Chapter 38: Chapter 38

Chapter 38 Executions

"Oh, the jacket..." I laugh awkwardly, "Yeah, about that...funny story, really. You're just going to love this, Ace. Wait till you hear this." Crap. Crap. Crap.

"Mhm." Ace says.

"I can explain."

"You better damn well."

Not like it matters now. I better just tell him.

I can tell by the look on his face that he thinks Jordan and I possibly did something. "Stop putting ideas in your head that didn't happen. Now, listen. Remember when you thought I betrayed you?"

"Of course."

"Well, during that time, my mom helped me escape from Lars. I was forced to live in the streets and hide from you, as I was afraid."

Ace looks guilty.

I tell him all the little details, from working with Pebble at the bar, to sleeping in a little box. I tell him about my lack of money, and how I was doing my best to save every penny. Finally, I get to the part when I made the mistake by leaving my drink alone in the presence of an unknown man.

"He did what?" Ace growls.

"He kinda....drugged me, but then-"

"DID HE DO IT?"

"Ace. wait-"

"THE FUCKER! I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!"

"No, you can't!"

"And why not?" Ace hisses, his face red with fury.

"Because.....Jordan already did."

"What?"

I take a deep breath. "Because Jordan already did. He was in the alley at the same time that night and he heard commotion so he rushed over there, shot the guy, and seeing that the man had....ripped my clothing off-"

"He did what?"

"Ripped my clothing off."

"I know, you just said that!" Ace seethes.

"Then....why would you say 'what?'"

"Because I'm shocked and furious right now, okay? Sorry, go on."

I nod and continue. "So, Jordan gave me his jacket and I passed out while h-he was carry-uh, while-"

"While what?" Ace pushes.

Oh screw it. "While he was carrying me."

"He carried you?"

"Yes."

"Jordan carried you?"

"Yes."

"My right hand man carried you." He states.

"Uh....yes? I don't see where this is going-"

"Someone other than me carried you."

Awkward silence, and I decide to break it. "Well, what did you want him to do? Leave me there lying on the ground alone?"

"No, no not at all. I just....I should have been there. I shouldn't have been so harsh. If I would have just listened then-"

"Ace, what's done is done. You can't change the past so there's no point in dwelling on the past. I'm okay and alive, and I wasn't raped that night."

Ace blows out air, defeated.

"So, any way, then we made a plan and.....wrote a letter."

"A letter?" Ace scoffs.

So, I tell him everything. What our plan was, where I stayed, and every little detail in between. He didn't even interrupt me once as I spoke, and nor did he seem angry. He seemed understanding.

And pissed.

Very very pissed.

"I wish you would have told me sooner and not keep something like that from me for so long. Were you ever going to tell me?"

"Yes." No.

Ace sighs. "I am, however, a bit proud of you for being smart enough to think through everything. It must've not been easy."

"Yeah, that time of my life sucked. But I'm here now with you, thankful to be alive." I reply.

"Likewise, Dakota, likewise."

"What has become of Lars and Luuk?" I ask.

"Oh, about them....they are still alive and I'm thinking about....ending them tomorrow."

Oh. "I do not need to see that." I've seen too many people die, I don't like watching people die even though some people may be my enemy. I just don't like it.

And with final words of departure, we flick out the lamp and enter our journey into the land of sleep.

* * *

Counselling.

My first counselling session is today, and I'm nervous. My leg bounces up and down in the waiting room, and my anxiety peaks.

I'm going it have o talk about uncomfortable things, and I'm not particularly looking forwards to it.

You can do it. You can do it.

Soon, a younger woman comes and escorts me to her room, where I take a seat on a nice, soft couch. The room is mainly a lighter color, with a large window located to the right that overlooks the city's streets. The therapist takes a seat across from me and smiles.

"Nice to meet you, Dakota, as you know my name is Miss Mae."

I nod my head in understanding, and the therapy session begins. "So how is your day going, Dakota?" She asks.

I take a deep breath. "Okay, I guess, I'm a bit stressed out at the moment."

"Oh, can you tell me why?" Miss Mae asks, clicking her pen ready.

Of course! My feared gang leader of a boyfriend just went to war with a Mafia leader, and now he has those responsible held in lock-up. Just a stressful situation.....

"Yeah, well....I've been stressed and worried that I-I'm holding my boyfriend back." I stammer, biting my lip.

"Care to exaggerate?" No. But I'm going to any way.

"Yeah....I'm afraid o-of sex," Awkward, awkward, awkward, "I just, I-I am afraid. I'm not afraid of Ace, I trust him. I'm afraid of myself. I'm afraid of my own mind. I still get flashbacks and nightmares of what I've been through and I'm afraid I will be hit with painful flashbacks. I know I will be hit with painful flashbacks, and I'm terrified."

My face is red. I'm antsy and my thumbs dance together in my lap.

She writes down on her notepad. Maybe she's writing down that I'm a drama queen, petty, or perhaps some kind of a wimp. No, she wouldn't do that, she's here to help. I tell myself.

"That's completely understandable and rational. Do you also feel like you're not in control of the situation and what's happening?"

I nod.

And so we build from there. Question after question follows, and I find that it feels as if a weight has been lifted off of my chest. Yes, it was uncomfortable to talk about. Yes, painful memories were brought back that day.

I learned about different triggers - words, actions, gestures, etc, that causes my discomfort and may be the roots of my flashbacks.

Miss Mae said that if I can identify my triggers, then I can take the steps needed to avoid them to possibly help improve my experience.

I found that whispering in my ear will set me off during sex. The memories of all those drunken bastards smelly breath against my ear makes my skin crawl.

I will be attending more sessions, I've learned a lot. I know my trauma won't ever go away completely, but I look forward to the day when it's nothing more than a painful memory that doesn't have control over my life any more.

* * *

"I have to show you a part of my mansion that I've never shown you before!" Exclaims Ace as he pulls me out of the kitchen away from food.

My fooood!

"Why haven't you shown it to me before?" I ask as he continues to drag me along, my bare feet slipping and sliding against the floor.

"Because it's special. It has many of my parent's things in it that I don't like to see as it brings back too many memories. And you are very special so I want to show you."

I blush.

Again.

Ace doesn't notice this time, as he's too busy tugging me along.

We travel down some stairs I never knew Ace had, and it opens into a large, nice room complete with a flat-screen TV, a mini kitchen, a fireplace, a nice couch, and a little outside patio area. The room is neatly decorated and painted a creme color.

"This is very nice!" I exclaim, letting my fingers softly trace over some cute decorative blown glass fawns sitting on the coffee table.

"Careful with those, those were my mom's little figurines. She liked blown glass, and she inherited those from my grandmother. They are old." Ace says.

Little figurines and old pictures is all Ace has left of his biological family, and he holds them dearly. He tells me more about his family, and I wish I could have met them. They seemed like good people.

"There's one more room." Ace says, winking.

By that reaction it has to be the bedroom.

"It's the bedroom, isn't it?"

"What gave it away?" Ace chuckles.

"Just the perverted wink and your tone of voice, that's all." I shrug.

And sure enough, it is. I give Ace a blank look.

"What?" He asks, surrendering and holding his hands up innocently.

I roll my eyes and turn my attention to the bedroom. It is, of course, very nice. It is large, and complete with a flat screen TV and a nice bed. Curtains are drawn over the window which no doubt has a good view of Ace's property.

My eyes sparkle when I see the bed again.

So.

Soft.

Looking.

I run to the bed, and jump on it. I land onto the squishy soft covers with a satisfying giggle as I roll around in bliss.

Real smooth, Dakota. Grow up.

My gaze turns to Ace, who stands there with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes sparkle and he smiles devilishly. "I've never seen you so excited to get into bed before, Dakota."

I gasp, covering my reddening face with a pillow.

"Shut up."

Ace chuckles.

Ace's POV:

I arise early that morning to finish the job.

Jordan stands in the lockup, waiting for me that morning. "Ready?" I ask.

"Never been more ready." He replies as he cocks his gun.

With a nod of agreement, I open up the cell, revealing both Lars and Luuk chained to the wall. They are shirtless, bloody, and beaten.

All is silent.

Their heads are bowed, their chins touching their chests. The dim light of the cell casts shadows on their features. Half of their face is concealed by the darkness.

The sound of my gun cocking breaks the silence.

Neither of them move.

"Any last words?" I ask, my voice low.

For a moment, neither of them speaks. I give them a few more seconds, casually checking my wrist watch for the time. When they still remain silent, I point my gun at Lar's heart.

"How did you do it?" Lars asks. Ah, so he speaks.

I raise an eyebrow. "Do what?"

"You should be dead. We blew up everything." He spits.

"Obviously, you didn't. You thought you did. I expected you to be smarter than this," I taunt, "I mean, all we did was hack into your security and listen in to when you were planning an attack. Dakota purposely let you capture her to make it look more convincing. We planned everything out to the very last detail."

He growls. His son remains quiet with his head bowed.

"While you were celebrating your victory, you were at your most vulnerable moment. So, we attacked and voila, here we are now!"

Neither of them speak up anymore.

They are defeated and they know they are facing their end.

"On your knees." I command them. They follow my orders without a word, and I first position myself behind Lars.

I press the cold barrel of the gun against the bag of his head, my finger on the trigger. After a few days of their torture, I am finally ending them. Their bodies wear the wounds of the hits that they took when I let my men attack them.

They have gotten what they deserve, and now they pay for their sins with death.

A single shot rings out through the air.

Lars slumps lifeless in his chains, his blood painting the wall and dripping a steady stream onto the ground below.

Luuk doesn't even move. He doesn't even flinch when he sees that his father is dead. He's emotionless. Void. Empty.

Luuk doesn't beg nor flinch when the barrel of my gun now touches the back of his head, the same way that it touched his father's head. He excepts his fate. He knows it.

A second shot rings out through the air.

Luuk slumps lifeless in his chains, his blood painting the wall and dripping a steady stream onto the ground below.

This father-son duo is dead.

It is over.

Tucking my gun back into my waistband, I take a deep breath and look at the bodies slumped at my feet. My enemies are dead. Lars and Luuk can't hurt us anymore.