Your Call

Chapter Eight

       I stayed silent, looking at the floor. "Leah, what happened?" Ayden goes for a softer approach. Nothing managed to slip past my lips. "Marco?" She questions, Marco breaks out into a shrug.

     "We greeted an elder, he had some sick infatuation with Aleah. Fucking creepy". Marco blurts out, Ayden's face going pale. "What elder?" A haunting fearful element in her voice scared me.

    "The Russo's" Ayden stands up looking at me before bringing me in for a hug. "Shit", she holds me close. "What the hell is going on?" Marco wanted to be clued in.

      "That's for Aleah to tell you. I think we should take her home. She won't be functioning for the rest of tonight". Ayden rambles off into a rant. I broke the embrace we were in. "You stay in my presence. I'll take Aleah home". Marco interjects, Ayden looked torn.

       "Uh, sure," Ayden murmurs out. Yet, there I stood dissociating from reality. Replaying every sick memory from my childhood. A hand grabbing mine, without my knowledge faint chatters continued. While Marco whisked me out of there.

        The moment I entered the Villa doors. A herd of maids, and butlers came rushing through. "Welcome back Miss!" I nodded, giving them a solemn smile. All of them greeting me at once? Marco looked at them snobbishly.

     My mind was too battered with emotions and thoughts. I couldn't bother to care. I walked off pushing past everyone. Heading right up to the bathroom. My hands pasted on either side of the vanity.

   Everything went wrong today, seeing my father for the first time in a decade. To Marco and I swapping saliva, just to take a jab at Danielle. I wanted nothing more than a sledge hammer to knock me out.

     My life was spent in shambles and fear for years. Hell, I lost everything – even losing my sanity when becoming a sex worker for the majority of my life. A weapon used for others pleasure and enjoyment.

     I contemplated everything. My life, my safety, and more importantly my sanity. Nothing could be left unsaid. Especially coming from my battered mind. My body is frozen in its own time capsule.

    Tuning out the small noises of others roaming the halls. Or Marco calling my name. What would I do? Change my name again, move to California, run away from this life? Alonzo knows, he had to have known. A father knows his daughter more than anyone.

   Mariana is somebody I wanted to keep hidden to the close eye for a longer time than most. After tonight, it felt like I needed to dig up a grave that's been left untouched. One, that nobody was meant to see. Mariana, frail, broken little girl – who wanted a safe haven.

      I couldn't shield her anymore. The trunk being pried open the fear slowly eating me alive. Like a predator cautiously waiting for something to happen. So they could wait for the prey to make the wrong move.

    I made the worst decision anyone could make.

    Mariana was running, just like that night. Running afraid of the tall figure chasing her. While tears found her face, screaming at the top of her lungs. Desperately needing to be heard. Until the concrete wall slapped her cold back. Stopping her from going further.

     That barrier is what I'm doing. Someone could have followed us. Cornered us into a wall. I thought somehow, I could avoid this. Running from my father, internally screaming in my head. Tears finding my face and my body driven into survival mode.

       Any clashing between time frames is my death. Marco or Alonzo, maybe it's better to off myself instead. Save both from the pleasure of them looking at me struggle. Blood poured out of my mouth, face swollen and bruised. Dried tears on either cheek.