She grew up
with love but tragedy took everything away from her.
He was forced
into a life that he hated and was drowning in darkness.
They both
lost hope...
They both
looked for ways to numb the pain...
To him, she
was unpredictable and alluring.
To her, he
was a dark knight with a shady past.
What happened
next was unexpected. Their chance encounter was not chance anymore.
As their
worlds collide and their impenetrable walls are infiltrated, these two dark
souls are forced to face the one thing on earth that scares them the
most…
Love.
“Well, let’s go,” he ordered. I looked up to him, knowing
that I was giving myself away by the fear that took hold in my eyes. I got out
of the limousine, hoping that I wouldn’t lose my lunch on the ground. That
would be a sure sign of weakness in front of his men, and my father would
make me pay for it, dearly. We made our way into the abandoned warehouse. It
was dark except for the rays of sunlight sifting in through the broken glass at
the top of the building. The place smelt old and dusty. Remembering the stale
smell of urine in the hole caused my heart to hammer in my chest.
As we made our way further into the building there was a
group of young men sitting in a line on the floor with two of my father’s goons
sitting on chairs in front of them. The men looked like they must be only a
couple of years older than me. He clearly brought them here because they defied
him in some way, and he was going to show them what it meant to defy Maurice
Blanchard. We walked up to the group of men with our own entourage following in
the distance. My father’s men were heavily armed because there was always
another family or gang trying to get the power or connections my father had.
“So what do we have here?” my father asked. All the men
stood and looked straight ahead, careful not to make eye contact or any other
wrong move that would result in their death.
“They didn’t follow orders,” my father’s goon, Mauricio, cut
in with a twisted smile. “Their idiocy resulted in the Dubois sweeping in and
lifting five hundred grand.”
The Dubois family were rivals of the Blanchard’s, whatever
gains or whatever money my father made, the Dubois tried to slither their way
in and steal. Unfortunately the Blanchard family was also tailing the Dubois.
We had spies infiltrated in their organization, and when something big was
happening we always found a way to get a nice cut. Too bad for these men that
the Dubois swept in and stole a nice chunk of my father’s money. Money was very
important to my father. In fact, I think it was the most important thing in his
life. To take his money or be responsible for losing it was, to a normal
person, equivalent to killing their child. I now understood what I was doing
there and my blood simmered to a dangerous level under my skin. I had
threatened to walk away again, and my father was about to give me the ultimate
initiation into the organization. I had two choices. Do what my father said and
kill one or all of these men or get shot in the head myself. I knew which
option I needed to take, it was my only way out of this. A bullet between my
eyes and my misery was over.
“Okay Luc, you need practice and here it is. Practice
shooting and try to hit every single one of your targets.” He nodded his head
and urged me on. He was a sick, sick man. These were young guys. They probably
came from troubled homes or needed the money to get by and my father was paying
well. This wasn’t fair. I narrowed my eyes on my father, wanting to lift the revolver
and shoot him instead. For me, for my mother, and my brothers, our life had
turned into a living hell, and he was the demon at the root of it all. My
father saw my hesitation and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt. I was just
as tall as him and my body was strong, but I was still an adolescent and I had
not filled out yet compared to his bulky physique.
With his face a mere inch from mine he spat in my face. “You
will not shame me in front of my men. You will do as I say, or I will kill
those boys at home you call brothers.” My eyes turned wide and I thought my
father had completely lost his mind. Those boys, my brothers, were his sons.
Did we mean so little to him? Is that all we were, a means to an end? I knew my
father. I knew if he made the threat he would follow through. I already had a
picture in my mind that he would shoot them in front of me to teach me another
one of his infamous lessons. I faced the revolver at my first target. I closed
my eyes and opened them hoping at some point to wake up from this nightmare.
This was my reality and I was wide awake. I took a deep breath and prayed for
forgiveness before pulling the trigger. I shot the poor guy square in the
chest. He fell instantly to the ground. I once again felt the need to lose
the contents of my stomach, but I did everything in my power to stay standing
on my own two feet while I watched too much blood leave his body. If I fell
now, it would show weakness in the eyes of his men. After how I felt shooting
the first guy I didn’t know if I could go through with it again. My heart
turned cold.
Loud clapping pulled me out of my daze, I saw my father
smiling bright. He walked over and patted me on the back. “That’s my son. You
see this, men? It was his first shot and he killed him spot on. This is a
Blanchard.” The pride in my father’s voice was crystal clear and his men stood
around grinning. I feared having to do it again. I counted and there were nine
more men.
Then my father stood and glared at the nine men standing and
waiting for their lives to end. They looked pale and they were shaking just as
hard as me, only I was doing my damndest to hide it.
“You men better be careful the next time you are in charge,
or else, you will end up the same way as your friend did here. I am sure my son
will get you in between the eyes next time.”
I blew out a huff of air, I had the blood of one man on my
hands, but I didn’t know that I would have made it through nine more shootings.
My father smacked me on the back and I jolted forward. He then ordered his men
to take care of things. We entered the limousine and drove for a while, until
we stopped in front of a local strip joint he owned. I could barely walk as I
made my way inside, my legs felt like they would give out on me. He sensed my
unease, got me a drink, and asked one of his girls to show me a good time. I
thought I was going to be sick. I wanted to get home to my brothers and my
mother and make sure they were okay. I wanted to ensure that my father hadn’t
tricked me and ordered their death anyway. I also needed a shower because I
felt dirty after I killed that man.
My father never took me on another shooting mission again.
He said to leave the shootings for the goons that worked for him. He liked to
keep his hands clean, although I don’t know how he could think they were clean.
He wanted me to kill the guy to teach me a lesson. I wasn’t leaving. I would
never be free and I needed to face that fact.
My last year of high school I spent less and less time in
school and I didn’t graduate. I was stuck learning “the business.” I was lucky
when my father took notice of my superior computer skills and hired some famous
hacker to teach me the trade. It was for the benefit of the organization. I was
lucky that I became an asset for laundering international money transfers
because it meant no more taking me to beat up men or even worse, shoot them. In
my early twenties, I was responsible for transferring money, amounting to
hundreds of millions, without a trace.
This is my story, but my words are not proud. Every day I
lived with a burden put upon me by a man that I loathed. I lived with PTSD and
I had to hide it because the danger of being weak would result with a bullet to
my head. My father knew I wasn’t happy, my father knew I didn’t have what it
took to run the organization, but he didn’t care.
Henri, my middle brother, grew up and proved to be very
brutal. I honestly think he behaved that way to gain my father’s acceptance,
which meant the world to him. I didn’t understand it and I couldn’t accept
it. My mother got worse and worse over the years. I think it was the thought of
her sons being so cruel that sent her off to that dark place where she couldn’t
return. My family disintegrated in front of my eyes, and yet I only craved the
simple things.
I had women at my beck and call, but I wanted a woman to
love and cherish. Two things I knew my father didn’t know anything about and
would never let me have. The problem was like a fool I kept hoping…
R.C. Stephens
was born in Toronto, Canada. She graduated from York University with a Master’s
Degree in Political Science.
R.C. loves to write about ever lasting love and tortured
souls. As a fan of angst and drama she enjoys a good twist.
Her debut novel Bitter Sweet Love has been nominated for a
Darkest Romance award. Twisted Love book two of the Twisted Series will be
releasing May 31st.
R.C. is an avid reader, so when she isn’t cooking for her clan
or on her laptop writing, she’s snuggled tight with her Kindle devouring any
romance novel she can. Okay, with the exception of Thursday nights. She makes
time for Scandal and Vampire Diaries. She’s a fan of drama and suspense but
she’s also a sucker for a happy ending.
Her husband was her first teenage love. They live together
with their three children in Toronto. Loving Canadian winters she could never
think of living anywhere else.
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