Page 41 of Most Of All

A flutter of nerves dance in my stomach, a reminder of the weight of what is to come. These men and their demeanor echo the serious air that my father always carried. It strikes me now how distant I felt from those memories. The last meeting I attended was a lifetime ago. My father had deemed me a liability, convinced that my unfiltered nature might embarrass him in front of his associates. He longed for a compliant son, a puppet to pull strings, and I have never fit that mold.

Inhaling deeply, I try to steady my racing heart, before I step through the threshold. The door creaks softly, ushering me into a room that feels heavy with unspoken expectations.

Thesilencewrapsaroundme, amplifying my thoughts. That was a short and weird visit to say the least. What are they up to? Did they come here just to let little miss goodie two shoes stick a knife into me. Just when you think you’ve seen it all.

From time to time, I can hear noises from outside but that’s only one of the bull dog looking fuckers, he keeps gaping in here like I’m suddenly going to disappear. I wish I could, I’d be ‘poof’ gone.

Lost in a whirlpool of my own thoughts, I barely notice the door creaking open. Suddenly, one of the bull dogs saunter in, his stout frame moving with a surprisingly dignified grace. He holds a glass of fresh water in his hands, along with some strange roll that looks unappetizing. No, thank you.

He halts before me, his eyes scanning me with an intensity that lingers just a moment too long for my comfort. Is there a spark of attraction in his gaze? It certainly feels that way, as he inspects me with a curious gaze that sends a jolt through my mind.

A sudden idea flares to life. “You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” I say to him, aiming to sound sexy. Confusion covers his expression but his gaze doesn’t leave my chest. “Why don’t you come sit down beside me?” He’s unresponsive, but it’s clear he’s nervous, his Adam’s apple shows how deep his breathing is. “Come on… Just for five minutes, I have been in here all alone, it would be nice to have some company. Especially if it's someone as handsome as you,” I say, attempting not to gag on my words. He looks hesitant but slowly begins to edge toward me. “It’s not like I can go anywhere,” I add, shaking the chains. His face softens as he proceeds the rest of the way to the ground. Settling himself down beside me, his gaze is still fixed on my chest. “Tell me a bit about yourself.” I say glaring right at him.

I seriously regret the words as soon as they leave my mouth because this fucker doesn’t shut up. I attempt to look interested. I smile in all the right places and even laugh a little bit. It’s fucking hard work, but I’m certain it’s working. Slowly he leans in, curiosity glimmering in his eyes as he fires off questions about my past. I can tell they left some crucial details out when informing him about me, which works to my advantage. “It’s complicated,” I say, a hint of bitterness creeping into my voice.

Continuing on, he curiously asks for the reason I killed Grey. I attempt to shrug it off and explain that he was nothing but a scumbag. To my surprise, he nods in agreement, a spark of understanding flashing between us.

Unfortunately for me, he launches into a rambling monologue about Grey. I find my focus drifting, his words fading into a dull hum in the background. He seems undeterred by my lack of responses and I beam back at him when he meets my gaze. Time feels like it's stretching endlessly, ticking away painfully slow while I wait for this conversation to shift gears.

I’m over this shit, and my patience is wearing thin. I slide myself closer to him, trying my best to grind up against him, but these fucking chains make it hard. His breath catches and his face goes notably red when he realizes what’s happening. His nervous gaze locks with mine, while he presses his forehead against my own. Loudly, his breathing comes in fast as his cock hardens. Astonished and disgusted that it’s working, I don’t stop him as he slowly presses his lips against mine, instead I swallow my disgust because I have to do this, for freedom's sake. Reluctantly I kiss him back, parting my lips for him, as his tongue invades my mouth. To my utter disgust he lets out a growl, tightly gripping the back of my neck, as he pulls himself closer.

Feeling like I’ve endured enough, I break away and notice he’s actually panting, his cock now fully hard, a tent formed in his pants. “I need to touch you.” I whisper, “Just one hand, please.” I plead. He’s still out of breath, and for a moment I’m not convinced he will, but surprisingly he nods.

“Just one hand,” he repeats, reaching into his pocket for the key.

Promptly, he opens the lock, and roughly places the chain beside us, sliding the key back into his pocket. Wickedly, I glare at him, a wide grin covering my face. He places a gentle hand on my chest, leaning in, beginning to kiss his way upwards. It’s imperative I keep it going for a while longer, so I reach down and stroke his cock over his pants, he groans loudly. Intently, I keep to the same tempo because I need to catch him off guard. Regardless of my strength, he's a big boy, he could probably knock me out with one hit.

I place my hand on his back, as he kisses along my jawline. I see my chance, and without hesitation, I grab the chain, tugging it as silently as possible to position it between us. My goal is to keep his attention diverted just long enough. Reluctantly I lean in, kissing him deeply; he moans against my lips, momentarily lost in the moment. Silently to myself, I count to three, and on the third beat, I seize the chain and loop it around his neck. The grip isn’t strong enough at first, so I make a split-second decision to slam my head against his. The impact is jarring, but effective; though he doesn’t go down, it sends his head reeling backward just enough for me to tighten my hold. As hard as I can, I pull with every ounce of strength I can muster until his body goes limp. Exhausted, I release him, adrenaline pumping, and shove him aside.

My hands fumble to retrieve the key from his pocket. Time is now my enemy, and I swiftly work to free my hands and legs. Whatever strength I have left motivates me to move faster; I have no idea how long he’ll be unconscious. Finally, the chains drop away, and I check the keychain, relief washes over me when I see the key for the door is still attached. I creep the door open, unsure of who else might be in the building.

Once I confirm the coast is clear, I proceed cautiously. My heart races as I navigate the dimly lit hallway, straining to hear any sounds. A fire escape comes into view, and I can hardly believe how easy it is to push it open. Slipping through, I make sure to keep my movements deliberate and quiet; rushing now could cost me everything. Upon stepping outside, I gently pull the door closed behind me.

I check the keys once more, searching for a car key, and once again, fortune smiles upon me. I scan around me and notice a beat up van in the lot, this has to be my ticket to freedom. Without hesitation, I jump in, starting the ignition,

“Toodaloo, motherfuckers,” I yell out, as I hightail my ass out of there.

Itakeadeepbreath, pushing aside the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to overwhelm me. My thoughts drift back to the moments I shared with my mom, her laughter echoes in my mind. I sit on the edge of my dad's bed, and focus on his face. I can see the subtle rise and fall of his chest; it feels like a small glimmer of hope.

"You’ve got to fight, Dad," I whisper. "You can’t leave me too."

The weight of my words presses down on me, but I refuse to let despair consume me. I feel Linda's hand on my shoulder, her presence a comforting reminder that I’m not alone in this. I want to share more stories with my dad, to hear his advice, and to feel his unwavering support once again. Silently, I look at Linda, and we share a brief understanding. This isn't just about grief, it's about finding the strength to move forward, even when the world feels unbearably heavy.

With a renewed determination, I squeeze my dad's hand, willing him to awaken. The anger I feel toward Jack flickers, but it now also fuels a fire to become better, to carry my mom’s legacy forward as a source of strength. I want to transform my pain into purpose, not just for myself, but for my dad too.

“Come back to us, Dad,” I plead. “I need you.”

Linda's sharp gasp pulls me from the swirling thoughts in my mind, and I notice my dad's eyes flutter. Could it be? Is he waking up? Hope surges through me. “Dad, can you hear me?” I whisper, my voice catches as tears begin to spill down my cheeks. “Dad,” I call again, my heart racing.

He lets out a soft moan, faint yet unmistakable. I tenderly stroke his face. “I’m here, Dad,” I reassure him, my voice steady but filled with emotion. His eyes flutter once more before finally opening fully, and a wave of relief washes over me. But that relief soon changes to worry as I see the vacant look in his gaze. I glance over at Linda, my heart heavy with concern. “What’s happening to him?” I ask in a hushed tone, uncertainty creeping into my voice.

“I don’t know, love, but I’ll get the nurse,” she responds, her own worry evident as she leaves the room. Lovingly, I continue to stroke my dad's face, desperate for any sign of recognition. The blank stare is unnerving, making me feel as though his body is awake, yet his mind is lost. All I want to do is to reach him, to bring him back.

Linda returns with a nurse, who immediately begins to apologize for her absence, explaining that she was just taking a short break. I find it hard to focus on her words; my heart is racing, and my only concern right now is for my dad. I step aside to give the nurse space to do her work. She takes his vitals quietly, but her silence is unsettling. After a moment, she informs me that she will be getting a doctor, and then she leaves.

A wave of anxiety washes over me, something isn’t right, and deep down, I can sense it. It feels like all the air has been knocked out of my lungs. I’m struggling to understand what’s happening. Why wouldn’t she share anything with me? My breaths come in shallow gasps, and a tingling sensation begins to creep up my arms. I feel overwhelmed and helpless. Turning my gaze back to my dad, he appears unchanged, distant, as if he’s a million miles away. A surge of desperation wells up inside me, and I can't contain my frustration any longer. “Why is he like this?” I cry out. “What the fuck is the matter with him?” Linda rushes over to my side, attempting to get me to sit. I shove her away, “No…No…No…,” I scream, before my vision blurs, gradually fading.

I jolt awake, feeling droplets of water on my face. Confusion washes over me. “Raine, love,” a gentle voice calls to me.

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