Finding Us

by S. K. Hartley

  The minute my father read the DNA results, he became quiet, closed off, unreadable. He was a sadistic man before, but after that, he was pure evil. My half-brother was thrown out of the house, his name never to be used to gain power. If he did, he would be shot on the spot.

  My father soon turned his attention to me, the pure blood, his only heir. The training Dominic was given over the years was crammed into me in a few short months. My protests would go unanswered as my father thrusted a Glock into my hands, and by the tender age of sixteen, I could shoot a moving target without blinking.

  My mother mourned the loss of her son, of her first born. There was nothing she could do; if she went to him, my father would shoot her for being unfaithful, again. My mother wasn’t without punishment, the nights were long and painful as I listened to her cry herself to sleep. The image of the scar on her foot jumped to the front of my mind. My father had waited years, waiting for me to turn sixteen to give my mother her ‘just deserts.’

  One night, three days after my sixteenth birthday, I was pulled from a restless slumber. My father gripped me by my nightdress as he ushered me across the long hallway to my mother’s room. They had been sleeping separately ever since my father had learned of her betrayal; his nights were usually spent with paid women while my mother cried herself to sleep in the next bedroom.

  My mother slept soundly within her bed as my father tiptoed us further into the room, stopping at the foot of her bed before thrusting that same Glock he had been training me with into my hands. I looked at my father to try and find some understanding in his eyes, but there was nothing there. There never was, just darkness clouding the purest of blue eyes.

  “I don’t understand,” I whispered to my father as he made his way around to my mother’s bedside.

  “You will learn, little Willow. That breaking the code, being unfaithful, and tarnishing the family name comes with consequences.” He smiled before gripping my mother by the hair.

  Her screams still haunt me to this day as he forced her down on her knees before him, her sobs breaking through the stillness of the night. My father waved me over and I slowly stepped towards his side, wondering what the hell he wanted me to see.

  “Point the gun at her,” my father stated as he held with a tight grasp in my mother’s brunette hair.

  I stuttered for what felt like minutes until my father grabbed at the gun, pulling me forward with it. The Glock that sat heavy in my hands was pointed to the woman who had created me, who had soothed me after I would come home spent from a day of training for something I didn’t want.

  “Remind her why she’s on her knees, Little Willow,” he whispered into my ear.

  I gulped down hard as I tried to clear the large lump in my throat. I had to do this; if I didn’t, he wouldn’t just shoot me, he would also shoot her.

  “You’re in this position because you broke the family code. You lied, cheated, and snuck around, all for your own personal gain. Personal gain isn’t tolerated, the only gain you should be searching for is the gain for this family. You created a… a bastard within the family. He can never be heir.”

  I closed my eyes as I tried to push the painful memory back into the little box in my mind. I didn’t want to think about that night, I didn’t want to deal with the poison of my past.

  “I need collateral, Dominic. What am I going to get in return for pulling your father from the head of the table? This could cause a war I don’t think you’re ready for,” Nicolai said, his gaze landing on me. “And you’re not even next in line. She is.”

  Nicolai de Lude was smart. Surprising, considering his father was a vile leech that would take any job that would come his way, including sex trafficking. The de Lude’s were hitmen, the ones you went to when something or someone needed to be dealt with. I was under no illusion Nicolai would kill my father; he was just like his, vile.

  “She doesn’t want to be at the table, she never has. She can get out if I make them vote, and you’ll all be at my table,” Dominic said, his voice sure.

  “How are you going to get rid of the originals who sit at that table, Dominic? Do you want me to take those out too? You’re putting a lot of blood on my hands without so much as a guarantee.”

  I felt as though I couldn’t breathe, like a lead weight was sitting on my chest. My brother was planning to kill off my father and the original members of the mob family, just so he could take a seat at the head of the table. Didn’t he realize this could cause an outright war? That killing members of your own Family means you’ve committed something far worse than breaking the code of silence, you’ve committed mutiny. Payable with blood.

  “Dominic, have you lost your god damn mind?” I grunted out, the weight on my chest becoming heavier.

  He laughed as he turned to me, his dark brown eyes staring back at me. “I lost what was left of my mind when your snake of a father kicked me out of the fucking house and had me fend for myself. He deserves this, and you’re going to help us.”

  “I’m not putting blood on my hands for you, Dominic. I won’t do it for anyone.”

  “You will do as you’re damn well told, Little Willow. Nicolai is going to get rid of your father, make it look like a mob hit and you’re going to take the seat at the top of that table. Then you will get Nicolai to sit at the table alongside you, you will vote him in. Nicolai will start killing from the inside, making sure the only two originals left are no longer able to sit their old asses at that god damn table. You’ll sway the vote, Little Willow. You’ll then vote me in, and I’ll take over the chair you clearly don’t want.”

  “Are you fucking deluded?” I screamed, my voice echoing around the room. “If any of the other families find out about this, you’ll be killed, Dominic. You’re not playing around with school kids here, you’re talking about killing off one of the most sadistic men in the mob world and could involve mob families from across the country.”

  “I know what I’m doing. You want out of that seat? Then I’m going to take it and ensure those ridiculous business deals your father has made gives us more revenue and we can branch out.”

  “By those ridiculous business deals, I presume you’re referring to the Irish weapons deal that has been in place for nearly a decade?”

  “I can get bigger and better weapons for the Irish, I can supply every two weeks rather than every four. Not to mention that I can supply larger weapons.”

  “I won’t do a damn thing to help you do this,” I said, squaring my eyes at my brother and Nicolai.

  Nicolai laughed sarcastically, his Adam’s apple bobbing with every breath he took. He looked towards Spyder, my now ex-informant, who took a step towards me.

  “Little Willow, you don’t think your father was the only one watching you all these years?” Spyder smirked. “I know exactly what you have now: college, friends… a boyfriend? Just think how quickly we could take those away.”

  A gasp escaped my lips at his threat; he had been watching me for six years. We had come to an agreement I would never take the chair at the top of the table the day I got out, and over the years he had sent me updates via text message on my father’s movements. Now, he was coming for me, and Spyder had gone back on our agreement.

  “You wouldn’t,” I said, almost instantly.

  “Actually, Spyder probably wouldn’t. Even though he is on this side of the fence, he still wouldn’t betray you like that. But I have no fucking problem doing it,” Nicolai chimed in.

  My head spun as I tried to come up with a way of stopping this, of trying to grasp everything I was hearing. But I came up with the same conclusion over and over again. If I wanted to protect those I loved, I had to sit at the damn table.

  “From the blank stare on your face, I’ll take that as a ‘Yes, Nicolai, I’ll do it.’” He smiled.

  I felt the heat quickly drain from my face as I stared at the men in the room, not one of them giving anything away. What choice did I have? If I didn’t do what they wanted, they would destroy an
yone who stood in their way. I wasn’t about to let anyone get close to the people I loved.

  I sighed before nodding sharply.

  Welcome to World War III.

  “You’ll go back to your pathetic life until you’re called upon.” Nicolai smirked, pointing to the steel door behind me. “If you run, I will find you.”

  Dominic stared at Nicolai, nodding, which I presumed was aimed towards me. I had been dismissed. No goodbye, no fuck-you-very-much. Nothing. Just the threat on the lives around me if I didn’t do as I was told.

  “Oh, and Ms. Knoxx?” Nicolai chuckled, flicking his gaze to mine. “I will kill you.”

  Gulping hard, I slowly backed out of the door, ensuring I never once turned my back on the room of large men. I had no idea if they would shoot me on the way out, but I wouldn’t take the risk. My hand fumbled behind my back as I tried to open the heavy steel door. Closing my eyes briefly, I heard the large creak of the door and as soon as the gap was big enough… I ran.

  I ran so hard my legs burned with so much intensity I thought I might pass out. The three hour walk I had already pushed my body through before being grabbed by my half-brother and his minions splintered through my bones.

  I needed distance from my experience with my own past. Running fast, I made it six blocks before nearly passing out from lack of oxygen. With my hands on my thighs, I bent over as I tried to catch my breath, the air around me feeling thick as I gulped in air like it was water.

  It took several minutes for my body to register I was no longer running, the burn from my muscles almost having me cry out in pain as I stood upright. I assessed my surroundings, I was in a small town with quaint little stores. One of the stores was painted a yellow color, the light from the mid-day spring sun reflecting against the brightly colored building. Spotting a coffee shop, I made my way towards it. Stepping inside, I quietly took a table in the back, my hands shaking as I rubbed the aching muscles of my thighs.

  “What can I get you?” a waitress said from beside me.

  “Coffee. Black,” I muttered, never glancing in her direction.

  She must have taken the hint as she moved from my table, coming back a couple of minutes later with a steaming cup of coffee.

  “Excuse me,” I said, my gaze locking with the waitress. “What town is t…this?”

  Shit. I was a stuttering mess.

  “This is Charlottesville, my love.” She smiled warmly.

  I returned her smile and turned back to my coffee.

  I pulled my phone out of my leather jacket, punching in one of two numbers I knew by heart.

  “This is becoming a habit, Willow,” Jace’s gravelly voice rang into my ear.

  “I… I…” I stuttered, my nerves finally catching up with me as I tried to spit out what I wanted to say, but nothing came out.

  “Tell me where you are, babe.”

  I could hear rustling in the background, followed by large banging footsteps.

  “I… I don’t know,” I whimpered, my hand moving to the center of my chest as I tried to stop the fast-rising panic taking over my body.

  “Describe what you see, babe. Tell me what you can see from where you are,” he said softly, the roar of an engine creeping through the phone.

  “Small stores. Small town. Bright yellow store on the left.” I paused, pulling myself together. “Charlottesville.”

  “I’m coming for you.”

  That was all he said before the line went dead and I was left alone, surrounded by people.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Check the time. Sip my coffee. Check the time. Sip my coffee.

  I seemed to have turned two normal, everyday things into a ritual as I waited for Jace to come for me, the routine making me feel safe, calm. Or calmer. My left index finger ran along the lip of my cup as I noticed the steam that was once floating freely had completely disappeared; my coffee was cold and I hadn’t even noticed.

  “Babe!” Jace’s voice rang out as I spotted him crouched beside my seat on the floor, his hand on my forearm. “Tell me what happened.”

  “Dominic,” I whispered, the sound of my own brother’s name was like a nail running down a chalkboard in my head.

  “Motherfucker.” Jace grunted. “What did he want?”

  “I… Jesus, Jace. I…” I sighed, forcing myself to get the words out. “I have to take the chair.”

  “You ain’t got to do shit, Willow!” he growled.

  Standing, he took the seat opposite me, just like every meeting we’ve had. It was a sign of respect. I didn’t want respect. I wanted to bolt and run.

  “No, Jace. I have to take the chair.” I paused, looking down into the murky depths of my half-empty coffee cup. “If I don’t, they’ll hurt them.”

  I closed my eyes as the words spilled out of my mouth, trying to erase the picture of my half-brother’s venomous face from my mind.

  “How the hell did he find you?” Jace asked, his eyes searching every inch of my face for some sort of clue but, as always, my face was blank, never giving anything away.

  “My informant.” I cringed, memories of Spyder’s smirk as he took sheer delight in my pain flashed right before my eyes. “Spyder Monroe.”

  Jace’s hand moved to my right cheekbone, rubbing gently with the pad of his thumb. “That the fucker who did this to your jaw?” he asked.

  My gaze quickly locked with his. In truth, I had forgotten about the pain from when the butt of Spyder’s Glock thundered against my jaw. But the subtle pressure of Jace’s thumb against the throb of my skin stung like a bitch, reminding me just how real all that back there really was.

  I nodded sharply as my head deviated to the left. I closed my eyes. I could feel the hesitation in Jace’s hand as it left my skin. I didn’t have to look at him to know he was pissed, raging, and just waiting for the right time to release.

  “I have to take the chair, Jace,” I whispered, my eyes still closed.

  I waited for Jace’s protest, but nothing came. Seconds passed before I opened my eyes again, and when I did, my heart broke.

  “I know,” Jace whispered on a gravelly breath. “And I’ve got to take mine.”

  His admission stung. We had left that life, tried to start a fresh once we finally thought we were free. But there’s no such thing as a retired mob member, and there’s certainly no such thing as an heir denying something they were born into. The mob wasn’t just a way of life, it was a family. Blood in, blood out – except, there’s never really an out. The mob looked after their own. If you’re too old, too sick, you’re looked after, placed into a part of the Manor and only called upon if necessary.

  “What happens from here?” I asked.

  “They’ll summon me the second you step foot back in that manor. The minute you take the chair, I have to take my own. That’s the way it is. Fresh blood on one family throne means fresh blood for another.

  “You need to listen to me, Willow. If my family or yours knew about… about our new life, we’d both be punished. Do you understand?”

  I nodded my head, tears forming behind my eyes as I took in everything he was telling me.

  “I helped you get out, we helped each other. We broke loyalty, we broke the code.”

  “I know. I just wish this would just go away, I don’t think I’m strong enough to deal with this,” I admitted.

  “Yes, you are,” he said, reaching for my hands that now sat on the table in front of me. “You’re Willow Knoxx, daughter to one of the most notorious mob bosses in the US. You need to wait for Dominic’s call, and no matter how much you want to run, you better stay put and stand the ground you deserve to walk over.”

  “What about my father? He’s still going to be looking for me, I have no doubt he’s already found me by now.”

  “It’s dog eat dog, babe. It’s whoever gets to you first.”

  That night, I placed twenty tiny black hearts into my mason jar.

  I had no idea how many lies I had accumulated, but I knew twenty p
aper hearts would never be enough to help me over the next couple of days.

  One hundred and eighty-two tiny little lies, enough to tell me…

  I was a fucking liar.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A day. A night. A lifetime.

  Waiting, wondering, hoping.

  Holding on to something worth fighting for.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  Watching, taking in every inch of Tate he slept soundly beside me.

  Hiding in plain sight.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Withdrawn, hopeless, a complete fraud.

  One week and not a single shred of news. Nothing, no one.

  Tate knew something was wrong. I was breaking into millions of pieces and he knew it. Every night was the same as he clung to me in my bed, as if he was trying to hold me together while he slept.

  Tate holding me. Me holding Tate while my other hand was secured around the Glock beneath my pillow.

  Living through my worst nightmare.

  Tate and those that I loved right in the firing line of my past.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Motherfucker!” I shouted, snapping my nail as I threw my clothes into my old and tattered suitcase.

  I hadn’t been prepared—I was always prepared for every eventuality—but this time I was completely caught off-guard. The phone call from Dominic came late in the night. I’d never been a heavy sleeper, years of being woken in the night by every tiny noise prevented me from sleeping more than a couple of hours. But last night I was sleeping heavy for the first time in a long time; it was the worst mistake I could have possibly made.

  As soon as I saw the number on my phone light up the screen, I knew. My world all but fucking flipped on its head, crumbling beneath me. I had fucked up, big time. People were going to get hurt, people I cared about, people I loved. All because I had gotten comfortable, careless. I wasn’t brought up to settle in one spot for more than a couple of years, but here I was: six years later, settled in the same spot. Christ, I’m such a fucking idiot.