taintedpromises

[taintedpromises]

A Life Worth Forgetting

— Part 2 —

I am the monster that you created.

“She could’ve lived.” He spoke like the death of someone was amusing somehow.

“The old you would’ve known better, she wouldn’t have been so careless.”

My jaw muscles flexed from clenching my teeth, my irritation rising. That’s been the common phrase around this mansion, ‘the old you’ this ‘the old you’ that. I’m not her anymore, I don’t even know who that person was and I’m sick of hearing it.

The man sat behind a solid oak desk that lacked any clutter, only a laptop and lamp took up residence on the smooth surface. His greying raven hair is slicked back in its usual look, his thin lips pursed together as his sharp blue eyes studied me.

I’ve been held captive for over three months in a fancy room connected to its own bathing chamber and dining area, I was sought after and fed like a queen after the interrogations they had me undergo just to be sure I truly had no memories of the past. By interrogations, I mean torture for two weeks.

My bones are now fully healed and I knew he’d call me into his office to inform me that I’d be participating in the training. There were others he had here that he’s had in the mansion for years, training. I still wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but I wasn’t about to ask questions. I found that every time I asked too much, I would go without food or water for a couple days. There was nothing like the hunger pangs. I needed to keep my strength up, I had plans to kill and being weak wasn’t an option.

Pushing away from the dark blue velvet armchair, I turn towards the giant wooden double doors. The heels that were waiting for me on the dining table, along with the little black dress I now wore, clicked with every step against the hardwood floors. My fingers grab ahold of the handle before I hear his voice again.

“Welcome back to the family, Luce.”

My spine straightened at the name, nobody has told me what my name was before the accident. Turning my head just enough to see him from my peripheral, I respond.

“Luce is dead.” My words dripped with pure hatred.

The last thing I heard prior to closing the door behind me was, “I’m counting on that.” followed by a low chuckle.

I refuse to go by that name, I don’t know her. Tequila isn’t your normal name, I’m aware, but it is the last thing I have that is mine. It may not be perfect, but it’s mine.

I learned a few things during my stay here. One: The one in charge is my father.

Two: He hates me because I remind him of my mother that died giving birth to me.

Three: If I don’t get out of here, he will force me to do something I’ll hate myself for.

I was shocked to find out that my mother is dead, not that I would be able to remember her anyway. It made me wonder, had my father always been like this?

I walked the marble halls of the mansion until I reached my prison of a bedroom, threw myself on the downy bed, and cried until sleep overcame me.

He killed Helen.

———————————————————————

———Two Years Later———

The world was built on nightmares

disguised as dreams.

The taste of blood on my tongue made my nose scrunch in disgust. I must have bit my cheek while sleeping again. My eyes slowly opened to adjust to the light pouring into my bedroom from the large windows that had a clear view overlooking central park.

This was the third hotel I’ve stayed at in the last three months with the money I swiped from the safe that is nestled behind my father’s desk. I never stayed in one place for too long. I’ve been on the run ever since I escaped my father, the leader of a tightly strung group of hitmen.

I don’t believe he’s hunting me, he knows I’ll go to him when I’m ready. That isn’t stopping some of his lackeys from trying to put me in my place. Every time one of them crosses my path, I have to change cities. Can’t stay in the area where a dead man is found. New York City made it easier to blend in, maybe I’ll stay.

My father knew the risks of training me. Although most of my memories remain hidden from myself, I remembered enough to escape from the clutches of that mansion that held me captive for two years.

I’m not sure how old I truly am, but as I gaze in the mirror, my burnt orange hair unruly from sleep, I’d say I were about twenty-eight.

My father’s attempt at ending my life failed, but with his failure came the loss of my memories. To my father, that was like handing a painter a blank canvas. I was something for him to mold, to make into a masterpiece.

The interrogations he had me undergo will forever be burned into my brain. The memory of those two weeks haunt me in my sleep. The torture lasted two weeks, I thought I was going to die in that room, until my father walked in. His presence made the room seem smaller, his emotionless eyes scanned the work of his men, his gaze was unnerving. He seemed like he was staring into you, at your soul, right to your center.

One of the servants was at work cleaning my wounds from the last round of interrogation. My father stood there, watching, waiting. When the woman was done, she scurried from the room after gathering all of her supplies. I stayed slumped against the chair, peeking through my blood soaked hair up at him. His face, expressionless.

He regarded me the way one would regard a pig they were looking to purchase for butcher. “Do you remember your name?”

He picks a piece of lint from the right shoulder of his black suit coat while he paced in front of me awaiting an answer.

“No.” It hurt to breathe. I was sure I had a broken rib or two.

He stopped and before I could blink, he was kneeling before me with his face inches from my own, eyes blazing with a deep hidden rage. He grabbed my face between his fingers, squeezing my bruised cheeks until it hurt. My scabbed lip opened, blood slowly trickled into my mouth.

“No, sir.” He corrected.

“No, sir.” I repeat, though it was hard to talk with him holding my face so tightly.

It took every ounce of self control to stop the tears from spilling. My body was in pain from the brass knuckled beating I took the day before, but I wouldn’t cry, not in front of him.

Satisfied, he lets my face go, he was close enough for me to smell the mix of coffee and cigarette smoke on his breath. “Do you remember my name?”

My heart rate kicked up, and I felt like I would vomit. “No, sir.”

“Good.” He stroked his chin in thought, his eyes staring into mine. I refused to look away, to show him any sign of weakness.

He straightened back into a standing position, going back to pacing the small room. “Training starts when your bones are healed.”

I thought that was all he had to say as he turned to leave, but when he was halfway through the door, he turned back to me and the hairs on the back of my neck raised. “Don’t disappoint me again.”

My muscles remembered what my mind couldn’t. The more I trained, the more my body remembered. Training required a lot of mental work along with physical and because of my petite size, I had to use people’s weight against them. It was easy considering how my opponents always seemed to underestimate me. That was exactly how I escaped, everyone underestimated me, thought me weak.

My father once said that I got my looks from my mother, but my way of thinking was all him. It made my skin crawl as much then as it does now because he was right. No matter how much I hate that man, I had a lot in common with him. The difference, I don’t enjoy killing.

Everyday I’ve had to look over my shoulder waiting for someone to jump out of the shadows and attack, even though it’s only happened twice. I can’t risk letting my guard down, I refuse to end up in my father’s clutches again.

“Luce.” I hear my father’s voice call out. “Luce, your mother is dead because of you.”

No! I want to shout but my voice is gone.

“Your fiancé died because you were too weak.” My father’s voice continued.

No, no, no! I tried to escape his voice, but it was no use.

“Everyone you will ever love is going to die because of you, Luce.” My fathers voice sounded almost amused.

“YOU’RE ALONE.”

I awoke with a start, sweat coating me and the covers. Another restless night, the days blurred together. Helen, James, my mother, all dead because of me.

“You’re a weapon, and weapons don’t weep.” I repeated those words until I knew the tears wouldn’t spill. I can show no weakness.

My mother died giving birth to me, James was my fiancé and he died trying to save me, Helen died because my father found her number in my pocket after I was kidnapped outside the hospital. They haunt my dreams every night and in the waking hours, I had to hide. Paranoia made every stranger that lingered too long a potential threat.

I can’t get close to anyone in fear that any connection to me will result in their death. Until I’m free, there is no life for me.

I may have escaped, but this is hardly living. I’m the shell of a woman. I have to kill my father, if I don’t, the fear that is so tightly wound into my being won’t ever ease, I’ll never be free, and I’ll always be alone.

“Anyone can start again

Not through love, but through revenge

Through the fire, we’re born again.

Peace by vengeance brings the end.”

———————————————————————

[taintedpromises]

A Life Worth Forgetting.

—Part 1—

Maybe it was fate or maybe it was a sick case of bad luck. I’m going with the latter.

The first thing I notice is the shooting pain enveloping my entire body, even my head pounded in time with my heartbeat. I couldn’t move, every attempt sent another burst of blinding pain. My eyelids flutter, hesitant at first afraid those too will hurt, opening to a bright white. Blinded for a few moments, my eyes bleary, I blink rapidly trying desperately to see past the blur. I felt a swell of panic rise in my throat threatening to release in a scream. I couldn’t move and my eyes were taking to long to adjust to the sudden bright, pain encased my body, and I had no idea where the hell I was.

My sick mind went straight to abduction, I was being tortured. Tears sprang to my eyes blurring everything that much more. I saw a shadow to my left, I flinch and immediately regret the movement. A goan of pure pain slid past my lips. The shadow clucked at me as if I were a child to be chastised. Anger at this shadow bubbled mixing with the fear that has gripped me. My thoughts raced, how could I possibly get out of here, I couldn’t think of anything, I couldn’t move, escape right now would be impossible.

My panicked mind began to slow as did my breathing and heart rate, my eyes fell closed, the light fading behind closed lids. A warmth spread through me making my body tingle, pain forgotten. All thoughts of the shadow figure dissipated with every wave of warm bliss. The lull of sleep tugged at my consciousness, and I didn’t fight it.

I didn’t dream as I slept.

Trying to think was like walking through thick mud; slow. Finally my eyes open and they were rudely met with bright white. Squinting until my eyes adjusted, the lights dulled with the passing seconds. Where am I? Scanning the simple room, a tv hung from the ceiling in the corner, checkered white and blue linoleum flooring, white paint, and another bed on the other side of some medical equipment.

I’m in a hospital. That realization sent a wave of aches and pains, as if my body needed time to register everything. My brows knit together in confusion, there was pain there too, bearable though.

Took me a moment to realize there was someone in the bed next to mine. The bed angled upward putting the old woman into a sitting position, her leg in a white sling hanging from a metal bar. She had something in her hands, silver, her eyes keep darting to the door until she notices me staring. The woman with yellow tinted skin and a bright red painting her cheeks. Her eyes crinkle heavy with the smile she dons, lines mar her face harshly. Her eyes a beautiful contrast to her weathered face, bright blue with a hint of equally bright green.

“Tequila?” Confusion swept over me. Tequila? Is that, my name? Her voice sounded like she had a mouthful of syrup, hard to understand.

“Um,” my voice caught in my throat from disuse. Quickly clearing it with swift embarrassment, heat rising to my face. “Yes?”

It sounded like a question and it was. If that was my name, I had no recollection of it. Before the woman can reply or react, a nurse walks in. She was too busy looking at her watch to notice the old woman tucking the silver canister under her covers. My confusion began to frustrate me. Everything was so damn confusing. Why am I here?

Looking down at my body, I’m stunned, my body is bandaged from head to toe. My left leg rests in a cast and hangs from a sling of its own, as well as my left arm. My right leg is wrapped with white bandage from the top of my thigh down to my knee, my ankle nestled into a half cast being held in place by more bandaging. My right arm is riddled with cuts and bruises. I didn’t want to know what I looked like under the hospital gown. What the hell happened to me?

I felt a sob working it’s way up my throat, I swallowed it back. I looked to the nurse with pleading eyes, not trusting my voice. Her eyes met mine and an easy smile softened her features, her black hair tied into a tight bun atop her head, dark brown eyes mixed with honey, full lips, cheekbones that look like cliffs, a jawline that could cut glass, and deep brown skin. She’s gorgeous. Her scrubs, standard blue, hugged her hips perfectly. I couldn’t help but openly stare with my mouth agape. Stunned into silence, my cheeks heating with mixture of embarrassment and diffidence.

“You’re awake.” Her voice was music, soft yet demanding.

My right hand starts fidgeting with the thin blanket. An old habit, I assume, not that I can remember. What shocked me most, I didn’t care to remember.

I watched her move to the end of my bed to check the folder at the end, I didn’t trust my voice, so I stayed silent, watching her with fascination.

“Are you in any pain?” Her voice carried concern as her eyes trailed my battered body causing an unnecessary heat to creep up my neck.

All I could do was nod, another shot of pain from the movement. Her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes were full of understanding.

“On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst pain of your life and one being not much at all, where is your pain level at?”

“Eight.” I croaked out. It sounded worse than expected. My throat burned from disuse.

She nodded knowingly causing the hair not tied back to bounce. She went to the cupboard, shuffled a few things around until she found what she needed. She came back with a small smile and a needle in hand filled with a clear liquid.

“This will help with the pain, you’ll be out of it for a while until it wears off.”

I nodded once as my approval. She injected the needle into my IV drip and then proceeded to check my bandages.

“Alright, if you need anything just press this button,” Using her index finger to point at the button hanging from the monitor. “and someone will come to check on you.”

I felt the morphine kicking in, everything started to fade as sleep overcame me.

———————————————————————

As the days passed by, nobody came to see me. With no identification, no phone, and no recollection of anyone in my life, there was nobody to call. I was alone. They called me, Jane Doe, I liked Tequila better. The woman that occupied the bed next to mine was released a day after I woke, I didn’t even get to say goodbye. It’s been two weeks, no visitors.

Absently flipping through the television channels while eating a donut snuck in by nurse Helen, the only nurse that mattered here. Every time she walked through the door my heart would start going haywire, it was embarrassing.

I had a crush on the women and it was deeply rooted in my chest threatening to rip my heart out. I couldn’t wait till I could walk again and ask her on a date, hoping she would see me in that light. A knock on the door jolted me from my daily day dreams.

Helen strode through in her blue uniform, her hair tucked back in that perfected bun of hers. My heart hammered in my chest, such easy beauty.

“There’s a visitor for you.” Her voice was high pitched, it sounded off. A look of disappointment flashed in her deep brown eyes that I could easily get lost in.

A tall man walked through the door behind her, scruff peppered his sharp jaw, his nose looked like it had been broken a few times before, dark circles below his black eyes indicating lack of sleep. He had on a worn brown leather jacket, plain black T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and dark brown leather work boots. His thick black brows were furrowed as he studied me, the mop of black curls atop his head bounced with every step. Who the hell is this guy?

“I’m going to give you two some privacy.” Helen’s usual chipper voice was quiet as she spoke, her eyes held a sadness I hadn’t seen since I’ve met her.

My eyes followed her out, I couldn’t ask her to stay.

“So, you’re still alive.” It wasn’t a question, more of an observation.

Irritation quickly became the face I held for this stranger. His had a stupid smirk that I wished I could rip off.

“Who are you?” I snapped back as my eyes narrowed at the man with deeply tanned skin and a face I wanted to punch.

“You don’t know?” His laugh was so abrupt that it made me flinch which in turn made him laugh harder. “Oh, this is just perfect.”

If he weren’t such an ass, I’d think him handsome. “Your tone implies I should give a shit about who you are,” I gesture with my good hand down at myself. “as you can see, I don’t.”

I may not remember anything before the hospital, but I damn sure wasn’t going to allow someone from my past to treat me like this. The way he looked at me was as if he wished I had died in that accident. I was put on suicide watch when I came in, when they found out I lost my memories, nobody cared to keep a close eye on me any longer. Apparently, I jumped in front of a bus on the freeway.

I have no memory of it.

His boots thudded against the linoleum flooring as he moved closer to my bed. “Don’t you recognize your fiancé when you see him?” The smile that now pulled at his lips was anything but kind.

I was stunned into silence.

“Consider this visit our breakup of sorts, I can’t be bothered with winning back your love.” His smile faded before turning his back to me. “Don’t come looking for me or anyone else you used to know, it would be best if you skipped town as soon as you’re out of this place.” Was my life really so pathetic that I had once been in love with a man like this?

“What’s your name?” I blurted before he was out of the room.

He left without so much as a glance back in my direction. I was left confused and pissed off.

———————————————————————

The days passed in a blur of blue and white uniforms, testing, and physical training. It has been a struggle to walk again with the injuries my leg sustained. After another week in the hospital, I was released with nowhere to go, no money, and no way to get anywhere aside from walking, at least they gave me a crutch and a walking boot. The nurses tried to get me to stay and find someone, but I insisted and they couldn’t stop me.

The nurse at the front desk, Debi, told me that the police ran my finger prints with no luck as to who I am. With no phone or identification on me, there really wasn’t much they could do to help me figure anything out.

I was nobody.

Before I left, Helen wrote her number down on a piece of paper that is now folded and stuffed into my front jean pocket. She also gave me direction to a shelter that will take me in until I get on my feet. I needed a plan, starting with finding the man that called himself my fiancé.

Thanks to Helen, I won’t be left shivering from the cold, she gave me one of her coats and the scent that clung to it gave me a strange sense of comfort. I rounded the corner of the block, my mind filled with thoughts of her. A smile curved my lips as I inhaled her scent once more.

I heard footsteps approach behind me and before I had any time to react, I was blinded by something being pulled over my head.

Dropping my crutch, my elbow slams back connecting with something. Must’ve been good because I heard the man sling filthy words in my direction. I didn’t stop flailing causing pain to shoot throughout my body, but I wasn’t much of a fight when I couldn’t see and my body was still damaged from the accident.

I kicked and screamed despite the pain, but it was too late. I was tossed into the back of a van.

“Fuck you.” I spit out as I hit the metal floor of the van.

“Feisty.” One of the men whispered into my ear. “Even with your memory wiped clean, you’re still a little shit.” His arms wrapped around my middle and my back was pressed against his chest, his thighs tightened on my hips keeping me from moving anywhere. He squeezed me so tightly, it hurt.

I felt sick. Every part that was touching him made me feel nauseated. I was still blinded by the sack they pulled over my head.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Another man bit out before I could say anything. I could hear him move closer and broke the other man’s hold on me. “What is wrong with you, Alex?” All I heard was a loud ‘smack’. “Idiot.”

The man that was holding me, Alex, quickly shuffled away from me mumbling something unintelligible under his breath.

The other man’s voice sounded familiar and with the lack of memories I possessed, there could only be one person that fit. My fiancé.

Why was he protecting me? I thought he wanted me gone. He made it seem like I was nothing, a burden, like he wished I had died. Despite all of that, he was the one person here that seemed to care if I was harmed or not, so I decided he was the safer option to stay near. Without anymore hesitation, I slowly scooted across the metal floor to move closer to where I hoped he was seated.

I felt his warmth against my side before he spoke. “Stay quiet and wait for the right moment.” His breath was hot against my ear even through the blackened sack. “You aren’t dying on me again.” He whispered as his calloused fingertips brushed against my forearm.

“I’ll get you out.” That was the last thing I heard before I felt a sharp pain in the side of my head and felt warmth trickle from my scalp before true darkness closed in around me.

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