by Lila Moore
My mother stumbled to a table and set down her bottle of champagne. A slow, instrumental jazz song started to play.
“Turn off that music,” she said.
No one seemed to be listening. The melancholic music continued. My mother held her new engagement ring up to the light. She swayed on her feet as if the yacht had suddenly entered rocky waters. She pulled the ring off her finger and looked closely.
A deckhand walked past us. Luke grabbed him in a chokehold and pulled the gun from his waistband. At the same moment, my mother shouted: “Fake! It’s a fake!”
She threw the ring into the sea.
The deckhands working on the life boat had finished their work. They turned to watch us. One of the deckhands approached with a gun; my mother grabbed it from him and pulled the trigger. The shot went wild, passing within an inch of Luke’s head.
The deckhand he was fighting pulled him to the deck of the boat. They became tangled together as they threw punches. The deckhand latched onto Luke’s forearm and sank his teeth into him. Luke managed to shake him free by gouging his eye.
My mother raised her weapon. She stumbled back and forth as she tried to find her target. Val closed one eye and bit her lip as she took aim at Luke. Without thinking, I ran for her. The gun went off. The flesh on my upper left arm burned like I’d been touched by a hot iron poker.
I didn’t stop. I managed to knock her to the floor and wrestle the gun away. My mother squirmed out from underneath me and started to run.
“Stop or I’ll shoot!” I yelled.
The deckhands stood a few feet away. I pointed the gun at them and told them not to come any closer. Luke was still in a vicious fight. I pointed the gun into the air and pulled the trigger. It went off with a loud bang. I jumped at the sound. With a final punch, Luke knocked the man unconscious. He staggered to his feet with a bloody face. He licked his lip, tasting the blood. His eyes fell on my arm. He ran to me.
“You’ve been shot,” he said.
I looked down at my arm. The bullet had grazed me, leaving a bloody gash near my shoulder.
“It’s fine,” I said, my voice trembling.
“It’s fine,” my mother said mocking me.
I took a step towards her. Luke put his hand over mine.
“Give me the gun, sweetheart.”
I pointed the gun at my mother.
“After everything you’ve done, you still have the nerve to stand there and mock me?” I said.
She rubbed her face. Her forehead was sweaty and her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes. Her skin looked strange as if it was stretched out. She suddenly looked ugly. All the plastic surgery and injections had taken their toll on her body.
“He was going to marry me,” she said. Her voice was high-pitched; she was slurring her words badly. “We still can, y’know? Gigi and her baby don’t mean anything. Tell her, Luke.”
Luke shook his head. “It’s over Val. You’re going away for a long time.”
“Going away?”
She laughed hysterically. The sound frightened me. I took a step back, running into Luke. He stepped around me and put his hands over mine again. He was afraid I’d shoot her. I was tempted.
“Give me the gun, Genevieve.”
“Yeah, Gigi, give your new Daddy the gun,” Val said with a smirk. “Let me tell you something about Daddies. They suck the life out of you. You give and you give and they take and take. You may think I’ve been living easy, but this is work Gigi. Hard work. You look at me and see a monster. I wasn’t born this was. Those men turned me into this. Luke’s no better than the others. He’ll turn you into his little Sugar Baby soon enough. You’ll see. In the end, you’re my daughter. You’re destined to be just like me.”
“No. I’ll never be like you.”
My hand trembled. I started to squeeze the trigger.
“Gen, she’s not going anywhere,” Luke said. “We’ll take her back to shore. She’s a mess. We can have her committed or arrested, or both. Whatever you want. This doesn’t need to end in more bloodshed.”
I stared down the barrel of the gun. One squeeze of the trigger-just a little more pressure-and the gun would fire. My problems would be solved forever. I dropped the gun. I couldn’t do it. I’m not a killer. For all her faults, she was my mother. We would always be connected-for better or worse.
“Look at you,” she said, “already obeying your new Daddy like a good little pet.”
“Bring the boat into port,” Luke told the deckhands. They stared at him, unmoving. “Now!” Luke ordered. He raised the gun and pointed it in their direction. They quickly scurried away.
Luke lifted my arm and examined the wound. It didn’t hurt, but it was bleeding heavily.
“Are you okay?” he asked again.
“I’m fine.”
My mother unpinned her hair and let it fall, long and wild. She ran her fingers through it and stared up at the moon. Even after everything we’d been through, I couldn’t help thinking she looked ethereal. Then her eyes fell on me. Her face twisted into a sneer. Her looks changed completely, depending on who she was looking at. It was frightening.
Luke took my face in hand and turned me towards so him that I was forced to look him in the eye.
“Are you okay?” he asked for the third time.
I must have looked terrible. I nodded, though in truth I felt like collapsing from exhaustion. He kissed me sweetly, then pulled me towards him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Those things I said-I didn’t mean them. I was trying to con your mother. I figured if I couldn’t win by my own rules, then I’d win playing by hers.”
I laughed, not from amusement, but exhaustion. “I’m glad someone finally beat her at her own game.”
“You understand that I didn’t mean anything I said, right? I would never sale you out like that.”
“At the time, I wasn’t sure. But I see it now.”
He kissed me again, soft and deep. His lips were warm against mine; his body felt hot and inviting. I wanted to curl up in bed beside him and sleep for days. I pressed my body against his. My lips parted; I felt his tongue pass over my mouth.
Heat stirred inside. It was a nice reminder that I was still alive.
A splash interrupted our brief moment of happiness. I turned towards the sound. It came from where my mother had been standing.
“No…” I whispered.
She was gone. Luke ran to the railing and looked down. I was quick on his heels. I looked into the water. Waves rippled across the dark surface. A piece of pink fabric from my mother’s dress floated slowly away. My mother was nowhere in sight.
Luke
The morning light was harsh. My head throbbed and my mouth was dry. I felt like I had a bad hangover. Absently, I wondered if I had a concussion. It didn’t matter. All that mattered now was making sure Genevieve was safe and that she understood how much I loved her. It broke my heart when I thought back to last night. The look on her face as I proposed to Val would haunt me for a long time.
I never wanted to hurt Gen; I just wanted to save her. Did she understand that though? We had the rest of our lives to look forward to. If it took that long to convince her, then I would happily meet the challenge.
“Senor?”
I turned to find one of the searchers. He had a radio in his hand.
“I’ve received word from the team,” he said in Spanish. “They are quitting.”
“Already?”
“This is a small bay and they have searched thoroughly. The woman’s body has either been swept out to sea, or…”
He shrugged.
“Or she made it to shore,” I said filling in the blank. “Thank you.”
I stared out over the water and watched as the dive crew came back to the beach. It was a long swim to the beach from the yacht. It was hard to imagine a sober, athletic person making the swim, let alone someone who was as drunk and high as Val.
I wondered what would upset Genevieve worse: the death
of her mother, or the knowledge that her mother was alive and well and free.
Six Months Later
Genevieve
I giggled as Luke turned me onto my side, then flipped me over onto my back. My baby bump was so big that it was difficult to find an angle that worked for us.
He ran his hands over my bare stomach, kissing my bump above my popped out belly button. I thanked God I was close to my due date. If I got any bigger, I was going to burst.
Luke kissed the top of my breasts and unhooked my bra. My breasts had grown huge in these last couple months. I barely recognized my own body. Luke loved it. He squeezed my tits together and ran his tongue over them.
I giggled foolishly. Pregnancy hormones had left me ultra-sensitive to the slightest touch. Everything tickled or turned me on; sometimes both.
The feeling of Luke’s tongue passing over my nipple made me laugh. I shifted beneath him. I was finding it hard to stay still.
He rose up before me on his knees. The light drifting through window was a warm orange. It made his skin glow. Staring up at him from my position on the bed, I had the strange sense that he wasn’t real. If I touched him would he disappear?
I reached for him, but he was too far away. Luke grabbed my hand and twisted his fingers between mine. He was naked and beautiful, like a Greek statue come to life. He positioned himself between my legs and slowly entered me.
I bit my lip and closed my eyes. An explosion of warmth and energy echoed through my body.
Luke took his time. Carefully, as if he might break me, he entered me inch by inch. He moaned, deep and throaty. The sound sent a chill through my body. He started to pump into me faster. I moved my hips, matching his pace. His strokes were quick, coming one after another in a fluid motion.
“Luke…” I moaned.
“Yeah, baby?”
I didn’t know what to say. I repeated his name again like a chant. The harder he fucked me the more dazed I felt.
“God, you’re beautiful, you know that?” he said.
I responded by moaning.
I arched my back and gripped the sheets. I was breathing hard; my face was flushed. Heat passed over my skin in waves.
Luke grabbed my hips and pulled me across the bed. He turned me onto my side and laid down behind me. His leg slid between mine, spreading them. I started to grind against him. I was desperate to feel him inside me again.
“Fuck me hard,” I groaned.
I didn’t have to beg. Luke drove his cock into me with a quick thrust. I gasped.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I wanted to laugh. Since finding out I was pregnant he treated me like I was extremely fragile. He was terrified of breaking me. What he didn’t know was that part of me wanted to be broken. I wanted him to fuck me raw, to show no mercy.
I reached behind him and grabbed his ass. I squeezed, feeling his muscles tense beneath my hand. I pulled him to me. Luke didn’t need a second invitation. He pumped into me fast.
My breath came in short gasps; I cried out.
I laid back and let my body take control. I moved with the flow of Luke’s strokes, pushing and pulling against him. I felt like I was being controlled by primal instincts beyond my understanding.
The energy inside me rose to its peak. I dug my nails into Luke’s flesh.
“Yes…” I cried out. “Don’t stop.”
I was on the verge of cumming. I could tell Luke was too. A distant part of me envied his ability to stay in control. Not many men are capable of his level of stamina.
Heat rose inside me and crashed like a fire that had sucked up all the oxygen in the room. Luke finished at almost the exactly same moment as I did. We laid together for a moment and tried to catch our breath.
I was dying of thirst. I hopped out of bed and pulled a slip over my head. It was a gift from Luke on our first day in Paris. It was made from a delicate fabric that flowed loosely around me. It was completely sheer, leaving nothing to the imagination. It made me feel sexy, even now that I was hugely pregnant.
I poured a glass of mineral water and went to the window. On a clear day, if you leaned out over the balcony you could see the Eiffel Tower. Today it was too hazy to make out. I frowned and brushed my hair out of my face. It had grown long these last six months. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a haircut.
A flash of light drew my attention. I turned to see Luke had taken my picture with his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“You look beautiful standing there in the morning light. I don’t want to forget the way you look now before you have our son.”
I blushed and looked back out the window. The street outside our apartment was virtually empty. The city didn’t seem to wake up until much later. This time of morning was so quiet it was almost spooky. I loved it.
When Luke’s office transferred him to Paris, I was excited and scared. I’d never lived abroad, but Paris had turned out to be perfect. I never wanted to leave. I ran my hand over my belly and felt a kick.
“Little Frère Jacques is restless today,” I said.
We still hadn’t decided on a name.
“He’s eager to come out into the world.”
The thought took my breath away. What kind of world was I bringing my son into? A world of greed and lies where good people suffer and the bad guys win? No. That wasn’t my life; not anymore.
My mother had warned me that I was destined to turn into her. I would never let that happen. I’d never met my baby and I already loved him more than anything. I was going to make sure he knew it. I would do everything in my power to remind him every day. I would never abuse him or use him the way my other had done to me.
Still, her words haunted me. What if we’re all destined to turn into our mothers? I twisted my engagement ring around my finger. When Luke proposed, he hadn’t bought a ring yet. I was still in the hospital in Ibiza recovering from my gunshot wound.
I immediately said yes.
When he asked me what sort of ring I wanted, I’d said a plain gold band. Luke surprised me with an antique diamond engagement ring. Initially, I’d told him to take it back. It was too expensive and I didn’t want him to think I was like my mother.
Luke laughed off my request and said, “You’re not a plain girl. You’re complicated and beautiful. You deserve a ring that reflects that.”
I hate to admit it, but I’d grown to love my ring. It caught the light and sparkled brightly. I looked at Luke. He was stretched out on the bed, naked and strong.
“Come here,” he said.
I walked over to him slowly. He took my hand and kissed it.
“I love you, you know that?”
I smiled warmly, though my mother’s words still haunted me. Would I turn into her? Was that my curse? Where was she now? Dead, they said. Though no body had been found.
I looked out the window. A strange sense of peace overwhelmed me. Luke was love and warmth and safety. He would protect me and our baby and I loved him for it. I laid down beside him.
“Tell me your favorite French names,” I said.
“Are we giving him a French name now?” he teased.
I’d changed my mind repeatedly about whether to give the baby a French or American name.
“Yes. Now tell me-in French.”
“Oui, Madame…”
I traced the contours of Luke’s chest as he spoke to me smoothly in French. I didn’t know what he was saying. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that we were together and the bright day was still ahead of us.
Epilogue
Six Months Earlier
Val watched with a mixture of jealousy and disgust as Genevieve and Luke embraced. They were lost in their own little world, oblivious to her presence. It was now or never. She tore off a piece of her dress, then picked up a large toolbox one of the deckhands had been using to ready the lifeboat. She threw it along with the fabric over the railing. Before it could hit the water, she quickly darted out of
sight.
From her hiding spot, she could see Genevieve and Luke. They ran to the railing and looked over. She smiled at the look of fear on Genevieve’s face. For all her claims otherwise, she knew Genevieve cared for her deeply. And why wouldn’t she? Val had done more for Gigi than she’d ever know.
A hand suddenly slipped around her mouth. Val froze. Val wasn’t the type to panic, but the combination of prescription meds and alcohol and left her feeling edgy and worst of all: sloppy. Sober Val never would have fallen for that obvious con job Luke pulled on her. How could she have been so dense? She vowed to give up drugs and alcohol forever. They made her weak.
She turned to face Carmine. It was as she’d suspected. She knew he’d come looking for her. She’d betrayed him and he’d want petty revenge. He lacked the ability to play the game seriously. Val wanted to win. She kept her eye on the prize-except for just now when she’d fallen for Luke’s marriage proposal. She’d never forgive herself for being so stupid.
Carmine stared at her with a mix of outrage and longing. The big idiot still loved her even though she’d ordered the men to throw him to the sharks. What a fool. But fools have their uses. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his.
“Carmine,” she whispered. “We have to be quiet or they’ll hear us. Are you okay, my darling?”
He looked bewildered by her behavior. Good. She didn’t want him thinking clearly.
“We must get out of here,” she said. “But first we need to get something.”
She grabbed his hand and led him through the yacht to their room. On the bed sat all of their duffel bags full of money. She couldn’t take it all-that would look suspicious. It pained her to do so, but she left all of the bags behind except for one. She started to hand it to Carmine, then thought better of it. She couldn’t trust the idiot not to lose it in the water.
Now that she had enough money to live on for a while, they had to make their escape. She’d seen the men lower a second life raft. Could they sneak to it without being seen? It didn’t seem likely, but what choice did they have?
“There’s a boat with a man it,” Carmine said.
“What?”
