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How can they do this to such a little girl? How can they do this to me?
I watch as Daniel and my father walk into the opulent space of my father’s living room. We’re in his high-rise penthouse apartment, one I haven’t been in for a very long time. It hasn’t changed except for the photos that are now gone. Every image of my mother has now vanished. What was once a shrine to her on the side table is now a bar cart full of expensive whiskey.
My father comes toward us, and all I see is extreme disappointment on his face. Yet as I look up at him, I realize that I am the one that is disappointed. Disappointed and now very, very angry. I’m disappointed in myself for not seeing him for who he really is before now. Disappointed that I couldn’t protect Ivy from them all. But angry, so very angry, that these men in my life are using me as a pawn in whatever game they are trying to play.
“Still a fucking disappointment,” my father’s voice drips with disgust, and I don’t know how I have never seen it before. He has no love for me. No love for Ivy or Maggie, and I begin to wonder if he ever even loved my mom.
“We let you go off and have your fun, flirting yourself through Philly while we waited patiently for you to come back,” he continues, and I squint my eyes, trying to understand what he is saying.
My eyes flick to Daniel, his gaze fiery and hands on his hips. “Did you fuck him?” he spits out at me, and I pull Ivy closer to me. This conversation is jumping around so much I am getting whiplash.
“Carter Grange… Did you FUCK HIM?!” Daniel screams, stepping closer to me with every word.
“You’ve been watching me?” I ask in shock as it sets in, looking between him and my father. My father rolls his eyes, like I am a stupid girl, and perhaps I am. I should have known they would never have just let me leave New York that easily. I have always been part of their plan; it has just taken me until now to see it.
“Fucking whore!” Daniel yells out to the room, the anger at someone else having me when I won’t give myself to him evident. Ivy curls herself closer to me, whimpering. This conversation is not for little ears, so I hug her tighter, hoping to muffle the words that slice like knives through me.
It all happened so fast this morning. One minute, we were saying goodbye to Carter and getting ready for work and school, then the next, I turn and see both Daniel and my father in my kitchen, along with some goons who were not interested in being gentle as they grabbed me and my daughter and threw us into a blackened car, racing us to a private airfield.
We were in a private jet and in New York within an hour.
Now as we cling together, my father paces the floor in front of us, and Daniel looks like he is on the verge of violence.
“Fuck it,” my dad says as he comes to a stop in front of me. Leaning down, he grabs Ivy, who immediately starts screaming and reaching for me. I follow suit.
“No! NO! Leave her alone!! Give her to me!” I scream so loud my throat burns as he peels Ivy away from my hands, carrying her out in front of him, like she is infected with a virus. Daniel steps in front of me when I go to chase after them, halting my attempts with a firm grip that I fight with all my might.
“Mommy!!!” Ivy screams, tears running down her face as my father walks her out of the room.
“IVY!!!!” Daniel pulls me away from her, farther into the room and around the corner, slamming my body back onto the sofa as my screaming daughter is taken out of my sight, to somewhere I don’t know.
“Where is he taking her?” I demand as I stand back up again, looking at Daniel, who is mere inches in front of me.
“Play by our rules, and she will be safe. You will see her tonight. Go rogue, and you will never see her again.” He’s speaking in a voice I haven’t heard him use before, and a shiver runs up my spine. I look at him with tears in my eyes, my breathing labored, and watch as he brings his arm up slowly and strokes my cheek with the back of his hand.
My father walks back into the room, straightening his clothes, and running his hand through his hair. Walking up to us, he looks at me like I am filth. I would do anything for my daughter, and as I look at my father, I know for certain that he was never the man I thought he was. He is pure evil, money and status the only things that matter to him.
“Now, are you willing to start playing by our rules, because quite frankly, dear, your little tantrum of running off to Philly and the adolescent way you are conducting yourself down there with a known associate of the mob makes me question your worth,” my father says in his most condescending tone, as he goes to the bar cart and pours himself a tumbler of whiskey.
“If you touch a hair on her head, I swear to God—” I start to say, but before I finish, Daniel’s fist flies forward into my stomach, and I double over in pain.
Gasping for air, I keel over, my arms wrapping around my middle as Daniel leans over me. “I can’t go smashing that pretty face before the photos of our engagement tonight, but I can and I will make you fall into line. You belong to me now, so don’t you forget it,” he sneers, and I throw up all over his shoes.
“Fucking bitch!” he yells, punching me in the side, and I crumble onto the floor. The burn through my torso is intense, I have no idea how Carter does this for fun. My breath leaves me, my lungs stalled. I'm winded and try not to panic as I can’t expand my chest for a few moments.
If I ever make it out of here, I will be upping my self-defense training. I didn’t push myself as much as I should have to be prepared for this. I couldn’t feel any more pathetic right now.
My eyes water as I look up and see my father standing back, looking at us, taking a sip of his whiskey like he is watching his favorite sitcom for entertainment.
I already know I am going to be bruised black and blue, but it doesn’t compare to my broken heart at having Ivy ripped away from me, and at having my father stare at me like I am nothing.
Carter.
If only I could call him, my cell phone now in pieces on the side of the road somewhere between my house and the private airfield.
“We have been watching you. We know who you have been spending time with. Really, Catherine, I expected more from you than a low life criminal,” my Father says, taking another sip of his whiskey, not at all concerned that his daughter is on her knees, in pain and struggling to breathe.
“Your little Philly boyfriend can’t save you now. We will be engaged tonight, and he is not going to come near you again,” Daniel spits.
