Page 19 of Trig

I slightly turn my head to notice the red dye on the white pillowcase. I begin to shake in anger. He smiles and then he picks up a mirror and shows me the tattoo of a snake about two inches long on the side of my neck. Jesus fucking Christ. My baby is dead. Mya and Trig are nowhere. I’m marked like cattle, and my hair is dyed fucking red like old times. I stay silent.

“You’re mine, Nine. I marked you. I own you. Despite that, I will give you exactly what you want. That familiar feeling. You want total control and that’s not going to happen with me, but I’ll give you control over your customers. Play with them. Fuck with their heads. Mess with their hearts. Do as you please in that arena, but you will obey me, and in doing so, you are going to make me a lot of money, sweetheart.

I close my eyes, hoping this all goes away. My nerves are racing around in my body. I can feel them building up into an anxiety attack. I need Trig to calm me down. I need him to hold me while he places my hand on his chest. I need to hear his heartbeat and breathe into it. I try to mentally and verbally replicate the sensation I would feel touching him.

“Boom-Boom. Boom-Boom. Boom-Boom,” I mumble.

Mya. Trig. The baby. Fuck! The baby is dead. What if they're all dead? Oh my God! Just breathe. You can do this.

“Boom-Boom. Boom-Boom. Boom-Boom,” I mumble again. “Breathe in…out.”

My hands and legs are shaking as I remember what happened. I flash open my eyes as Carmen reaches out to touch me. I grunt and flinch, which makes him stop in his tracks.

“Do you know you and Trig are a legend in Vegas? Every major criminal in the world has been talking about the new Bonnie and Clyde. The twisted story of a hitman and a hooker that fell in love, killed everyone, and then ran away to start a family. You two are like every dark fairytale I have ever longed to read…except…I get to alter the ending to your story.”

“Do you ever shut up or do you just like listening to yourself? Where’s my daughter?”

Carmen shoots me a half grin.

“I can see why you make Trig weak. There is sex in your eyes. Fire on your tongue and this delicateness to your soul.” He leans down into me. His nose and lips uncomfortably touch the skin of my neck. He inhales, taking a good whiff. “And I want it. I want to extinguish the flames within you until you are begging me to save you, until you have empty soulless eyes. Until you are nothing but ash.”

“I won’t beg. You want my flame? You better work for it,” I grit out.

He stares deep into my eyes, puts his hand on my stomach, and gives an academy award-winning sigh.

“What were you going to name it?” he asks. “Just curious.”

It? Fucking it! I’ll murder him once I get out of these handcuffs. I look away to remind myself to toughen up. These are mind games. I start to imagine all the things he’d done to Trig and how stupid I was to leave our house in anger that day. Why did I get in that car and speed off with Mya? Where was I even going? To save Tyler, the island womanizer. I’ll admit. I got tired of seeing that guy use and abuse the local women. If I was to make up a lie about anyone, it was going to be him. I was willing to make him collateral damage for my pride. I was angry and hurt and instead of actually listening to Trig, I let my jealousy and insecurities get the best of me. I lied to him. Tyler was never over that night. Truth is…I thought about drinking a bottle of wine to calm my pain, but instead, I poured it down the bathroom sink. I slid down the wall in our bedroom and placed that bottle on the floor next to me, and it was in that very spot where I sat crying for over an hour, wondering whose bed he was in. In reality, he was doing contracts.

I want to go home. Kiss him. Tell him I lied. I want to scream that I am a fool. In this scenario, we’d hug it out and go about our lives. We’d raise Mya and the baby that I was carrying, and we’d grow old, and like we always do, we’d fuck and fight. We’d have ten grandkids, and with our genes, they’d be amazing at everything they do.

“Losses. They happen a lot. Consider what I did a favor here. Take a second to imagine bringing another baby into your world. You two are criminals. You’re damaged, and that’s okay for this industry, but roses don’t bloom from ashes.”

“You don’t know shit about us.” I turn my head and stare at the wall again.

“Sweetheart. I know all about you. I’ve done my research,” he scoffs. “You’re just a broken girl from a trailer park who discovered her body is a fucking gold mine. You’re a survivor at all costs, and you found a way through the mud, and I truly admire that. There is nothing wrong with selling yourself for advancement. Men worshiped you in Vegas, as they should, but you messed up. You fell for Trig and you lost focus. Just look at you now. You’re weak, lost, and confused. I am going to help you. I will make you remember who you are. You are forbidden fruit…and trust me, the men out there will all want to taste it once I get the word out. People know who you are. They’ll want to lick the dynamite that is you.” He pauses. “Look at me,” he commands.

I slowly turn my head back to him.

“You and I both know you’re better than this.” He waves his hand up and down at my body. “Why be a photographer or soccer mom when you can be a goddess.”

“I’d rather die,” I spit out.

Carmen sighs again.

“Do you know why male lions kill cubs that aren’t theirs?” He pauses. “To start a generation that is.”

He slides one hand up my thigh and then grabs my throat with his other hand. He leans into my ear as I fight back tears.

“There it is. That flame. I see it starting to ignite and I’ve barely even started on you.”

He moves his face just inches away from mine, leans in, and then kisses my lips. I rebel by opening my mouth and biting down on his bottom lip which causes a stream of blood to pour down his chin onto me.

“Stupid bitch,” he yells, as he punches me dead in my left eye. I writhe in my cuffs and cry out in pain. He stands up, holding his mouth, and squints his eyes at me. “You’re going to regret doing that.”

Carmen storms out and slams the door closed. I can feel his blood running down my face and his physical pain makes me internally happy but only for a few seconds. My stomach begins to cramp and my neck burns from the tattoo. The pain and pressure around my eye kick in and it’s at this moment that I start to sob as reality hits. I keep silently praying for Trig to show up and save me. I want him to rush in and make things better like he always does, but he may not even be alive. My tears flow hard thinking about that. Five minutes or more pass before Carmen marches Mya in, gripping her by the back of her neck.

“Tell Mommy goodbye. Tell her where you’re going.”

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