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The nurse comes over and uses her stethoscope to check for a heartbeat. Once she announces my mother’s time of death, I break down. A crash ensues as Bain angrily gets up from his chair, causing it to tip and fall to the floor. He leaves the room without a word, but I’m okay with that. I need a moment to gather myself.
I stay and help the nurse take care of my mother’s body and then sit with Mom until the coroner gets to the Manor. Only then do I leave my mother’s side so I can search for Bain. He needs to sign papers before they take her and may want to see her one last time.
I hear the racket long before I come to stand outside Bain’s office. I flinch with every crash taking place on the other side of that door. I knock, but I get no answer, so when it goes silent inside, I turn the knob and slowly open the door. The office is in complete disarray, with broken furniture everywhere and papers littering the floor.
I look across the room and see Bain staring out the tall window, one hand on the window frame, bracing himself as the other hand brings a glass to his lips. I walk silently over and stand beside him. Looking out into the dark night, not even the moon and the stars can be seen due to the cloud cover. It’s very fitting for what we are feeling.
I glance at my stepfather, and when he doesn’t look my way, I hold my hand out for his glass. Finally, his eyes land on my hand, and he places the glass in it, letting me sip the burning liquid. I cough just a little and hand it back to him.
Looking out the window, I focus on the darkness as I tell my stepfather why I’ve come. “The coroner is here. They need you to sign some papers before they take Mom.”
All I get is silence.
As I turn and start for the door, his voice has me pausing. “I’ll be down momentarily.”
I don’t bother responding before continuing out of the office. The burn of the whiskey is still prominent in my throat, but I welcome it. In fact, as soon as I relay the message to the coroner, I go to the kitchen and search for a bottle of liquor. It doesn’t matter what it is, just as long as it gives me the same burn Bain’s whiskey did.
Finding some vodka in one of the cupboards, I turn the light off and sit in the dark at the little nook in the corner of the kitchen. I grabbed a glass, but I don’t bother using it as I drink straight from the bottle. I need to feel numb; it’s what helped me when my father died, and I know it will help this time, but I need to find it without using drugs again. It’s either I find what can numb me, or I need to feel the pain.
My hand slips between my legs, feeling for the old scars still littering the insides of my thighs. I sigh as the memories come back to me. I have nobody here to stop me anymore. Beau is gone, and Bain will be too wrapped up with his work, or God knows what else he will use to help him cope with the loss. My coping mechanisms all seem to hurt me in some way, but what do I do?
I’ve drank about a third of the bottle and feel pretty good. I’m not much of a drinker, so it hits me differently than others. Grabbing up the bottle, I get up and hold onto the table to steady myself before walking out of the kitchen. I need to get to my room. My phone is there, and I must leave a message for Beau. Maybe if I tell him my mother has passed away, he will come home.
I stop walking as I think about the thought that just crossed my mind. My mother died, and he knew I was back home. He should have been here for me; the old Beau would have been here. Anger fills me with thoughts of Beau off living it up somewhere, probably with some other woman, while I’m here mourning not only the loss of him but now the loss of my mother.
Stumbling up the stairs to my bedroom, I’m glad I chose another room when I returned to the Manor because I don’t think I would have made it up another flight of stairs. I spot my phone where I had tossed it earlier and climb onto my bed to grab it. Taking another mighty swig from the bottle, I scrunch my face and swallow the clear liquid. I’d rather have the whiskey Bain was drinking.
I dial Beau’s old phone number and wait for the voicemail to pick up, but it’s not the voicemail I hear. Heavy breathing on the other end has me sobering up really fast. I wait for him to say something... to say anything, but he remains silent.
“Beau? Is that you?” More breathing. “Beau, please talk to me…I need you. Mom passed away tonight… I don’t know how to deal with it. My mind is trying to turn dark; it wants the numbness back, and if it can’t have that, then the pain will have to suffice.”
Still no response from his end.
“I’m lonely…I want my husband back, Beau. I don’t care if the papers weren’t sent in; we can do it over. Do you hear me?I want my husband back!” I yell the last part through the phone, but the line goes dead.
I stare at the call-ended icon and throw my phone across the room. Bringing the bottle to my lips, I guzzle a few mouthfuls, knowing I will regret it in the morning. If I can’t be high or in pain, then I might as well be blackout drunk. What does it matter anymore? My life has come full circle; I’m back where I started before Beau. I would have been better off staying with the D’Angelo brothers.
When my thoughts turn to Sergio, the tears suddenly fall again. I’ve fucked so many things up in my life; maybe I’m not meant to be happy. Maybe being with the mafia brothers was well-deserved. It probably would have been the best my life would have gotten. At least I felt wanted by one of them. I wonder how Sergio is taking being locked up underground. Will he lose his sanity, or will he be able to keep it intact as he searches for a way out to exact his revenge?
Something is seriously wrong with me. I lay here, about to pass out, with two different guys on my mind. I’m angry at the man that I love more than life itself while wanting a man that I don’t love but know can help take my pain away just by laying his hands on me.Beau would smother me with his love, but Sergio would make it hurt for me if I asked him to.
Forty-Nine
The days and weeks following Mom's funeral all blend into one another. I've lost all sense of time as I blur through each day. I've only seen Bain in passing, and he looks as lost as I do. We are supposed to have each other, but a lot of good that does when we can't bear to look at the other because we are reminded of Mom.
I threw a welcome home party for Becca's son the day she was reunited with him. That was such a heartwarming day, and the happiness that I witnessed come over the quiet woman is something that I will never forget. My time with the brothers is beginning to turn from a dark time in my life to a time of something altogether different. Yes, I prefer that none of it happened, yet I wouldn't be standing here today, feelings of accomplishment and fulfillment running through me if it weren't for my time spent with them.
I was put inside that stronghold for a purpose…my purpose…and that thought alone is slowly allowing me to overcome the darkness I thought would swallow me up. Don't get me wrong, the D'Angelos were only one shade in my life; there are still others I've yet to get past. Darkness has many shades, representing different difficulties in life, and I have a few.
One is my love for Beau, which I can't seem to shake. No matter how hurt and angry I am at him for abandoning me, I can't let go. If anything swallows me up, it will be this. His absent presence in my life has my mind going in various directions. Did he ever really love me? Did he only help me get clean just so when he left me, I'd feel it in the deepest depths of my being? Is this his new way to bully me? This is what I think of every waking hour of every day.
I'm setting up for the next session with the ever-growing group I now have when my phone rings. Pulling it from my back pocket, I smile when I see Castor's name pop up. He always has good news when he calls me, so I quickly swipe right and answer.
"How many do you have for me this time?" It's not that I'm happy he's found more, but that he'srescuingmore; there's a difference.
"Hello to you too, Ryan," he chuckles. "I don't have them yet, but I wanted to reach out because I found that this location also has two minors. They are seventeen, but they are still minors, and well, I could really use you here with us when we extract them."
I bite my lip, contemplating whether I should go. I haven't gone anywhere since returning home, but I know Castor could use me to help soothe the women, especially the younger ones. Laney and Heather walk in, chattering with each other, and a thought comes to me.
