The children joyously charged through the concrete grounds, racing around each other as if they had inhaled rocket fuel. They were crazy, I concluded, shaking my head. I'd taught them math and literacy this morning and they were acting like I'd caged them for hours on end with no respite. I understood their qualms about trigonometry but we were doing poetry in literacy-that should have been exciting enough for them, right?
Anna had disagreed with me when she caught sight of my planning. "How do you get them to stay awake?" She wondered, grimacing at the task sheet I'd devised.
"With my awesome method of teaching, thank you very much," I replied as I snatched the paper back. "Besides, it's not all down to me. We follow a curriculum program so we plan based off on that."
"Still, your planning is enough to cure my insomnia. Hey, you could go international with it, become one of those life changing ads you get on YouTube that they swear no one else has ever come across!"
Dryly, I replied, "One thing's for sure, I'd definitely earn a hell of a lot more money. But not everything's about that so I'll stick with what I'm doing, thanks."
It rained today but at least that meant some respite because the last few weeks had been scorching. Anna mentioned climate change every time I complained about how hot it was. I agreed, which she then took as my affirmation in attending a climate change protest.
"I think I'll just quietly protest in the sanctuary of my house."
Anna narrowed her eyes accusingly, "You said you were going to drive electric. And switch to climate conscious brands."
"One thing at a time, Anna. I've just moved to a new city and that's enough change to last me for a few months."
It was a year later now, after all the events that had taken place. A year after my abduction and Ben's death. I'd badly needed a change and despite how much I loved Vancouver, it was agreed that I needed to move on with my life. So, I packed up my things, hoping for a fresh start and settled in Seattle. It was perfectly situated for me, close enough to Mum and Dad's place in Vancouver whenever the need called for it. Danny also was situated in the same city; he was about forty minutes away from me and was around pretty often.
A year ago, after that unexpected impromptu meeting with the bikers in that tucked away diner in the secluded area of town, EC had sprung into action. It didn't take long after that to track the Nines down. We found out all the information we needed after that; names of the notorious leaders, places, significant events and when the links were made, we were all looking for the ultimate ringleader. The one right at the top of the chain, who'd orchestrated everything.
The mafia Don. Marcel Rotolo.
He was untouchable. Even for EC. With links in all the right places, he'd been untraceable all this time. Jago vowed to formulate a plan to lure him out. The rest of EC stood by him, motivated by Ben's death, despite that he'd died trying to save me.
I'd tried to bury that fact deep inside me, but once in a while it poured out. It made me all the more determined to make the most of what I had. He was buried in Vancouver and I'd visited his grave as much as I could when I went back. It felt unreal, even now, that someone like Ben had just gone and all that was left were a handful of memories, the best of which were when I first got to know him.
I later came to know he was leaving a pregnant girlfriend behind. He'd never mentioned her to me, but Jonno confided the news to me, and I went to meet her a month before I moved away. She was a sweet girl, but different to what I'd expected. Bluntly honest, and passionate in what she believed in, she had no problem speaking her mind. I'd never thought of Ben falling in love with such a fiery personality, but Sophie was that and more. She had a strength inside her I could only crave to possess.
She had given birth to a gorgeous baby boy, who she'd named Joseph, which has been Ben's middle name. He was seven months old now, and resembled Ben with his curly black hair and smile, but had his mum's hazel eyes. Sophie video-called me often, proudly displaying Joseph crawling towards her and mumbling nonsense.
Jenny video-called me often too in the beginning. She'd moved away to LA before my move, having been made an amazing work offer there. Now she was busier than ever, swept away into the world of fashion photography in the field of modelling. She enjoyed it immensely but her deadlines and timings meant that she hadn't called in a while.
She called me today though, just as I arrived back home from work, her face shining brightly onto the screen of my phone. "Hey, how are you doing?"
"Good thanks. Heard you've been busy making waves in the fashion industry?"
Jenny rolled her eyes, "Wouldn't go that far, but I have been working with some famous faces." She sighed, "It's incredible, I never would have thought a few years ago that when I finish my degree, this would be what I'd be doing. Sometimes I can't even recall how any of this has happened."
"So, I take it you're not bored of LA yet then?"
"Bored? As if. It's always bustling and in the right areas, you can count on bumping into more famous people."
"Still living the dream then?" In all reality, I was happy for her; she had long needed a fulfilling role in her life. I had seen her work in leading magazines, but recently, she'd been mentioned in one of the country most infamous magazines as a photographer to watch out for. She was quickly climbing the ropes too, having had a recent promotion.
"Definitely." Jenny shifted so that her chin rested on her hand, "Anyway, enough about me, I should be re-directing the bored question to you."
I laughed, "No, I really like it here. I love my new class; so many personalities that keep you on your feet. Weather's mild, well less rain than Vancouver, and there's lots to do. So in answer to your question, no, I'm not bored yet."
"How's Anna doing?"
"Fine, have you spoken to her recently?"
"I called her a few days ago. Can you believe she only has two months left to go?"
"I know, it's exciting. I helped her decorate the nursery last weekend."
"Aw, I want pictures now!"
I laughed, "I'll send them over in a bit."
Anna was pregnant, discovering the news when she was just a month in her relationship to an IT technician called James. She'd met him in a local bar, lost his number and then they had a chance encounter in a local store, after which they'd been inseparable. She told me that she'd thought he was just a nerd at first, but had uncovered the different layers of his personalities later on, something which I quickly told her I didn't want to know the details of.
James had proposed to Anna a few months ago and despite how others thought it was too soon, I thought he was a genuinely great guy. He was smart, incredibly witty and kind, and seemed to think the world of Anna. I was glad that my best friend had found someone like him. Someone with a great sense of humour, loving and compassionate. I couldn't be more happy for her.
*****
In a hot humid day back in Mid July last year, after my recovery and that conversation in the bikers' diner, I received a phone call from Jago.
"I'm going to send Jonno to collect you in twenty minutes." He told me after he'd asked whether I was busy. I wasn't really, it was Saturday and I'd timetabled in a lazy day, with no chores or shopping.
Jonno turned up like he'd said and carefully informed me that they'd found the man responsible for Mabel's death. He'd told me to take a seat before delving into the details. He was Marcel Rotolo's son, and initially EC had lured him using his weakness; a 'young escort' to accompany him on his night out in a famous casino in Las Vegas. The 'young escort' was a member of the BlackSnipers and despite claiming her age was 17, she was in fact 25.
Everything else fell into place after that, and within an hour he was in the company of both EC and the BlackSnipers, who took great pleasure in subjecting him to humiliation, with the objective of outraging his father enough to bait him.
"We thought, with Marcel running the show, he'd be the one responsible for your sister's death." Jonno explained.
"But he wasn't?" I guessed.
"No. It was his son as we found out."
My heart thundered a terrifying beat, "How did you find out?"
Jonno shrugged, "He just confessed. I guess he thought that's why we took him in the first place, and he just spilled his guts."
But I wanted to be sure, "You're a hundred per cent sure it was him?"
"He said it was him. Why would he lie?"
Why indeed?
The drive to the air was sombre. I'd packed a bag and my passport, and we boarded the first flight out to Las Vegas. I'd phoned Mum and Dad telling them I'd be away that weekend with Danny, knowing Danny was also going to be there. Understandably, they were worried, but I told them frankly that I couldn't be wrapped up in cotton wool, despite everything that had happened. I don't know if it sank in, but if I was ready to move on, then that's what counted.
Las Vegas was lively even at that time of night when we arrived. It was a tall tower block that was undergoing construction, left abandoned as the sun started to set, and now provided easy access to us as we entered. We were silent as we climbed the stairs, and then before entering the vicinity where EC were waiting and Marcel's son, I stilled.
Jonno sensed my lack of movement and turned, "Isla?"
"I don't think I can do this," I confessed quietly.
He only looked at me, his eyes understanding and empathetic, "I get that. But you're one of the strongest people I know, Isla. You've been through so much and I think it's all been leading up to this." He put his hand on my shoulder, "If you don't use the chance you have right now to face your sister's murderer, it'll be the biggest regret of your life, and it'll haunt you forever."
He was right. It already haunted me that we hadn't found him for that long, and now we had I couldn't waste the opportunity. Giving him a nod and squaring my shoulders, I told him I was ready. Jonno flashed me a quick little smile of encouragement before we both strode in.
Marcel Rotolo's son, Alessandro Rotolo was a pathetic sight. His hands and ankles bounded together and his eyes blindfolded, he knelt on the floor in front of the men, who stood over him as if they were his executioners. Jago looked up as I arrived, pausing for just a split second and then walking towards me.
"You OK?" He asked in a voice just above a whisper. I knew the depth of his question but only nodded.
His hand reached out for mine to give it a quick squeeze, and in that moment, the heat of his skin felt like a current that shot to my heart and gave me all the courage I needed. Then he let go, and I immediately missed the warmth.
And like the moment hadn't even taken place, Jago's tone swiftly turned brisk, his eyes hardening, "He said he's the one responsible for your sister's death. He was there in London at the same time your sister disappeared. He said he saw a young girl on the streets, by her self and he waited until no one was around. He followed her for a few minutes before grabbing her and throwing her into the trunk of his car."
I could barely speak but managed to choke out, "Why?"
Jago shook his head, "He didn't say." Then he said quietly, " I think you should talk to him. If you want, I'll send my men out. But I won't leave you alone with him."
I nodded at that, and the five men in the bare panelled room left, until only Jago and I remained. Then slowly, I forced my legs towards the man still on his knees.
"Alessandro," My voice was clear, reverberating in the still air, "my name is Isla Summers. The girl you say you took was my sister."
Following my gaze, Jago pulled the gag away from Alessandro's mouth.
"I wanted to ask you why. Why take an innocent seven year old girl?"
Alessandro's mouth quirked just the tiniest fraction, happening so slightly I thought I imagined it. But when he shook his head, I realised I hadn't.
"Alessandro?" I asked again, because the blood in my veins was starting to bubble up.
"I have nothing to say to you."
Something flashed inside me, "No," I marched towards him, "You do. Because you said you took my sister, and ripped her life away from her. So how dare you tell me you have nothing to say?"
The man shook his head again, his short brown waves tussled and shiny with perspiration. "I'm not saying anything to you."
"You will." I said matter-of-factly. "Mabel was my sister. You took her and...assaulted her." As those words escaped me, my chest heaved into a sob, "She was seven. Just a child. How could you? You sick, perverted monster."
He only smiled.
With a low growl, Jago stormed to him and yanked him to snarl, "You fucking shit! Is this some sort of a joke to you?"
Pulling his arm back, his fist collided with his face in force. Alessandro's head whipped back, the sound of the attack bouncing across the empty walls. Then gripping his shirt by the neck and tightening it around his fists, he spat in his face, "You're going to tell the lady everything she wants to know. You listening, you shit-assed paedophile?"
"I'm listening," wheezed Alessandro, struggling under Jago's grip. "But I'm no paedophile. I ain't sick in the head."
"Don't fucking lie to me!" Jago made out like he was going to punch him again, and Alessandro must have sensed it because he flinched.
"I aint lying, I swear."
Now I cut in, my hands shaking with anger, "You took my seven year old sister and assaulted her. I would say by definition of the word, that makes you a paedophile."
"I'm no paedophile," He repeated. "I didn't do anything to her. I just took her."
That stopped Jago in his tracks. "What do you mean? Who did you take her too?"
Just then there was a noise of someone approaching and then Danny appeared. He rushed in, his eyes red-rimmed. "I tried to get here as fast as I could, but my flight was delayed." And then he took in the scene, his face visibly changing, "Is that him?"
Before we could say anything, he'd grabbed Alessandro, still bound and blinded, and grabbed him by his throat, forcing him to rise up to breathe. "You sick fucker! You wait and see what I'm going to do to you!"
"Danny, wait," I had no problem with his treatment of him; it was his earlier statement that aroused my curiosity. "He said it wasn't him."
Danny's eyes shot up incredulously, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, he said he took Mabel. But someone else...hurt her."
He turned his gaze back to the man in his grip and shook him, squeezing his throat, "Who?" He snarled, his face turning red with simmering rage.
Suddenly, yells could be heard ringing through the building, alarming us all.
I looked at Jago, who seemed as taken aback as us, and then a bang went off in the distance and more gun shots followed after. He quickly drew out his phone and got through to someone on the other side.
I watched as he gave a solemn nod. "Alright, we'll deal with our side." He turned to Danny, "My men dealt with a disruption inside. But there's someone in the building."
Danny was about to go to check it out when a man walked in.
He was tall and lean, a slim built and wavy brown hair that went past his ears. He was wearing a dark navy coat that almost reached his knees and a pair of black pants and polished, formal-wear shoes worn by business professionals. In fact, his whole attire made him look like he was heading for an office meeting, rather than a confrontation in a construction site.
"I'd like to request for you to leave my brother alone." His voice was smooth, like velvet, making him appear to be a pleasantly soft-spoken individual. But it was his eyes, that even in the dim lighting of the room, held an unmistakable glimmer that alluded to sinister thoughts.
"Who the fuck are you?"
"Fernando Rotolo. Delighted to meet you, I'm sure. That's my brother you've got there, quite defenceless which gives you an unfair advantage of victimisation. If you can kindly let him go, it would greatly appreciated."
"Yeah, well, I'd like to 'kindly' reject your request," Jago retorted. "Because we're trying to establish what happened to a seven year-old girl five years ago."
Fernando quirked one of his pencil-thin eyebrows, "And how is that relevant to my brother?"
"It's relevant," Danny bellowed, his body shaking with fury, "As your fucked-up brother confessed to abducting her and...assaulting her!"
"Woah, let's hold on here. Your accusation is baseless and extremely far-fetched beyond belief. Let him go." And with those last three words, his tone of voice changed, stripped back until the threat behind his words were exposed.
No one moved for about two seconds.
And then Jago pulled Alessandro up, walking with him towards the tall man, "Fine. I'll let him go. One on condition."
Fernando raised both his eyebrows, mockingly indicating he was listening.
"He confesses to what he did."
We watched as the man blinked slowly.
And then a smile, an ugly smile stretched across his lips, "He can't confess to something he didn't do. I mean, I tried, believe me I did. But I guess your loyalty to your brother can only stretch so far."
I think we all comprehended what he meant at the same time.
With a roar, Danny leapt towards him and Fernando did nothing to defend himself. He was on the ground within a second, and then Jago's men stormed in, and did a double-take at the scene.
Jago shook his head, holding them off and managed to prise Danny off Fernando, who was quick to recover, sitting up to smooth back his hair.
"You fucker!" Danny yelled, "It was you, wasn't it? You got your mentally retarded brother to take my little sister, you fucked-up ass-shat!" He went on screaming obscenities and all the while Fernando sat, a smirk on his long face.
When he was all out of breath, Fernando then took the opportunity to say, "You can't touch me. My father is one of the most influential men on the planet and his men are waiting outside for the first sign of a struggle."
"Funny that," Jago remarked, his eyes gleaming. "There's just been a struggle and I can't see your men anywhere."
For the first time since he'd arrived, a strange look passed Fernando's dark eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it'd appeared, "They're on alert. One word from me and they'd obliterate you all." His eyes passed over the seven men in the room, and over me. "Every one of you, especially the girl."
I saw the way Danny was about to leap up again to punch his twisted face and the way Jago's mouth tightened, but he held onto Danny's shoulder, muttering something to him.
It was Jonno who broke the news to him, "You mean the men who have just had their brains splattered on the concrete outside and that our men are currently dragging away to the incinerator down below?"
Fernando blinked and then a ghastly smile stretched across his face, "You're bluffing. It's commendable, but just a bluff."
"No," Jonno said slowly as though he was speaking to a child, "I'm just telling the truth."
And he took out his phone to show him a photograph. A picture of some men from EC doing exactly what he'd just said.
The man's face hardened into a gnarl, "You won't get away with it. My father will never forget this. He'd take you down in a second."
"Your father's dead," Jago informed him. "Your brother's escort of the night killed him when he tried it on with her earlier tonight."
It was remarkable, the change of emotions on a man like Fernando's face. A range that flitted across his narrow and tight features, his pale face that transformed with rage and then reluctant acceptance.
"Fine, you win this far. But Isla Summers and her brother so desperately want to know the details of what their precious little sister went through." He cooed, "I'll grant them their wish, shall I? After all, it's what they've been trying to uncover for so long."
Before we could say anything, Fernando turned to me, his dark eyes shooting through mine with such intense malice that I felt transported back to when I'd been imprisoned in that dark basement. My body shuddered and the only comfort I found was that three of the men with who I trusted my life with were in the same vicinity as me.
"I'll tell you all the details. Tell you every last little action she did before I killed her. Every last whimper, every last breath, every last word. What she screamed for before I finally finished her off. What she felt like under my touch."
His vile, revolting words spewing out from his repugnant mouth stunned us all. Danny spluttered, his face shattered with outraged hatred and horror. "Shut your shit-loaded mouth, you fucking repulsive bull-shitter!" And then, in a flash he'd advanced on Fernando and landed such an intense punch on his face, that the man was flung across the floor and the blow resonated through the walls.
"Our father's men will come after you. They will never let you get away with it." It was Alessandro nasally voice that cut thinly through the conflicted atmosphere.
"I think they'll get over it just fine," Jago corrected him. "We've made a truce with the local crews in the area and Bernard Ferrero seemed more than happy when I last spoke to him."
I didn't know who this Bernard Ferrero was but I had an inkling he was probably someone who'd been close to Marcel or someone with sufficiently high ranks within the Nines. Whoever he was, the news made Alessandro groan, until Rick reached to untie his hands.
"What are you doing?" He asked confused and a little fearful. Rick smirked, glancing at Jago who nodded at him.
"Having some fun," He replied. "Turn around." When Alessandro obeyed, Rick yanked his arms back to re-tie them there before shoving him back onto the floor. "I think that's a lot better."
After Fernando was also tied up, Jago came up to question me on what I wanted. "What do you mean?" I asked him, unsure of his meaning.
"I mean, this is completely up to you," His eyes darted to Danny, "You two. You get to decide how this ends."
"I want him dead." Danny said in a monotone voice.
Jago questioned me with his eyes and I slowly nodded, "I agree."
"OK. How?"
Unable to reply with words, Danny marched towards Fernando and launched his foot into his face. When he coughed in response, he pulled them to him to land a punch on his eye. Jago turned to Rick, who'd retrieved a set of tools, and approached Danny. "I think these might help."
It went on, the torture, until it reached a point where my stomach really couldn't handle anymore. I retched, forcing Jonno to comfort me.
"I'm fine," I whispered to him, struggling to keep my tears at bay.
"No, you're not. And like I said before, that's completely OK," He responded. "Do you want to stay here or go?"
My eyes lifted to meet his and he saw the conflict in mine. "It's OK to leave, Isla. You hold all the cards here."
Thinking about it, I finally conceded, "I don't think I can leave. I have to be here."
We looked up then at Jago who'd come over. "Fernando says he wants to talk to you."
"If it's anything like what he said before, I don't want to hear it."
Jago shook his head, "Go speak to him. You won't have another chance."
He was right and despite how my entire body crawled in reaction, I knew I had to speak to my sister's murderer while I still had the chance.
Fernando was bloodied, and bruised, his lips crimson and purple, blood pouring from his fractured nose. His fingers had been bent backwards and the tips of them hung pathetically, clearly useless. But he still attempted a smirk.
"Isla Summers." He spat out blood before resting his eyes on me. His malignant eyes, still laughing sardonically at us. At me. "You wanted to know about your sister before she died."
"I did." I responded, proud of my ability to keep my voice steely, "But if you bullshit me again right now, you'll only feel the consequences."
His head gave a little shake, brushing off my warning, "Your sister was something else. So child-like and yet so smart. I wondered how a child could encompass such a spirited mind, not unlike yourself. I've heard about you, Isla. I've been watching you for a long time."
My breath caught in my throat. What did he mean?
"I saw you last night, crying yourself to sleep after that long shower in the bathroom. It surprises me how you sometimes sleep naked."
"Shut up." My voice was raspy as mortification, humiliation and a feeling of being stripped bare poured over me. I wanted to jap my fingers in his eyes.
"You've got a beautiful body, Isla. You shouldn't be ashamed."
"Shut up!"
"Almost as beautiful as your sister's. She had such soft skin-"
He couldn't continue and if I hadn't let out that animalistic growl, I knew Danny would have killed him there and then. Instead, it was me who jumped onto him, beating my fists into his laughing face. "You're a sick, sick, monster, you vile, repulsive shithead! How dare you!"
But in the midst of my anger, my grief poured out, all that grief bottled up over the last five years, everything inside me shattered and flooded out.
It was Jago who lifted me up into his arms, holding me up, my feet dangling in the air as I struggled against him, his hand behind my head forcing me to rest it over his shoulder and against the nape of his neck. His voice breathed over my ear, "Shhh, it's OK, love. It's OK. It's over. It's all over."
Through my crying, his words clicked in my brain as it registered what he'd said. My tear-filled eyes opened to see Danny's hand wrapped around a blood-soaked knife as he thrust it repeatedly, furiously into Fernando's torso. Over and over again. Jonno had to step in, his hand on Danny's arm to halt him.
The knife clattered to the ground.
Danny crumpled to the ground, his own grief finally overwhelming him as he wept.
It was over.