Page 17 of Trig

“If you ever come at me like that again, you better be sure you can kill me. I will not allow a little Vegas alley rat like you to misbehave in my home again.”

“Give me that knife. I’ll be more than glad to finish the job,” I mumble.

He grabs my face and lifts it.

“You’re out of control. You deserve punishment. It will teach you obedience. I will not be gentle.” He stares at the two big guys on either side of me. “Bend her over this table.”

“What? No!” I scream. “Stop!”

I start to fight against the men, while pushing and pulling as hard as I can, but it’s useless. These two big gorillas throw me onto the table and hold me there while pinning my arms down. I’m still fighting with my legs until I feel a gun to the back of my head. I surrender as my shoes, pants, and panties are stripped off and tossed aside. With one hand, Carmen grabs my hair and violently yanks it back. I gasp. He then aggressively slams my face back down onto the table and holds me there. I cry out in pain. For a quick second, the impact feels like he may have broken my jaw, but then the discomfort slowly subsides. Just as I think this moment is going to turn for the worst, I see the side door open and a blonde woman walks in. I pray that maybe she’ll help me, but instead, she briefly looks down at me in pure disgust before she speaks to Carmen.

“I went through her belongings. This little bitch is pregnant. She has a bunch of OB/GYN appointments and a baby's due date on her phone’s calendar. Wiretap also mentions pregnancy. She can’t make money for us if she gets fat. I told Vega to mention it to you before your men went all hostile takeover out there. Guess that slipped through the cracks, huh?”

The two men release my arms and step aside. Carmen looks at them, disappointed, and then roughly pulls me up and spins me around.

“Are you pregnant?”

I stand there, head down and hunched over, half-naked, trying to hold on to what dignity I have left. I refuse to answer.

He backhands me again.

“Answer me!”

I slowly nod as I hold my hand up to my cheek in an attempt to take away the sting,

“Take her away. Get rid of it.”

As soon as I hear those words, I react. I will protect my unborn kid at any cost. I throw my fist as hard as I can into his smug face and then I back up into the dining room table and shield my stomach with my hands. His men quickly grab my arms and hold me in place as anger immediately fills Carmen’s face. Carmen takes a step forward, hauls his arm back, and then with a mighty punch he delivers a hard blow to my stomach. So hard my knees give out. I cry out in pain as his men struggle to stand me up. I let my head hang low as tears well up in my eyes. With the air knocked straight out of me, I begin to gasp for air in what feels like an eternity. The pain continues to course through me like a freight train.

“Make sure that baby is dead. If that didn’t do it, finish the job. Make her suffer. I’ll be watching.”

I begin to weep as they drag me out like I’m just heavy garbage on trash day. They pull me down a long hallway and into a side room with a black door. Once inside, the two men tie my wrists together with a thick rope and then they place my arms above my head and hang me on a hook that drops down from the ceiling. They say nothing this entire time and leave when they're done hanging me up like I’m butcher meat. I stand there, pained, with eyes closed, trying not to vomit, finding a will to live but also wishing to die. The sound of high heels clacking against the floor brings me back into the moment. I open my eyes, raise my chin, and watch as the familiar woman from the other room struts in. The first thing I notice is how much she resembles Carmen. They have the same devilish eyes and scowl. Her body frame is petite but her fierce face makes up for her tiny build. She stares at me with disdain while walking in circles around me. At some point, she stops dead in front of me, fluffs her blond hair, wipes her lipstick off the corners of her mouth, and then cocks her neck to the side.

“There is a lot of pressure put on women. I see you crying for something that doesn’t even exist in the world yet and I have to ask myself, why? Do you like giving up your time? Losing yourself in the process. What does it feel like to give everything to someone else and know that this little leech will never appreciate it?”

I look away.

“Kids are ungrateful fuckers, aren’t they? I’m going to help you the way I wish someone would have helped me. You belong to us now and that means there is no time for others.”

“Don’t do this, please. You don’t have to.”

“Oh, honey. It’s already been done.”

I see her look down at the floor, and reactively, my eyes follow her gaze. A puddle of blood gathers at my feet.

“No. No. No,” I sob.

“I’m just doing what needs to be done. Making sure we take away the things that consume you.”

There it is. That word consume. That is Trig’s brother’s thing. That is our thing. How much do these people know about us? I raise my head as she lifts my shirt. Her fingertips graze the tattoo on my side. She smirks.

“Out of everyone, Trig chose you, huh? I don’t see it, to be honest.”

She swiftly takes her elbow and rams it into my rib. I howl, as my body instinctively attempts to shrivel into a protective ball. Instead, the ropes on my wrist pull, burning the fibers into my skin.

“Sounds like you want him. Are you jealous?” I grunt out.

She walks in front of me, stops, and then composes herself. She looks dead at me, licks her lips, and smiles. I watch as she rolls her neck around and then she swiftly pulls her leg up and delivers a hard kick to my stomach. I cry out and then fall forward as sharp pains shoot up from my abdomen to my chest. The feeling causes me to writhe below the ropes that once again burn my wrists. My skin is now soaked in sweat as a gush of blood runs down my legs and I know it’s over. I know that my baby is gone. I scream in agony as my entire body folds and I just hang there like a jacket on a coat rack.

---