Today was D-Day, and as I wiped the sweat from my forehead and grabbed the gear I’d need to brave the mines, me and the men shared a knowing look.
War was coming, and we sure as shit weren’t going to be waving no damn white flag.
Fuck Vlad and fuck everything he stood for.
“Here, a camera to capture this footage,” Graham said as he attached a tiny piece of equipment to the collar of my shirt. “And to keep an eye on you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m fucking pumped. It makes me wonder why we didn’t do this years ago.”
Archie smiled that fucking Murdoch smile that made me miss his son even more. “We had no reason to. But he took my boy from me.”
“Only Jaxon fucking Murdoch would fall in love with the enemy,” I laughed as Graham finished hooking me up with a camera and microphone.
Archie couldn’t help but chuckle before falling quiet once more. “Does Mindy know?”
Carter nodded. “Yeah, I told her. She’s cool.”
“Right, you’re all set. And remember: use the weapon if you have no other choice. These mines are old, only Christ knows how well the walls will take bullets hitting them, and I don’t want to be dragging your crushed ass from out of there.” Graham said, stepping back to observe me once more. “I suppose you’ll do.”
Graham gave Archie a curt nod and left us alone for a moment. Archibald stepped towards me and held my shoulders, dark Murdoch eyes bore into me, and for some unknown fucking reason, I felt my throat choking with emotion.
“Stick to the plan, son. There may be children down there, we don’t know how many there could be, but if it’s more than we could ever have imagined, then you call us for backup, you hear me?”
I nodded. “Sir.”
Archie looked over his shoulder towards Graham. “Camera and mic working, okay?”
Graham gave a thumbs up. “All set.”
“I know we’re big strong men, Carter, but I am so damn proud of you, son. I always have been and always will be. We all know you weren’t dealt the best hand, but you’re family, son, and no matter what happens, not just today but every day from now - I’ll always be here, and you’ll always have the love of myself and Nancy. Even Kendra.”
Fucker. I swallowed the lump in my throat, leaving it wedged in my chest. “Fuck, Arch, I’m going to rescue some babies and plant some explosives, not actually going to war.” I nudged him, feeling like laughing for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
For Amy and our baby, I was going to, potentially, save God knew how many little lives.
For Amy, and women like her, I was going to be a part of the bigger plan.
For Amy, I vowed to be the best man I could be.
“Let’s fucking do this.” I grinned, grabbing the heavy duffel bag filled with the bombs.
Archie smiled. “That’s my boy.”
Ella.
Every single part of me ached. But most of all, my heart yearned for Jax. In a windowless room, it was impossible to know when the day began and the night ended. I couldn’t even begin to fathom how long I’d been down here. Memories of a funeral, of Jaxon taking me as though I were the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid on eyes, hit me. It took me several moments before I realized these images were memories and not something my beaten mind had created.
Where is he? Where am I? I asked myself over and over.
I’d was strapped to a metal chair now, my wrists burned, and my legs were screaming at me to stand up, to walk once more, and I couldn’t, my naked body cold. Aside from sit there and cry, there wasn’t much else I could do. My mind flicked back and forth to thinking of my parents, their neglect and drug addiction, how cold the house always was, how I longed for my Daddy to love me. How I used to wish my Mama was snap out of her trance, eyes looking at something other than that TV screen, and realize that I was there.
I’d spent my entire childhood longing for love, and then came Vladimir.
Thirteen long years.
And last, but by no means least, Jaxon Murdoch.
A sob escaped my lips as I thought of him, as I thought of my darling child and how close I’d come to see her again.
Was this it? Is this where my life ended?
Everything hurt, and I couldn’t begin to make sense of Amy.
After making her dramatic entrance, she’d left me, walking from my prison arm in arm with Vladimir, his hand resting across her bump. It had been a strange sight, watching Vladimir relinquish all authority over me, he’d stood behind her and watched with potent lust in his eyes as Amy had demanded I sit in the chair and cooperate as she tied me up.
I wasn’t sure what was worse - the sitting and waiting in silence, or being surrounded by people who despised me.
The sound of a bolt moving and a lock clicking hushed the thoughts and had me sitting up straight, wincing as I inadvertently pulled against my restraints. My back was to the door, so I couldn’t see who was entering, but the click-clack of heels against concrete told me it was Amy. My heart sunk, and my earlier question answered - the silence and waiting was preferred.
“How are you, Ella?” Came her sickly sweet voice.
I shuddered. “Where am I?”
She laughed, stepping into my line of vision, scissors held in her right hand. “Let’s call it backstage, shall we?”
“What?” I half sobbed.
“I don’t know how much you know about me, and I’m sure anything you do know doesn’t come close to the truth of who I am, but I’ve always enjoyed a good show, Ella, and tonight, honey, Broadway is coming.” She stepped towards me, the fingers of her free hand reached out to stroke and pull on my red curls. “Such beautiful hair,” she said. “I’m surprised she didn’t inherit this.”
My heart stopped, slammed to a halt in my chest, almost throwing me forward. “Have you seen her?” I cried, moving my head from her evil touch. “Where is she? Where’s my daughter?”
“Who?” She smirked.
“My daughter.”
“What’s your daughter’s name?”
I gasped. Was this Amy? The woman I’d saw Carter break his heart over, the woman who had meant the world to Jax. The woman who, up until now, had been a sparkling star in a very dark night. I couldn’t connect the Amy before me, and the one Jaxon had described.
“I-I don’t know what her name is,” I said, slumping into the chair.
“I’ve seen more than you’ll ever realize, Ella.” Sighing, she stalked behind me, hand moving through my hair, and I couldn’t breathe. She opened and closed the scissors, and the penny dropped, clanging to the stone floor and echoing all around my brain.
“Please, don’t. Please just leave me alone.” My voice croaked, it sounded as pathetic as I looked.
She was stronger than she looked, her hand grabbing my throat and forcing my head back to look up into her green eyes I hadn’t expected. There was a sneer tugging at her perfectly plump lips, and she still looked beautiful. My neck felt as though it was one wrong move from snapping, so I stayed still, hands gripping the metal arms of the chair, bare chest heaving in terror.
“Let me get something straight right now, Ella, you listening?” Her golden hair hung either side of her face, brushing against my sweat-soaked and tear-stained cheeks. “This is my goddamn night, you are my goddamn prisoner, and I’m directing this goddamn show. So, if I want to cut these curls, then I will. If I want to fuck your husband, then I will. If I want to destroy you and break Jaxon fucking Murdoch’s heart, then I will.” She threw my head forward, and my lungs screamed, coughs tore through me, oh the pain. “Count yourself lucky I’m not slitting that pretty little throat yet.”