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EMMA
Time was just another construct. The building was dark and the only light that came in was from the ones hanging overhead. My father had spent what felt like hours questioning me on why I ran away with Trevor. The man was so conceited he never stopped to think what a horrible and hated father he was. Nora was so brainwashed that she just followed whatever rules were in place, as long as she was provided for she didn’t care. William was my father's little clone. If he said jump my brother only questioned how high. I was the problem child, the rebellious one that never could follow the rules. I developed my own brain and could think for myself, and make my own decisions about the life I wanted to live. That life didn’t involve following my father's commands.
He blames Trevor for my rebelliousness. Thinking that it was after he had saved me from being kidnapped and us becoming friends I started acting out. He would be completely wrong though. I had always had these thoughts and fought against his rules in small little ways. After the incident of my almost being kidnapped, it opened up my eyes even more. I realized I wanted to live my life because you never knew when it was all going to be taken away from you. Sure, I could see how that would coincide with my meeting Trevor but he wasn’t the reason. No, he was just my means of helping to learn to live my life.
After having Alexis I changed. My fiery spirit as Trevor liked to call it, calmed down. I still wanted to live my life for myself but I knew my daughter needed me. I couldn't let my father take his hate of me out on her. I knew he would use her to control me and I guess in the end he did for the past nine years. My daughter got my fiery spirit as well and I hated forcing her to tame it. In private I tried to let her thrive and be whoever she wanted to be. As she got older Alexis started to understand why when we were around my father she had to follow a strict set of rules. I loved my daughter more than anything and I hated seeing the fear in her eyes when she would walk into the same room as him.
I thought about running. So many times I had thought about running away. First, when I had found out I was pregnant, and then again after I had Alexis and my father tried to take her away from me. As she continued to get older my focus was on doing what I can to keep her safe and happy. I took the beatings when my father didn’t like how she was acting. When one of them landed me in the hospital I knew a plan was needed to get us out. Go bags had been packed and had been hidden in the very back of my closet. Planning our escape hadn’t been the easiest. Trying to find ways to ditch my vehicle and phone that I knew my father tracked was one of the hardest parts because I couldn’t figure out how to get my hands on another vehicle. It wasn’t like I had a job and was earning money. No, I lived off the small amount of money my father had been nice enough to provide for me. One of my biggest regrets is that I never managed to get myself and my daughter free on my own. I never figured out how to get a car. I knew no one that I could ask for help.
When Trevor came back and found us, offering to take us away I leaped at the opportunity. A chance for us to be a family finally and get our happy ending. I should have known my father would find a way to ruin that. He always does. At least now Alexis was safe with Steel. As my father beat me earlier for refusing to give him the answers he was seeking, that was the thought that got me through. My father couldn’t use her against me to control me. No, now it was just me versus him. I lived through his beatings my whole life. I could continue to do so now.
“Why don’t you just give him the answers he’s seeking?” the male who was assigned to guard me asked.
Why?I would have chuckled if I could at his question. It’s such a stupid silly thing to ask. Of course, this mobster wouldn’t understand why I would hold out.
He was standing across from me leaning against a large metal beam. His black t-shirt was so snug on him that I thought with any sudden move it may very well tear. He was wearing a pair of black tactical pants and had a handgun strapped to his thigh. It wasn’t really all that much of a mobster look in my opinion but I knew he answered to the head of the mafia that my father was working with. His hair was shaved off and I could make out a star tattoo on the side of his head. Both of his arms were covered in all sorts of tattoos as well. If he wasn’t a complete dick, and I wasn’t in love with my high school sweetheart I’d say that he was good-looking.
“Seriously,” he pushes. “I know you think I’m an ass for standing here watching another man beat you. Personally, I don’t like seeing women being abused. I would never put my hands on a woman unless it was to protect them. Watching your father beat you pains me.”
“Pains you?” I chuckle darkly lifting my head to give him a death glare. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I growl through clenched teeth.
“I know more than you think,” he sighs and shakes his head. “Just give him his answers and he won’t need to hurt you.”
“If you think being nice to me is going to convince me to give that vile man what he is asking for, you have another thing coming. My father is an abusive piece of shit who can rot in the pits of hell. I will never give him what he wants and he will never control me. Some people have more to live for.” He didn’t deserve any sort of answer from me but I gave him one anyway. No matter how much he tried to fake being nice and genuine I could see through him. If he wanted to play the good cop he could try. He made his bed with the people he surrounded himself with.
“He just wants what’s best for you,” the bald man attempted to reason.
“Best for me? Ha,” I chuckle again even though it hurts. “No, he wants what will help him gain more power and money. He could care less about me. Best for me would be letting me live my life the way I want.”
“That’s not necessarily true. Every parent wants what is best for their kids to give them a better life.”
Seriously? Does this man have no damn brain? He knows who my father is, right?
“Are you a parent?” I change the conversation slightly to help make my point.
“No,” he mumbles, most likely already guessing where I’m about to go with this.
“Then you have no way to tell me what a parent should and shouldn’t do. I can tell you right now that if my daughter wanted to live her life a certain way I would encourage her every step of the way as long as it wasn’t illegal. I would never try to hold her back and force her to be someone she wasn’t.” My words are harsh, cold, and determined. Parents should support and love their kids, not hold them back and control them.
“Have you tried to see it from your father’s side?” He counters.
“His side?” I rumble. “He only sees me as a way to expand his influence. He could care less about me, my wants, and my desires. If you think you’re going to convince me to work with him, you may as well just shut up and continue to stand there looking scary, because your words won’t convince me of shit.”
He shut up after that and did exactly what I said. His eyes still showed his worry but he knew I wasn’t going to listen to a damn thing he said. My mind was made up and nothing would make me change it. If Trevor wasn’t able to save me, eventually I would save myself and get revenge on my father. That was the only option left.
For a while we both stayed in silence, staring at one another, just willing the other to break. Our little game was up when a door somewhere behind us banged open and then closed. I heard footsteps approaching us and my guard stood taller. My guess was at least one of the subjects approaching us was his boss. Which reasoned that the second set of footsteps was most likely my father.
Again.
“Take her to the holding cell,” the mafia boss from earlier commands. “She can wait and rot there.”
“Yes, Boss,” the guard responds, walking towards me. He quickly releases several of the ropes tying me to the chair before grasping my right bicep and dragging me out of the chair. I let out a small cry at the roughness of his movements. Everything hurts and his causing me to have quick movements weren’t helping me.
As we got further away from them his grip loosened a little on my arm and didn’t feel bruising. It was still tight enough that I couldn’t break free but at least I wasn’t going to be adding another bruise to the collection I had gathered. While walking away I could hear parts of the rushed conversation between my father and Wyatt. They were talking about seeing some motorcycle club sniffing around for answers. The mentioned one showed up at the diner looking at security cameras while another was following a trail that I guess one of Wyatt’s men had stupidly left behind. My father sounded pissed and Wyatt just sounded bored talking about it.
Their words made my mind start to wander. I have a feeling they may be talking about that Chaos Brotherhood. If that’s true I just needed to hold on a tiny bit longer. My chance to get away would be coming soon and when it did I would be running like my life depends on it because it really does.
“In you go,” my guard prompted as he opened the makeshift cell door and gently let me inside. As he shut the door behind me he instructed me to put my hands through the bars. When I did he untied my wrists and I finally had circulation back. Immediately I began to rub both of them trying to soothe the rope burn that had developed. It didn’t help much but it was better than nothing.
