TW// Some contents in this chapter can be triggering. Please be advised, this is a completely fictional story, but if it gets too heavy for you, feel free to skip ahead.
I'm starting to think we chose the wrong time of the year to get married. It's already stressing enough that it's the holidays and to add a wedding to it—what was I thinking?
Steph's dress is a problem. We didn't get it on the same day because my poor baby passed out when she found out she was pregnant. We went back the day after and eventually found one that is forgiving enough. Now, two weeks after, we're here to try the dress again and it. Does. Not. fit. The zipper goes all the way up, but she looks as if she's suffocating already. It's too close. The wedding is next Wednesday and I'm nervous if it's even going to zip all the way up by then.
She looks at me, defeated. "I'm going to cry."
"Okay, so what's going on here?" Ray asks, motioning to her midsection.
"Uhm,"
He pokes her sides and rubs his chin. "Hmmm." He looks back at me. "How far along are you?"
I shrug. She shrugs. "Not far. We don't know yet."
Ray nods. "So, we'll have to do some alterations. As I've mentioned, we have 1-2cm in the seams. We can pull from there, but I'll need you not to gain any more weight by Wednesday, please. It's just a couple of days."
"That's not up to her, Ray." I snap. "Don't make her feel bad about it. The last thing I want is her to starve herself to make a dress fit. It's just a dress and I'll buy another one if I must. I'll buy them all, Ray," I go up to her and she buried her face into my shoulder with a frown. "Just try to make this work for now."
He calls Kim over and they inspect her. "How far along are you?" Kim asks.
"We don't know for sure. About 6-7 weeks."
"Definitely more than 6-7 weeks," Kim says. They poke around her breast and ask her how the fit was up there. She said it is fine. I'm relieved that the fabric has some stretch in it. So even though it looks skin-tight, it's not as bad as it looks. In the end, they're only going to go into the seams for a cm on each side and switch out the zipper for a corseted back. That way, she'll have a little room while still having a close enough fit. In the meantime, we're all praying to God that that's enough.
She looks at me with gratitude on her face and a whisper on her tongue. "Thank you."
Ray sighs when it's over. "Mary never told a lie about you. You're turning me old."
"I appreciate your efforts, Ray. Really."
"Yeah, yeah."
We met up with Sierra, Grace, Amelia, and the kids for lunch. We're at this lounge up in Roslyn that's nice. The minutes we walk in, Irelee is gawking at everything. It's woodsy, with a variety of flowers and shrubs around. A small stream flows around the building's structure. Tiny fishes dive up and down in it. Lee and Max spent an incredibly long time gawking at them, Sierra encouraging their antics. When we go inside, there's another section that leads to an outdoor area with small exotic animals. Lee and Max run off to look at the parrot, the cockatoos, and the iguanas. Amelia and Sierra went with them.
I push the stroller out of the way while Grace speaks to the host about finding us a table. "How're you feeling?" I ask Sloane, tucking her hair away.
"Still feel normal."
"Good. That's good."
Grace looks back at us and waves us over. I turn to shout at the others. "Amelia, Sierra!" I point towards the table we got and they nod, coming over.
"So, did the dress fit?" Sierra is the one who dared to ask. Steph frowns immediately. "I'll take that as a no."
"It fits... Very, very closely."
"It barely fit. I felt strangled."
"But they're altering it," I tell them. "So, it's fine."
The table goes quiet and apart from everyone ordering, we only had small conversations. Trying to avoid anything wedding related because wedding=stress and we are trying to eliminate that equation right now. Irelee and Max talk about all the stuff they got for Christmas yesterday. Half of them are already broken, I don't know why I waste my money.
My phone dings to let me know I have a new message, but I ignore it mainly because of the baby I'm holding. Jace doesn't like to be put down for too long. Mia stands getting up from the table with an excuse me, her phone pressed to her ears. Grace pulls my attention before I could eavesdrop. "How's the case going? Any leads on Victor yet?"
"No." I shift in my seat and adjust the baby on my lap. They're starting to sit up now and it's a huge blessing. Irelee also loves that they are shuffling around a lot more when they're doing tummy time. She loved the gimmicks and they are no better. "It's a dead end everywhere. We just keep finding girls. It's disgusting."
Grace frowns. She takes a bite of her food and Jaylin opens his mouth, following the fork. She laughs, looking down at the baby in her lap. "You can't have this yet Bubba. This is spicy."
Yet as she says that, she's tearing off a tiny piece of garlic bread for him to taste. He welcomes it with an open mouth and devours it quickly, already looking for more. His brother got jealous and starts grabbing for my food on the table. "Gracie!" I blame her as I try to peer is little hand away from my plate. Damn does he have a strong grip.
Sierra laughs reaching for him. "Let me see if he'll take a bottle."
I pass the baby along to her while she makes a bottle, passing him to Sloane, who passes him to her. Watching her now, after four months, it's obvious how much better at this she's gotten. She's not so afraid anymore and everything is coming naturally. Even the way she multitasks as she does it all.
Jace refuses the bottle as she offers it, turning his head away and fighting to get up.
"He wants food, Mom," Lee tells her.
"Well, I'm sorry for him." She sits him up against her lap again and starts picking away at her food.
When Mia comes back to the table, she looks angry. I don't ask her about the call until we're outside. Lee and Max wouldn't stop bugging us until we come to see the animals.
"What's up?" I bump Mia's shoulder.
She frowns. "Lawyer called. Michael's not selling the restaurant."
"What!"
She shrugs. "He's literally holding it against me because he knows how much I've worked to get it and losing it is losing everything I've spent my life to build." I hug her, and she cries on my shoulder. "He gives me the house, but he won't give me the restaurant and it's my restaurant."
"It's okay. We'll push back. We'll figure it out. Look at me." She meets my eyes, wiping her tears. "He won't win."
Lee pulls at Sloane's arm. "Can you hold him with me?" she asks, heading towards the iguana.
Sloane halts when she sees it, her body going rigid and her face paling. "Uh," she splutters, already retreating.
"Sloane doesn't like lizards, baby," Grace tells her.
"It's not a lizard. It's an iguana. He won't hurt you, Steph. Please, I'll hold him with you. You don't have to be afraid."
"I am not afraid."
She lifts her chin, perks up, and goes with Irelee. Her heart is already pounding with her fear. I shake my head as I watch from beside the stroller. "Watch her scream in 3..." the guy puts the iguana on her shoulder and she stiffens instantly. "2..." She gives him a side eye and he gives her back one. "1..."
"Alright. Get him off, thank you. He's looking at me." She says in a panic. Grace begins to laugh. "Honestly, get him off. He's looking—Oh my God!" he makes eye contact with her again and she makes to run. Run from something on her own shoulder! I crack up then. The iguana seems scared and attempts to jump off her shoulder. She screams at the movement. The guy reaches for him, removing him, but his claw is stuck in her hair and she screams at that too. She dashes behind Sierra when she's free, her face burning with embarrassment.
I see Grace almost on the ground, weak with her laughter. Sloane glares at her, glares at me, at everyone but I refuse to swallow my laugh this time. I didn't send her to do it.
Lee tries with the iguana and she enjoys it. A phone call cuts my admiring short. I remove it from my pocket and press it to my ears.
"You've been looking for me, Agent LaRue and you've been very persistent about it. Since you are so interested in me, you've sparked my interest in you."
The call ends and the phone rings again.
I answer. "Victor."
"I have a proposal for you. You have... Special abilities. You could be an asset to me—"
"How?" I motion for Sierra to watch the twins as I step away. Putting the phone on speaker, I move it from my ear, working quickly to trace the call as I try to keep him on the phone as long as possible.
"I know you want out of the FBI. That's something I can give you, your freedom back."
"At what cost?"
The phone goes dead again. Shit!
When it rings, I answer and begin to trace it all over again. "As I said. I think we can work together. I've seen your skills; your work ethics and I love how you operate. I don't think the FBI credits you enough or appreciates your full potential. You can be great, a force to be reckoned with, and they know that. They don't want that. Let me ask you, how long have you been working with the Bureau?"
My fingers stop moving as I just stare at the phone. The call was still being tracked but something in his question struck a nerve. "Since you were nineteen, right? Pulled up at your college door as if you were under arrest. Told you you'd be under arrest if you didn't accept the job. Now they hold you prisoner by a contract that states you must work under the Federal Bureau of Investigations for the rest of your life until either you die, get injured on the job, or retire and we both know they will not let you retire alive."
My chest tightens. He doesn't think I know who I work for? And under what conditions? I don't need to be reminded of that. I'll cross that bridge when I get there. For now, I just want to live my life. "What do you want, Victor?"
"The FBI has something I need. Help me get it back and I'll help you get your freedom."
"Are you talking about the ship? Because I'll have to pass. Do you have any idea how many underage girls' lives you've ruined?"
The tracker beeped, giving me a location, and I mentally rejoiced, forwarding it to Harvey.
"Tread carefully, Emilie." He growls. "I like you, but that can change very quickly. You have a beautiful family and your daughter means a lot to you—"
"If you ever touch my daughter, I will peel the flesh off your bones!" I hung up very angrily and walk back to the group. "Hey guys, we got to go."
Nobody fought me about it and I am thankful. "What happened?" Grace asks me as we walked through the front door.
"Victor called," I tell her, going to sit on the couch with the baby. They all come to huddle around me.
"Who's Victor?" Steph asks.
"Yeah?" Amelia joins in.
"A suspect from this case I'm working. We had a rise in murder cases over the last few months. All females, all young girls, but the murder weapon still can't be identified and we couldn't find a murderer until now."
"But you didn't find him, he found you. What did he want?" Sierra is just concerned. Her worries are palpable.
"He wants me to join him?" I say with a small laugh. "Listen, all of you." My eyes find Sierra. "I always want your trackers online and on you. Sierra, I want your trackers on you."
Her face flushed with her embarrassment. "Okay."
"Not beside you, Sierra, on you." Grace reiterated.
"Yes! I got it. Jesus!"
"Steph," My eyes find her bare fingers. "Where's your ring?"
She looks down at her fingers as if just realising it's missing. "Oh, uh," she reaches into her shirt and pulls out her necklace. The ring dangles off it. "I take it off when I'm scrubbing in. I didn't want it to get lost."
"That's fine. Just—"
"I'm not letting you put that thing on me. We're not dogs." Sierra growls.
What the hell?!?!?!
I look around, and we're in some sort of top security building. Men in uniforms, armed with weapons, lined the halls. We're currently in a hallway, preparing to enter a room. When I look back, there's a closed door. One that obviously required passcode to get through. I face forward again to see a man holding up three collars, but I know those aren't any collars. Those on Egralon are like handcuffs. Put them on and your abilities are useless. Non-existent. Where'd he get these?
Victor just smiles. "Well, if you don't put this on, I'll take you as a threat and you'll never see your daughter again. The choice is yours." He holds up the three collars to us.
I glare at them. Sierra glares at them. Grace glares at them, but she is the first to take it from his hand, closing it around her neck. "Done. Take me to her." She says, calmly. Too calmly.
Victor clicks his tongue, looking at me and Sierra. "I still have two left."
I grit my teeth and yank the collar from his hand, aggressively closing it around my neck. Sierra's clank shut and I look back at Victor. He nods and leads us away from the hallway full of men. A metal door with a glass window stands in our way. Victor punches in some keys, swipes a card and we watch the door slide open.
In a single line, we follow him inside the room. It was small and white. What is it with these people and white? My eyes scan the room before I could stop myself, noting the fourteen men that lined the walls. Victor is on the opposite side of the room already, bringing Irelee into view.
"Mommy!"
Grace stiffens. My heart skip a beat. Sierra steps forward, but one of the men behind us stops her. Victor speaks. "Ramone, cuff them. I don't want you three to get any ideas. Try anything and that collar around your neck will paralyse you and inhibit your abilities."
Wait paralyse? It's not supposed to do that.
No. Oriane confirms.
He pauses and when he speaks again, his voice is cold. "Try anything and your daughter is dead."
We simultaneously tense, all six of our hands forming fists behind our backs where they are shackled. We are all cooperative until the moment we see our daughter in the clutches of that man.
Grace's heart beats wildly as she stares nonchalantly, but I know she is scared, raging, just like the rest of us. I could feel her wrath. Her wicked eyes meet and lock with my flaming ones, her jaws clenching and unclenching a series of times.
"Using a child as leverage. That's a cowardly act." Sierra snarled, her voice venomous.
Victor laughs, and it makes my ears hurt. I hope his tongue dissects itself from his mouth to lodge in his windpipe. I hope he gags on it and vomits and it drowns him. "It's an insurance policy." He says grimly. "You hold up your end of the bargain and the child goes free. Unharmed."
"We have no bargain." Grace snaps.
Victor turns his black eyes to me. "Do we have a bargain, Emilie?"
I glare at him, avoiding the eyes of my wives. "You do not scare me, Victor. Using my family against me, my children—"
"You know, Emilie," he starts in that condescending tone I've heard from a particular brunette who stars in my nightmares. Gosh, he sounds so much like her. "You could be powerful. A force to be reckoned with. You could bring this entire world to its knees and make them bow to you, but you choose to be weak. Pathetic—"
I roll my eyes. "Name calling is so preschool. If you have something to say, say it with your chest—"
He comes up to me, his black eyes holding mine. He reeks of tobacco and cigarettes.
He grips my chin with his hand, challenging my gaze. "You're pathetic!" He spits in my face. The incoming attack forces my eyes to close as it lands right under my left eye, nestled next to the bridge of my nose. I try not to flinch. Not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, but I couldn't control the shudder of disgust that ripple through me. My jaws clench with my hatred. My skin crawled as the fluid slowly, torturously slow, began to creep down my cheek. I would give anything to shed my skin and toss it like a piece of dirty laundry at this moment. But instead of that, I open my eyes and continue to glare at him.
"Family makes you weak, моя дорогая королева." (My dear Queen.)
I swallow my wrath, though it was itching to be unleashed. It burns on the inside like flaming lava inside a volcano and the pressure is just building and building every second that this man is in my face. Every second that he threatens my kid, my wives. At least Steph isn't here. But where the hell is she? I turn to Grace, the question in my eyes.
"Home with the twins." She confirms in a whisper so low no one should be able to hear it.
I draw a deep, slow, calming breath that didn't calm me whatsoever, and gave him a bored look. "You could never persuade me, Victor. If you've never heard about loyalty, then here's your definition. This is what it looks like—"
"—sad–"
"–I will never betray my family or my country and I will never betray myself. I will not help you and if you want to live, I suggest you release my daughter swiftly. I'm very, very pissed off and, like you said, I'm a force to be reckoned with. You don't want to see me lash out."
He flinches a little at my tone, his hand slipping away from my face, but as he turns and walks back to my daughter, his posture remains menacing.
"No!" Grace screams at him. "No!"
Sierra and I share a confused look, but it was cut short as I see my dark-haired wife bring her shackled hands over her head, then with one powerful movement, break the chains that restricted her. Her head snaps up to Victor, her eyes glowing green with her fury.
Oh fuck! She's mad. She's really mad!
A few guards grab at her but she is as swift as I remember, catching the first one by his forearm and twisting it until it was broken in at least six different places, then swiftly snaps his neck.
I stare in shock at her before finally snapping back to reality and as the guard who secured my arms head towards her, I retaliate, sending a powerful kick to the side of his head. He collides with a wall before splatting to the ground. I swing at the other one, who attacks behind me. Sierra didn't have to move an inch. She just needed to see us make the first move before she inevitably had our backs. With the flicker of her eyes, the rifles the men carried are snatched from their hands and are pointing back at them.
For a second, Victor looks terrified.
"Come to mommy, baby!" Grace coaxes as she casually flings the lifeless body of a man whose eyes she just ripped out to the floor.
The man who's holding my daughter re-enforces his hold. I glare at him, taking a few steps over. Sierra presses one of the guns against the reddening skin of his forehead.
"Let. Her. Go!" I order in my Royal tone. I've never used it on a human before. Wasn't even sure if it would work but it seems to. He starts trembling in his shoes, a streak of dampness soiling the black trousers he wore. His arm loosens around her neck before falling away.
"Come here, babe." Sierra coaxes. "Gracie, take her."
But as Irelee makes a step forward, Victor reaches out and grabs her. We were threading lightly because of this thing on our necks. We were trying not to make any rash decisions, especially since that is around Lee's neck too. But now, I think I'm done holding back. Within the blink of an eye, the guns go off and all 14 men are on the ground. The guns all surround Victor's head in a circle and Sierra is in front of him in a flash. She grabs Lee while Grace and I are already charging at him in attacks. Just as quickly as we reacted, I felt an endless number of pricks from the collar around my neck, the jolts of it sending me to the floor with shrieks. My head spun and my vision blurs while I twist in pain. I hear the guns crash to the floor as Sierra and Grace's shrieks mix with my own.
"Did you really think I would let you three in here with all that power? You just took out all of my men in less than a minute. Shackled. I don't know if I should be terrified or impressed."
"You better fucking run!" I growl.
He shrugs me off. "Pathetic. Look at you. You can't even move, so why should I be afraid of you?"
I chuckle at him, my glare cold. "Your neurotoxin will wear off soon, Victor."
"By then, your daughter will already be dead." But as he said that, more men pile in. "I told you not to try anything, didn't I? Look what you made me do! Now you, all of you, are going to see how truly evil I can be. Emilie, I hope you enjoy this the most and I hope you know it's all your fault!"
I could only lift my head a little, but it was enough to see him drag my daughter behind another door and shut it. Through the glass door, I can see him shove her towards a cot at the back of the room. She cowers in the corner of the bed as he goes over to lick the side of my daughter's face.
"NO!"
I hear Grace's shout and then the pleading cries of my daughter as she calls for us. "Mom! Mommy!" She makes a sob that breaks my heart. "Mama, Mama!"
It takes all my strength to lift my head. The pain of the collar still paralyzes me, my head feels like it weighs ten tons. It burns and the fire never lets up.
"Mommy!" she cries once more. Hopeful, begging.
"I'm coming, baby." Grace grunts, struggling to her feet. How? What the fuck? "Don't fucking touch my daughter!"
"She's a child, you sick, twisted fuck!" Sierra spat at him. But he isn't moved. He is now pinning her to the bed, his giant body hovering over her.
The men in the room lift their rifles, aiming at Grace, but that didn't stop her advances.
"Stop!" One of them yells. It is admirable, really, but my love only flashes him one of her killer smirks. It is beyond me where she finds the strength as if we aren't wearing the same collar that is paralyzing us from the neck down.
She grabs the man closest to her, her fist colliding with his chest before he could pull the trigger. When she withdrew her hand, it was bloody and held a heart that was still beating. She moves quickly around the room and it's hard to follow her. Blood and bullets are everywhere. I see only three men left in the room and they are scared shitless. The one closest to her takes his aim and fires while the other two try to shield the door Victor went through, their guns aim and ready.
Grace holds a hand up to stop the bullet, but it burrowed into her flesh, making a long streak of blood run down her forearm. She folds over in pain, a pain I feel just as much as she did. Just by witnessing it. I turn my head away, my eyes closing to rid myself of the image. I couldn't feel my arms or legs even if I try. And I tried. Tried to get up. To help. Something.
"Gracie!" Sierra's voice holds her shock, her worry. Fear.
It is maddening. This is torture. My wives on the floor in pain. My daughter is scared and is being threatened in the worse way possible by a monster, screaming out for me but I couldn't do anything!
The man teases the trigger again, ready to fire another bullet at Grace as she stands.
"Stop!" I shout and for a second, the room is still.
Victor has my daughter's leggings off and that knowledge makes me sick. My heart is bleeding inside my chest. My throat aches and even though I feel like crying, I will not let this man see how much he is destroying me. Swallowing my pain, I look at Sierra. She has tears rolling down her face. The tears I was determined to not set free. "I can't do anything," she says in defeat. "Emilie, I'm sorry."
I knew that much. None of our abilities is working because of this damn thing around our necks. "Don't do anything," I tell her. My eyes find Victor again. "Take me instead." I hear myself say.
One of my fingers starts to move, to my relief. It is just small twitches, but it is something compared to the complete paralysis mere minutes ago. The development gives me hope and I focus hard to move my arm next, a foot. Anything. "I can handle it." I continue to tell the gruff-looking man in his forties. "She's a baby."
He laughs, the sound sounding like rumbles from the deepest pits of hell. "Now Emilie," his amusing eyes found me. "What makes you think I want you?"
My fist clenches. Yes Emilie, keep moving. "She's a baby! I can offer you much more than she can."
"Pick one of us," Sierra added.
"Anyone of us." Grace backs. "But please, don't touch my daughter."
God, I love them so much.
It was a very discussed rule. Especially after Angie and the twins. No matter what, we save the kids. We give them a chance, having already gotten ours.
Victor glances over his shoulder, as if contemplating the offer, his eyes roaming over us. A leg starts moving and I slowly begin to pull myself up against the wall. I look at Sierra and her hands are moving, slowly and carefully slipping out of her shackles. My eyes find Victor again.
"As lovely as that is, none of you have what I want." He turns back to my daughter and his hand run down her body, edging towards the waist of her leggings.
"Victor, you fucking—!"
Grace charges at him with a growl. My scream cut off as she grabs the man who shot her and drops him to the ground. Her foot sinks into the crease of his neck with enough force that separates his head from his body. Blood seeps out onto the floor and pools quickly. The light of life fades from his brown eyes but it isn't a grievous sight.
A series of shots are fired at Grace from the men by the door. The bullets seem to whistle through the air in slow motion, my scream reverberates out of my throat painfully slow, mixing with Sierra's, as the red-hot spinning metal tastes her skin. My heart stops the second the first one touches her. The sound in the room fades into muffles. My body stills, frozen as my lungs refuse to breathe. The force of the bullet as it hit her sends her stumbling back. Another follows, then another and another. Each of them weakens her more as they burrow into her chest. I must've counted ten before she falls to her knees, her gaze falling to her chest to inspect the damage.
But the damage is already done.
"Gracie!" My heart finally started again after what felt like a thousand years, but my voice didn't sound like my own. Dead. Lifeless.
She turns to look at me. A cough threatened to choke her, making blood spew from her mouth. I will myself to stand, but it doesn't work and as I pull myself up, I fall to the ground again. Painfully, I slither to her, her falling body crashing into me. I bring our faces together, aware that I'm bending in a position that isn't at all-natural to me. It would be for her. It would feel natural to Grace. She's the flexible one. "Gracie, look at me," I beg. My voice is weak. Fragile.
She brings her eyes up to meet mine, wheezing. Already I can tell she is drowning in her own blood. Her eyelids dip, terrifying me. "Grace! Don't you dare close your eyes!"
A cough and more blood spew from her lips, tainting them red like some sinful glass of wine. Her paling hand finds my face and she strokes my cheek, weakly. A tear slithers from her eye as they flutter open again. "S-save our baby—" she gasps and I can tell you that that gasp, I never ever want to hear it. Never.
I search her eyes, but they are dimming. "Grace?"
"Burn this pla–"
"No! No. Graciela?"
"Gracie!" Sierra appears over us, pulling Grace into her free arms. She cups her face as Grace releases one last gasp. "No! Fuck!" she yells. "How do I get this thing off?" She tries to peer the collar off because then, Grace could probably heal but she barely touches it before a round of bullets are fired from the door we came through.
Her blue eyes were shining as she turned to face them. Three more men enter the room, their rifles aimed at us. The bullets stop mere inches away from Sierra's face, then they are going back the way they came. They burrow themselves into two of the men's chests. The third one watches them fall to the ground before raising his gun. I only feel the whisk of cold air before I see another body crashing to the ground. She's still in front of me, holding Grace as if she hasn't moved but I know she went over there to snap his neck. I heard it all happen.
She reaches for Grace's collar again but hers shocks her a second time then the men guarding the door are opening fire at her.
"No!"
At this point, nothing feels real. This is a dream. This has got to be a dream. There is no way. No fucking way I'm losing them all. Like this? I resist the urge to laugh as a numbing feeling seeped into the pit of my stomach. When is it that the camera crew is going to come out? When do they all jump from the ceiling, from the floor and say 'Psych bitch! It's a prank?'
My eyes stay glued to her limp body, noting how she still holds Grace. Aww, I almost say. They are so cute. They are both limp. Lifeless. My chest constricts painfully, as my eyes well with tears. This is not real. Something in the back of my mind is telling me it is, but I can't believe it. I can't lose them. I can't—
The ground I lay against, I couldn't feel it anymore. I feel nothing but the heat of my own rage, burning like hot lava, ready to erupt. It is powerful enough to take me over and I let it burn away any resistance I have left. Any empathy. Any humanity. My vision flashes a soft shade of amber as I rise to my feet.
The shackles that oppressed me fall from my hands as I pull them apart. The pieces of metal fly about and collide with things. With a throaty growl, I'm at one of the men's throats, my fist smashing his head into the wall. Tiny chips of concrete separate and fall to the ground but his head stays stuck into the wall, nestled into a dent caused by the force of my strength. His brain and blood stain the white paint, looking something like an artwork worth a million dollars. The last man fires at me and I watch the bullets whistle towards my face.
I feel no fear as I stare at them and as they are inches away from my face, I snatch them from the air with one quick swipe. The metal, still hot, burns my palm as I play around with them in my hand. The man looked at me as if I'm the devil. At this moment, I am their devil indeed. For hurting my family, there will be hell to pay. With a menacing smile, I toss the bullets back at him. They soar threw the air at the same speed as if fired from a gun, one landing in each of his eyes, pinning him to the wall, and the other, in his crotch.
A cry of agony steals my attention. The pain in her voice, telling... No! My heart collides with my chest haphazardly, my breath faltering on its way from my lungs. I plunge forward, tears pricking my eyes and my body shuddering with rage and fear at the same time.
My spear appears in my hand and with a quick upward swipe, the glass door is broken and I'm in there. The four men in the room aim at me. Their bullets fly into the walls as I teleport before them, my spear deep inside each of their guts one after the other. My head snaps to the cot, my spear disappearing as I go over there. I grab Victor by his neck with both hands. He didn't see me coming, nor did he care. His monstrous being scornfully, repulsively pressed to my little girl. The composure I manage to keep this whole time finally slips and I'm sobbing silently as I pull at him. A casual movement that didn't feel like it took any strength at all from me. I didn't feel like I had any strength at all in me. Yet somehow, his head detaches from his body, his spine along with it like some sort of a bony tail.
My eyes find my daughter as I toss it to the ground, scrutinizing her. Accessing the damage. Praying, hoping. I fall to my knees before her. She's laying frozen on the bed, bare. Naked. Her legs parted. A tinge of blood—
"No! God please, no!" I lean over to touch her with shaking hands but she flinched away from me, shrieking in agony. Breaking my already broken heart. My eyes blur with tears and for the first time in my life, I don't know what to do. I don't have any answers. I don't know how to solve this. Gracie is going to kill me. I had one job. Choose the kids first. I didn't. I wasted time pining over them. That ten seconds. That ten seconds was all it took to ruin my daughter's life forever.
I choke on a sob, drawing my hand back from her. My stomach twisted and a wave of nausea hit me. I turn away, retching over the bloody spinal cord. The blood along with my own panic threatened to knock me unconscious but I needed to be here. She needed me now more than ever. "Lee? It's Mama." The tears that fall from my eyes didn't slide down my cheek. They make a pitter-patter that sounded loud in the dead silence of the room as they crash against the ground. "Irelee?"
She didn't move. She just laid there with her eyes close, fists clenched at her sides and streaks of tears falling from her eyes. I reach for her again but I hesitate, not wanting to cause any further trauma. "B-baby, can I touch you?"
She unclenched one of her fists and offer her hand to me in the simplest movement. My heart squeezes me as I take it and hold it between my own. My body shuddered with pain, anger.
"You said you'd protect me, Mama." Her little voice comes to me barely above a whisper. But it cuts me as if it is knives lashing against my flesh. I wince as she continues. "You said you wouldn't let anybody hurt me. You lied–"
My throat ached. The heavy painful feeling in my chest worsens until I can't breathe anymore. The nauseous feeling is back. The repulsion. The disbelief. The anger, the pain. The panic. The grief. I'm overwhelmed. My brain feels like it's short-circuiting and still, I force myself to stay focused. To push everything else aside. "Irelee I'm—"
"You lied!" A fresh stream of tears flowed and she opened her electric green eyes to look at me. Only, they weren't so electric anymore. They were dull, hopeless. She is a baby. Her eyes are supposed to be full of hope and dreams and happiness. She isn't supposed to look like this, feel like this. This was never supposed to happen.
"I'm sorry," I tell her truthfully, but I know my words mean nothing to her right now. Or maybe they're just the things she needs to hear? I don't know. I don't know what to do. I need Grace. I need Sierra.
They're still in the same place I left them moments ago. I leave Irelee's side, going up to them. With free hands, I grab Grace's collar and snapped it in two, watching it crumble to the ground. I did the same with Sierra's and then my own. Immediately as it fell from my neck, I start to feel Lee and my heart breaks all over again. I reach for her collar and remove it as gently as I can, hoping she can feel how sorry I am. Hoping she'll know I never meant to hurt her. Hoping she knows I still love her and will always love her. "I'm sorry, princess," I tell her again. "I'm so, so sorry I couldn't keep you safe. Please, can I hold you?"
She nods. Without sparing a second, I pull her into my arms, whisking her off the ground. Gently. She winces against me but I soothe her, holding her close to my chest and rocking her. She whimpers in pain but she kept her arms around my neck. I keep one arm around her as I continue to rock her. I reach for her leggings but it is torn. Her underwear is torn and dirty. The sight of them makes me want to vomit again and the sprang of pain in my chest intensifies.
I swallow the pain, shrugging off my jacket and wrapping it around her almost like a blanket. "It's okay, baby. You're going to be okay." I soothe, watching my wives, waiting for them to come back to me. I couldn't feel them and the more time went by, the more I feel as if I'm sinking away into nothingness.
I swear to God if you two don't wake up!
Another tear falls from my eye, landing on my forearm. I hold Irelee tighter, hoping. Begging. Praying.
"Mommy's not waking up." Lee notices. "They're dead, Mama."
I shake my head. My eyes closed to rid myself of that image. That reality because that couldn't be our reality. This must be a dream. "They're not dead," I whisper, my voice fragile and weak. "They can't be dead. They promised me forever." My heart bleeds inside my chest as I said again. "They promised..."
"Emilie!"
I blink at the snap of a finger before my eyes. Grace's face comes back to me, hovering inches away from mine with concern clouding her eyes. She's holding the baby I was just holding, patting his back softly.
"Earth to Emilie." I blink again, drawing a slow breath. "What did you see?"
I gulp, dragging my eyes around the room. I'm home, in my house, and Grace is here. She's alive. No blood, no bullets. Lee is on the couch on her iPad, Max beside her and they're perfectly fine. She's perfectly fine. Where are Sierra and Jaylin?
"Sierra!" Grace calls for me.
"Upstairs!" she calls back.
"Come down."
She was beside Grace in the blink of an eye. The speed of her arrival whisked my hair across my back. She scrutinises my face upon arrival, her features growing wary. "Did something happen?"
I sigh, relieved. "Jaylin's fine?"
She nods. "Yeah, he's taking a nap. What'd I miss?" She looks between me and Grace for answers.
"She had another premonition," Grace offers, her eyes not leaving mine the entire time.
Sierra stiffens. "Well, what the hell did you feel this time?"
"I didn't just feel it. I saw it. Like a vision and I was there. We all were and then—" I shudder at the memory, meeting their eyes. I look at Sloane and she looks worried and confused. Taking her hand, I pull her into me but it's her who wraps her arms around my shoulder to hug me against her. Sierra takes the next spot next to me and joins us.
My eyes meet Grace's and it's clear. Without a word spoken, we know what to do. Everything to protect that little girl at all costs. We take her to and back from school ourselves, no comp team. Hell, no gymnastics. Straight home from school and with one of us always.