4

The room smelled like blood, sweat, and fear, and none of it was mine. The men stood around like grim-faced gargoyles, arms crossed, guns tucked into jackets that looked ill fitted but expensive. Ricky was still trying to hold onto his dignity.

The big man with the wicked smile leaned back against the wall, his eyes narrowed, mouth curled in a smirk. He was the kind of guy who looked at problems like they were puzzles he can’t be asked solving. So he shot them dead. He kept a bunch of goons for that. Ricky looked at him like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Her mother’s in my hands,” Ricky croaked, voice cracking like an old porcelain. “Take her. She won’t resist. She knows better than that.”

The big man raised a dark eyebrow, his face giving away not very much.

“Huh. Is that so?” he asked, almost politely. He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and I made sure to keep my expression blank and cold like the marble floor under my feet.

Ricky, emboldened by the lack of bullets in his direction, leaned forward. “Yeah. Her mother’s in the psych ward. Expensive place. Top-notch care. Costs a fortune. And guess who’s been footing the bill?” He grinned like he thought he’d just pulled off the scam of the century.

The big man made a thoughtful sound, looking me over like he was evaluating a thoroughbred before a race. “Interesting,” he murmured, and I couldn’t tell whether he was impressed or just disappointed in the human condition.

“Just take her,” Ricky continued, panting with relief. “She’s blind like a bat, obedient. She won’t give you trouble. And if she does, just threaten her mother. That’ll keep her in line.”

I wanted to kill him. Slowly. Inch by inch. I wanted to carve the smugness off his face with a dull knife and watch him try to patch it back together. But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Rick’s betrayal was thick and choking, like I’d been punched in the gut with a brick.

The big man’s eyes flicked back to me, and his mouth quirked up just enough to notice. “You’re saying your father’s favorite hostage material is his son’s blind ex-girlfriend?”

Ricky’s face went blank for a second.

“Yeah. I mean, she’s not really my girlfriend. Not like that.” He hesitated, like his brain had just caught up to the rest of the conversation. “But she’s valuable! You get what I mean.”

The big man gave him a slow nod, like he was placating a particularly stupid child.

“Sure. Makes a lot of sense.”

Then he stared at me again, and I couldn’t read his expression if you paid me in diamonds. “You have two hours to pack your stuff,” he said casually. “After that, you’re coming with me. Whether you like it or not.”

He pushed off the wall and nodded to his men, who dragged Ricky away like a sack of garbage. Ricky kept babbling about how it was a good deal, how his father would sort things out, how everything was going to be just fine.

As soon as the door clicked shut, my legs gave out. I crumpled to the floor, hands shaking, head spinning like someone had smacked me with a sledgehammer. I felt hollow—like every bone in my body had turned to paper and would crumble if anyone touched me.

I forced myself up, stumbling toward my mother’s room like a drunk on a sinking ship. The door creaked open, and there she was—sitting by the window, staring at something no one else could see. She looked peaceful, almost happy, and it cut through me like a jagged knife.

I swallowed hard and knelt beside her, brushing my hand over hers. “Mama,” I whispered. “It’s me, Leo.”

Her head turned, eyes unfocused, and she smiled. “Leo? Is your father coming? He promised he’d take me dancing.”

My chest tightened, and I forced a smile. “He’ll be here soon,” I said. “Just rest.”

She hummed a little tune under her breath, something soft and sweet from the old days. I wanted to scream at the universe, demand why it had taken everything from me, one piece at a time. My father, my mother’s sanity, my sight, my freedom—everything stripped away until all I had left was a handful of memories and a bitter aftertaste of betrayal.

I buried my face on her lap and cried. Big, ugly sobs racked my shoulders and hurt my throat. My mother just patted my hair, lost in whatever dream kept her in happier universe. I wished I could join her.

The door creaked open, and I froze, wiping my face with my sleeve. Ricky stood there, looking vaguely guilty, like he’d been caught cheating on a test. He tried to pull a sad smile, but it came off greasy.

“Hey,” he said softly, like he thought I’d appreciate the act. “I’m sorry it had to be this way. It’s not my fault, OK? I never meant to hurt you.”

I didn’t look at him. Just stayed on the floor, holding my mother’s hand.

“You know I care about you,” he continued, voice oozing. “But this is bigger than me. I’ll figure something out. I’ll come and get you as soon as it’s safe.”

I laughed, and it was a harsh, bitter sound that tasted like bile. “Don’t bother,” I said, voice as cold as I could make it. “At least you and your mistress don’t have to hide your randy voices anymore.”

The expression on his face was priceless—shock, then embarrassment, then rage.

“You knew?” he snapped, stepping forward like he meant to shake me. “You were spying on me?”

I looked straight at him, and whatever he saw in my eyes made him take a step back. “I don’t need to do a lot of spying to figure you’re a slimy bastard,” I whispered.

His face twisted like he’d been slapped. “You are ungrateful little bitch. I gave you everything. No other man would bother with you. You’re blind. Worthless. Just a broken doll with a pretty face.”

He sneered, leaning down until I could smell his cologne—cheap and underwhelming. “The only reason you’re not rotting in a gutter is because of my family!” He screamed.

My hand moved before my brain did, and the slap echoed off the walls. Rick froze, and I saw something dark bloom in his eyes. He grabbed my wrist, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “Have you regained your sight?”

I smirked, daring him to figure it out. “No. But it is not your concern any longer, remember?It wouldn’t change things. You are still a piece of shit.”

His fingers dug deeper, but before he could snap, the door swung open and one of the big guy’s goons walked in. “Time to go,” he said.

Ricky’s grip loosened, and he shot me one last glare. “Blind bitch. You’re nothing,” he muttered, stepping aside.

The man looked down at my mother, then back at me. “The boss has covered all of your Mothet’s medical expenses. She’s coming with us.”

Ricky’s mouth dropped open like a broken hinge. “What are you talking about?” he spluttered. “You can’t do that!”

The goon didn’t bother replying, just motioned for the medical team behind him to start prepping Mom for transfer. Ricky looked like his world had been shattered with a flick of the wrist. Funny enough, I felt a spark of satisfaction in the ashes of my life.

Then, as they moved my mother onto a gurney, she suddenly grabbed my arm, eyes wide with terror. “Don’t take me away from here,” she whispered. “I can’t leave! I can’t let him down.”

And just like that, the hollow pit inside me cracked wide open.