s fuckin depressing.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it! Don’t twist my words, Willow. All I’m saying is you were someone to be reckoned with… go and show him exactly why people respected you back then.”

  I let his words sink in for a moment. He was right, I was once respected for who I was. But was I willing to go to the one person who made me feel so fucking small? If I went to him, was I going to seal my fate and that of everyone around me?

  “It could be a trap,” I muttered, glancing down at my lap.

  “If it is, I’ll be right there to pull you out of it,” he stated.

  His comment was enough to move my gaze back to his, locking onto the eyes that had been holding my attention for more than a decade.

  “You can’t,” I whispered. “It’s dangerous and adding you to the mix would be downright stupid.”

  “When have I ever deviated from danger… or stupidity, for that matter?”

  I paused. Why the hell were we even having this conversation? Did he honestly think I would go to him, never mind adding Jace into this fucked up mess?

  “I won’t do it.”

  “If you don’t do it, Willow, he’ll just think you’re weak. He will have the upper hand, and he’ll know just how much you fear him,” Jace said, standing from his chair, the loud scraping noise against the floor making me flinch. “You need to step out of the mind of Low, and remember who you really are, Willow.”

  “I don’t know who I am anymore,” I muttered, the weakness in my voice apparent even to myself.

  Jace stepped around the table, kneeling beside my chair and grabbed at my chin with his thumb and finger. He turned my face to his, our gazes locking and a smile gracing his lips.

  “You’re the girl I grew up with. You’re the girl I admired for years. You’re the woman who I knew you would turn into.” He paused, his mouth turning into a flat line upon his face. “You’re also Willow Knoxx, and no one from your past is ever going to let you forget that.”

  I pondered for a moment, trying to work out Jace’s angle; there was always an angle when it came to Jace. Always.

  “You’re also a pain in my ass, you always have been.” He chuckled as he straightened from his position beside me.

  Something at the back of my mind told me he wasn’t telling me something, that he was holding something back. In my experience, that was fucking dangerous.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “You have to go to him.” He sighed. “Or I will.”

  With that, he left the coffee shop, leaving me with a god damn ultimatum and a headache from hell.

  I could feel my skin on my forearms becoming itchy, the need to scratch becoming unbearable as I sat stunned in my chair. I knew all too well what would happen to Jace if he was true to his word. Jace was always true to his word, no matter the consequences.

  I slowly rubbed my temples with my fingers, trying to elevate the headache that just wouldn’t let up. My head pounded hard as I considered my options… but they all stopped at the same conclusion and that was what frightened me the most.

  “Motherfucking shit,” I hissed as I pounded my fist against the table.

  Heads turned and stared as I tried to get my shit together, but every time I thought I had arrived at a new outcome, reality set in and I realized this was so much more than I could handle on my own.

  “Fucking asshat,” I grumbled as I pulled on my leather jacket.

  Throwing down a twenty, I made my way out of the coffee shop, stopping on the sidewalk briefly to send a text message.

  Fuck protocol.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Last Judgment was referred to as the Day of Reckoning, a time when the effects of one’s past mistakes or misdeeds catch up with one. That thought repeatedly jumped to the forefront of my mind every second step I took towards my desired destination. Although, my destination wasn’t truly desired, it was more of a necessity. I promised myself years ago the only communication between myself and my informant would be via text message. This was my Day of Reckoning.

  My legs burned with every long stride I took down the sidewalk. I had been walking for three hours straight but I wasn’t about to burn out any time soon. My cell had been blowing up with phone calls from Tate, clearly wondering where the hell I had gone to, considering my class with Dr. Voxen finished an hour ago.

  I was doing this to protect him.

  “Fine job you’ve been doing,” I mumbled out loud to myself.

  My chest was tight with the adrenaline that pumped through my veins, pushing to heights I hadn’t been to in over six years. But now I felt it. I felt the need to push through the fog that had attached itself to my retinas over an hour ago. I was two towns away from the coffee shop, five from campus. I needed to be as far away as possible so I could clear my head.

  I slowed my assault on my body, falling into a leisurely walk. The sun beat down on my exposed skin on my chest, warming me from the outside. Couples walked hand in hand down the sidewalk through the small town I had found myself in. What I would give just to do that with Tate, to be normal. Small children laughed as they ran past me, chasing each other and enjoying the spring sun.

  The chiming of my cell quickly pulled me out of my desire to be normal. Jace’s name flashed across my screen as I rolled my eyes in defiance. I really didn’t want to deal with him again today. Sliding my finger across the screen, I rejected the call without a glance.

  Just as I went to place my cell back into my pocket, it chimed again. Groaning, I noticed Jace was calling me again. Persistent ass. Rejecting the call, I turned my cell on to silent mode, hoping he would eventually get the hint.

  The minute the weight of my cell hit the inside pocket of my leather jacket, my world suddenly turned askew.

  My heart accelerated as a large hand muffled my scream begging to be released, the smell of stale cigarettes on the hand choking me. I kicked out my legs an
d arms, hoping to make contact with someone, but my attempts where useless.

  “Stop struggling, little Willow. I will cut you,” the gravelly voice sneered into my ear.

  I recognized the voice. It was a voice that would appear in my nightmares from time to time. It was a voice I wasn’t ready to face, a voice from my past I was hoping to be rid of.

  Tears threatened my eyes as his name rolled over in my mind, the connection between us hard to hide.

  Dominic Knoxx.

  His name made my stomach clench with fear, the last name we shared turning my tongue thick and immobile in my mouth. We’re family, half siblings to be exact, and I hadn’t seen him in close to eight years. I feared him then, and I would be fucking insane if I didn’t fear him now.

  I stopped struggling against his hold on me, my legs becoming heavy and limp as he dragged me down a side alley. I tried to take in the area, trying to spot something that would give me some sort of clue as to where he was taking me. But I saw nothing other than piles of trash and stray cats. I couldn’t even spot something I could use as a weapon. I whimpered in defeat.

  “Shush, little Willow. I don’t plan on hurting you… yet.” He laughed huskily into my ear as we came to a stop just outside a small building.

  My body was quickly maneuvered, my front now facing the ugly building, my hands wrapped behind my back with my brother’s hands encasing them. If I screamed, I would be killed, and I had no doubt no one would hear me if I did. If I tried to fight back, I would be killed, and I wasn’t stupid enough to even try it. Instead, I kept my mouth shut and my body relaxed.

  I was quickly marched into the building, the steel door slamming hard behind us as we made our way over a large space. It looked like a small warehouse building, crates were scattered about the floor space, some opened, some sealed. My eyes glanced over one of the crates, hoping it wasn’t what I was imagining. The minute my eyes settled on the contents I almost balked in shock. Almost. Inside the crates sat row upon row of weapons, ranging from your usual hand guns to AK-47s. What the fuck?

  A figure before me broke my contact with the weapons. I instantly recognized him from the large spider tattoo that sat proudly on the side of his shaved head. It was my god damn informant, my only connection to my past. The person who had been sending me text messages for the last six years. Spyder Monroe. The most notorious liar. My lies didn’t have shit on him. They named him Spyder because he was known to have his fingers in lots of pies and he was one of the best internal spies there was. Now he was wearing his name with pride… tattooed onto his head. Jesus.

  “Spyder.” I grunted as a smirk played at his lips. “You son-of-a-bitch!”

  The smirk quickly faded and my eyes nearly bulged out of my head as I watched the Glock in his right hand rear back. The blow came hard. I saw stars and black spots as the pain splintered through my right cheek bone, no doubt fractured from the butt of the gun.

  “Motherfucker,” I hissed, the tang of copper swirling around my mouth.

  “Learn your fucking place” were the only four words Spyder growled at me before turning around and walking towards another steel door.

  Dominic pushed me hard, my knees buckling as I was thrown forward, the hard concrete against my palms and knees breaking my fall.

  “Get up!” Dominic grunted, gripping me by my jacket and hauling me through the steel door.

  I decided right there I would keep my mouth shut. I knew they took pleasure from my pain, I wasn’t going to give it to them. Just like all those years ago.

  I stumbled into the dark room, only the silhouettes of roughly nine other people were visible. I squinted hard, trying to make out who the hell I was dealing with. Anything was possible, I was dealing with my brother and who I’d thought was my informant.

  “She know where she is?” a voice grunted from somewhere in the room.

  I still couldn’t make out which direction I was supposed to be looking, everything was so dark I could barely see my hands in front of my own face.

  “She wouldn’t be stupid enough to tell anyone if she did.” Dominic laughed sadistically.

  I silently rolled my eyes to myself, wondering if they knew who the hell I was. Did they think I was just some girl off the street that my brother had picked up? Surely Spyder and my brother would have told them?

  “Good.”

  Suddenly the room was illuminated in light. My hands quickly flew up to my eyes, shielding them from the painful brightness that consumed the room.

  “Holy fuck,” a strangled whisper broke the room as I tried to see through the light.

  “What the fuck have you done, Dominic?” another voice said.

  My vision finally cleared and I moved my hand, finally able to see ten large men standing in a semi-circle in the small room. My eyes darted around my surroundings; the only furniture visible was a small dark desk coupled with a clearly worn out office chair. There were no windows and only the single door we had just entered through.

  I tried to work out the eyes of the faces that stared back at me, wondering if I recognized any of them. I saw two sets of bright blue eyes that were fixed on mine and I recognized them instantly: the Gomez twins. They booth stood at around six feet tall, their frames matched in muscle and build. The last time I had seen them we had been in the Manor, it wasn’t pleasant and I knew exactly the kind of damage they could do.

  “She is the key to getting this locked down,” my brother said, breaking the silence.

  “You brought your fucking half-sister to help us with this? Are you fucking deluded? She could blow the whistle on this whole operation, you dumb fuck!” a man I didn’t recognize yelled.

  “You have no fucking idea who she is do you, Nicolai?” My brother laughed.

  Nicolai. The name registered in my mind but I couldn’t put together the pieces of the puzzle that were confusing the shit out of me.

  “No. And by the look on your sister’s face, neither does she.” Nicolai leered as he took a step towards me. “Who the fuck are you, little girl?”

  Little girl? Little girl? Rage boiled deep in my gut as the fractures in the walls I had built cracked and burst open with an all-mighty roar. I was done playing games. Without warning my mask shattered into millions of pieces before my eyes.

  Out came Willow Knoxx.

  Ex-mafia.

  “I suggest you watch your fucking mouth, Nicolai. You have no idea who I am,” I said, leaning into him. “And that, is very fucking stupid.”

  “Do you know who I am?” Nicolai roared at my outburst, clearly surprised.

  I briefly closed my eyes as I tried to work out who the hell I was dealing with. His name was familiar, and without warning my mind tumbled back to six years before. Nicolai du Lude.

  “Nicolai, of course I know who you are. Being the daughter and heir to one of the biggest mob bosses within the US kinda puts me in a particular position, you know?” I smiled sweetly.

  Just saying it out loud broke my heart. I hadn’t admitted to myself, never mind anyone else, who I was in such a long time. My mother had tried to get me to talk about it, to open up about our time with my father, but I wasn’t going to let him taint our new life. Now I was standing before my past: tainted, exposed, released. Low Parker had disappeared so easily it scared me and made me want to vomit at the same time.

  “Who are you?” he whispered as he played with a strand of my blonde hair.

  Thrusting out my hand, I laughed as he looked at me like I had just lost my damn mind. “Willow Knoxx, nice to finally meet you, Nicolai.” I winked. “Jaxson Knoxx is my father,” I added, just for clarification, even though his name made my stomach turn.

  The room erupted in gasps and chorus of ‘holy shit’ as Nicolai just stared at my hand in front of him. “You know, where I’m from, if a mob boss’s daughter offers her hand, you damn well take it,” I growled.

  “Jesus, Dominic. What the fuck are you doing?” Nicolai said, rolling his eyes.

  My hand was st
ill between us, hanging there like it didn’t matter. I wasn’t happy.

  “Hey. Hello?” I said, using the same hand to wave in front of Nicolai’s face. “Are we going to stand here all day and pussy foot around the fact I have a vagina? I kinda have somewhere to be.”

  My hand was suddenly gripped tightly in Nicolai’s, squeezing hard as he leaned into my personal space.

  “Don’t push it,” he growled.

  “If you want to walk out of here with your dick still attached to that worthless body of yours, I suggest you remember who the fuck I am and let go of me. Now.”

  “She’s feisty. I like it.” Nicolai smirked over my shoulder, his hand releasing mine slowly.

  “That ain’t even the half of it. Now, can we move past this shit and talk about the plan?” my brother said, gripping my left shoulder, pulling me back a step.

  My brows furrowed. I was interested to see what the fuck they had to say. What plan had they got up their sleeves, and what the hell it had to do with me and my brother.

  “You know what I want, Nicolai. I need to be at the head of that table, blood will spill but I want his blood smeared across that fucking throne.”

  Holy shit. The realization of what they’re talking about suddenly hit me full force. Dominic was my half-brother. Our mother had an affair a few years into her marriage and thus produced my father’s pride and joy. A first-born son. He was destined to take over the family business, to become my father’s second in command when he became of age at twenty-one.

  Three years later, my mother bore another child. Me. This time I was definitely my father’s, everything about me was him. From my crystal blue eyes to my platinum blonde hair. I was a Knoxx, there was no doubt about it.

  Some years later, a gentleman by the name of Luca pulled up to the Manor in a Rolls Royce, claiming Dominic to be his son. By that time, my father had put my brother into training, showing him the ropes of the business he was destined to take over. Three weeks later a DNA test confirmed Dominic to be illegitimate, and it was too late for his real father. Jaxson Knoxx shot him dead in his flashy Rolls Royce, his driver stepping on the gas to take back the message the Knoxx family weren’t to be fucked with.