Page 2 of Endure the Pain
Taking the last step forward, I peered into the dimly lit room to find my father standing over a bleeding man. The man was dead. I could tell by his vacant, unblinking eyes. A woman was draped over his body, crying into his chest. Her hair was fanned out like a wild mane. The tangled strands looked like they had been dipped in black ink because her roots were red as blood.
The light reflecting off the gun in my father’s hand drew my attention, and the realization that it was him who had killed this man made me gasp. My father’s head whipped in my direction. His eyes found me right away. The feral anger carving his expression cemented my feet to the floor. I had never seen him so mad, but he quickly smothered it with an emotionless mask. All I could do was watch as he came toward me with such poise—like the ruthless king I’d always thought him to be. It was equally reassuring as it was frightening, given who he was and what he had just done.
Opening the door all the way, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into the room. My father ushered me to stand before the sobbing woman and the dead man. My bare feet stepped into something wet and my eyes dropped to the floor. To my horror, I was standing in the dead man’s blood. The thick liquid squished up between my toes and covered my sparkly nail polish. It was such a terrifying sight that I barely even noticed that my father had taken my hand and placed his gun in my palm.
My fingers instinctively closed around its grip and he guided my hand to point the barrel at the sobbing woman. I looked up at him, questioningly. His forest green eyes locked with mine. There was such an intensity to his stare that I thought I could see pain, sadness, and rage waging war against his self-control behind those eyes. Then he blinked and was back to revealing nothing. “Pull the trigger, Maura.”
The woman’s head snapped up. Her skin was covered in a layer of blood and half of her face was curtained by messy hair. Only one eye was visible. The color reminded me of gray clouds that blocked out the sun before it rained. Her one striking eye was wide, and it was staringright at me like nothing else mattered in the world. Just me.
It was unsettling to the point that I took a step back, bumping into my father. The back of my body molded to his legs. With the gun still pointed at her, my arm began to shake.
My father put his hand on my shoulder. The warmth it exuded helped ease the panic bubbling inside me. “Remember the rules of the game, Maura. Do you remember what I said about fear?”
I nodded slightly. “Fear is a tool, not a shackle.”
“Very good,” he said, squeezing my shoulder gently. “Now, find your strength and show the enemy they don’t hold any power over you.”
I closed my eyes to find the strength he spoke of, as if it might be another entity inside of me. I couldn’t find it and had to settle for taking in a deep breath. When I exhaled, my trembling lessened, my racing heart slowed, and I opened my eyes with confidence.
“That’s it,” he assured.
“You twisted bastard!” the woman snarled at him. “You never had the balls to pull the trigger yourself! You don’t deserve her, Stefan! She belongs to me!”
My free hand that was resting on my father’s leg fisted the fabric of his slacks. “Daddy.” My voice quivered.I didn’t like how she spoke to him. No one talked to him like that. Not unless they wanted to suffer.
“Like I’d ever allow my daughter to be around a crack whore who tried to sell her at six weeks old for another fix,” my father seethed. “And don’t think for one second that I actually believe you’re here for her. We both know it’s money that you’re really after. When I paid you to stay away, I warned you if you ever showed up here again or ever made your presence known to Maura, I’d make you regret it.”
“This isn’t about money. I know I made mistakes in the past, but I’m clean now. She deserves to know me and she’s old enough to decide if that’s what she wants,” the woman argued.
“I think that’s the best idea your coke-muddled brain has ever come up with. We’ll let Maura decide.” My father knelt down behind me. “Maura, do you want to stay with Daddy, or do you want to go away with this strange woman?”
That seemed like the stupidest question he’d ever asked me, and I opened my mouth to answer him, but he cut me off. “If you choose to stay with me, you are to aim this gun at her and pull the trigger because if you don’t, she’ll keep coming back.”
I glanced back at the scary woman, then back at my father. “Is she bad?”
“She’s not good to us,” he answered, and I caught sadness in his eyes again.
“Did she hurt you, Daddy?” I whispered.
“She hurt me by trying to hurt you,” he answered.
That was all I needed to hear. I aimed the gun with both hands and widened my stance like he and my uncle Conor had taught me.
The woman’s eye widened again. “Maura, sweetie, put the gun down. I’m your—”
I pulled the trigger.
The bullet shot out and her body fell backward. The recoil from the gun made me stagger and lose my footing. My father caught me and took the gun from my hands, before turning me away from the carnage to face him. His lips moved, but no words reached my ears.
Then the scene of my nightmare faded to nothing and I woke up.
CHAPTER 2
I awoke to a lot of pain and found myself lying in a hospital bed. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten there. The bright fluorescent lights stung my eyes and I had to squint in order to look around. To my surprise I was surrounded by a bunch of mobsters. Most of whom were asleep in uncomfortable looking chairs around the bed I was lying in. Dean was the only one awake. He was standing by the window, watching the rain pebble on the glass with a distant look in his eyes. He had a bandage on his forehead and bruises along his jawline.
How’d he get hurt?
Did it have to do with why I’m lying in a hospital bed?