God.
My heart aches for this woman.
I can hear the pain in her voice as she tells her story.
“I wasn’t going to give up my baby, I told him so. Then I found out I was having twins. Terrified, I knew I couldn’t care for both of them. I was struggling as it was, and without any support from him, I was not going to be able to give them a good life. I told him I wanted money, help, or I would tell people about our affair. It wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever said, but, again, I was young, and I was scared.”
I can only imagine.
“He told me to get an abortion, to get rid of them and the problem would be solved. I refused to do that, and one day, I went and confronted your mother about our affair. I told her everything. The worst part for me was, she was the kindest, most gentle soul I’d ever met, and I knew that she was as trapped as I was. Of course, she was devastated. Days later, your father came to me with a deal. He would take one of the babies and raise him with his family, I would take the other and he would give me some money, but I was never to contact him again.”
God, this just gets worse.
“At first, I refused. No way was I giving up my baby, but as time went on, I began to struggle. I had some health concerns, and I had no money. I couldn’t raise two babies—I would barely afford one. I told him I would take the deal. Your momma wasn’t too keen on the idea at first, she didn’t want to raise my baby, but I went to see her one day, and I told her that I needed her to do it, for me.”
“And she did,” I say softly.
Marcella nods with a smile. “She did. She agreed and when my sons were born, one of them was whisked out of my life and I was paid out. I moved away and that was the last time I ever saw my son. Occasionally, your momma would send me a picture. It was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life, but having Romeo here with me, that made things so much easier.”
God.
This is a lot.
A lot to process.
A lot to understand.
“Thank you, for telling me all of that,” I say, my voice tired.
“Doesn’t really explain why your son is now seekin’ her out after all these years,” Cohen says, his voice incredibly respectful, but firm.
Marcella looks to him. “He didn’t know the truth until he was older, and by then, she was gone, and we thought she had passed. He looked into it for years, and finally we got word she wasn’t dead. We came right away.”
I mean, it makes sense.
Cohen nods, accepting her answer, his face still tight.
“My son,” Marcella asks me, her face full of hurt and suppressed emotions I imagine she has long ago smothered down. “Was he a good man?”
No.
He wasn’t.
But I can hardly tell her that. It will break her heart, and that’s the last thing I want to do. Romeo, who is standing behind her, meets my eyes and slowly shakes his head. He doesn’t want me to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to feed her full of lies either. So, I give her the best parts of him that I can remember over the years. There weren’t many, but when he was younger, before my father changed him, we did get along.
“He was protective,” I begin. “He had a wicked sense of humor and was always pulling pranks on me, but he took care of me if I needed it. He was strong and a hard worker.”
She smiles, but it trembles.
My god I feel like my heart is being torn from my chest.
“When he died ... was it painless for him?”
Cohen stiffens beside me, knowing full well it wasn’t painless. She doesn’t need to know that, either. All she needs to know is her son passed and is in a better place. That’s all any mom needs to know.
“He went quickly,” I tell her.
She nods, pressing her hands together tightly.
“We should go, it is getting late and we have a lot to process,” Cohen says, standing. “Thank you for your time, ma’am.”
Marcella nods and stands. I do so, too.
She walks over to me and gives me a hug, the kind of hug I didn’t realize I had longed for, for so long. The kind of hug a mother gives her child, full of warmth and kindness. I close my eyes and take a moment to let that hug wash over me, to let the feelings break free and consume my body.
“My son,” Marcella whispers to me. “He is a good man. You can trust him. He was raised in a home full of love and good values, he will cause you no harm.”
I believe her.
I truly do.
So, where do I go from here?
“DO WE RISK TAKIN’ THE deal? It’ll get a big problem off our backs, allow Aviana to be safe again, and we can focus on getting Samson’s daughter, finishing that and gettin’ the hell out of here.”
Alarick speaks, sitting with his back against the chair, legs spread apart, arms crossed. He’s in my motel room with Cohen and me, and I’m trying very hard to stay away. The night has finally caught up with me and I’m exhausted. I want to go to sleep, but know it’s important we discuss this, too.
“I think we take the deal,” Cohen says, his voice tired, too.
I look to him. “You do?”
He nods. “Yeah, I do. I think he’s tellin’ the truth. That business is far over your head, and if he’s willin’ to give you a cut of it, I think it’s
