Page 21 of Trig

“He owns me. I’m his property, and so is Mya. We all are now,” I say with no emotion. I turn my neck to show him the tattoo, but then I quickly begin to overheat. Sweat begins to coat my entire back and chest.

“Yes. Yes. There it is. Shit, you two are exhausting to me.”

Trig turns his head to look at Carmen. Venom in his eyes. Bared teeth.

“Triggie, look. I do what I do for us all. If I were you, I’d wipe that look off your feral face before I make Nine my personal bitch.”

I double over in my chair as my stomach cramps hit and then I cry out in pain. I fall sideways off of my seat to the floor and start dry heaving. Carmen walks over and feels my forehead.

“Get her some fucking help. You wanna take all this out on someone, take it out on me,” Trig yells.

“Trig, can’t you see? I already am. This is it. This is me taking it out on you.” Carmen turns his attention to me. “You’re burning up.” He pauses. “If you die on me, I will make Mya the biggest party favor this world has ever seen, so get back up on the chair or shit will get real fucking ugly. Get up!” he screams.

“Nine, get up. You got this, baby,” Trig coaches.

Against all the pain I’m feeling, I use the chair to help pull my weight up as Carmen grabs my other arm and throws me back into my seat. Carmen then makes his way around the table to Trig. He leans down and whispers in his ear.

“How does it feel to know that your woman, and your daughter will be working for me and that their hard work, the money they make, will go straight into my pocket?”

Trig takes a deep breath. “I feel nothing.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

Trig scoffs. “Because I’m going to kill you in the next few seconds.

Trig throws his head back and head-butts Carmen. Carmen falls to the floor in pain. His nose is most likely broken by the looks of it since blood is raining down his face. Trig roughly wiggles under his restraints and frees himself, throwing something sharp and shiny on the table. I look closer, and it’s a knife that he must have used to wear down the rope. He grabs a plate off the table and smashes it into Carmen’s face. Trig then grabs Carmen, throws him on top of the table, and starts bashing his face in. Blood is splattering everywhere. I make an attempt to stand up but fail and fall straight to the floor. My body is overheated, vision is blurred, but I can still hear the sound of two things. Trig’s voice, and the sweet sound of revenge. Trig’s fists continuously hitting Carmen over and over and over brings a barely-there yet wicked smile to my face.

“Sick motherfucker. I hope you burn in a thousand realms of hell, you bitch,” Trig says.

I lay there staring up at the ceiling, not knowing if I’ll die first or if Carmen will. My body growing weaker by the minute. I’m cold, clammy, and starting to shake profusely. There’s no sound of fist to bone rattling the room anymore. Just the sound of struggle and death approaching as I hear someone choking and fighting to take a breath. A few seconds pass by and the sound of a door opens. I hear a voice I’ll never forget. It's Carmen’s daughter, Natasha. She yells, and that sound causes a reaction in me. It jolts me from my daze. I turn my head toward her and watch as she barrels in toward Trig. From the floor, all I can see is several feet battling back and forth before Carmen falls with a thud and Natasha is sent flying into the wall.

Trig comes to my side, picks me up, and throws me over his shoulder.

“You still with me, baby? Nine?”

“Yeah,” I faintly utter.

“We’re finding Mya and getting out of here, honey. Just stay awake.”

Trig out of breath with me over his shoulder, runs out of the room and down the long hallway. I can hear gunshots firing behind us. Trig stops behind a door and places me on the floor. He pulls out a gun he must have stolen in the scuffle and starts to shoot back. I’m beyond weak. My eyes refuse to open.

“Shit! Nine, wake up!” he yells.

He picks me back up and starts to run again. He’s breathing hard and fast while cradling me close to his chest. He stops behind another door for a split second.

“This is not what I wanted for us.”

More bullets start to ring off which pushes me to pry my eyes open. Trig runs toward the window on this two-story level home.

“We have to jump if we want to make it out of here.”

“Stop!” Carmen yells.

Trig turns around with me still in his arms. My head falls sideways. Mya is standing there in pigtails in a little white dress next to Carmen, who is only recognizable by his blood-soaked clothes, his face destroyed by years of Trig's pent-up rage. He looks like something out of a horror movie. Bloody skin and broken bones hanging and poking out of places it shouldn’t. I have to open and close my eyes a few times to get a clear view of my daughter. I’m pretty sure I’m hallucinating at this point.

“Mya,” I whisper.

Trig looks down at me and then back at Mya.

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