Page 6 of The Associate
I look at myself in the mirror.Man I look like fuckin’ shit.There are still a few blood splatters that speckle across my face and cheeks; the red is a stark contrast with the ice blue colour of my irises. A black eye is forming under my left eye. I don’t even remember getting hit. The bags under my eyes are getting blacker and my eyes are heavy.
Splashing water on my face, I try to clean up a little. What excuse can I come up with out there that would make this seem less weird? A fight broke out in the parking lot, maybe? Maybe not, as that would be less believable given how quiet it is.
The cold water brings me back to reality. I need sleep.
Walking back out into the bar, I look for Viv. She isn’t on the floor serving, not sitting at the booth I had been at a moment ago, and she isn’t near the bar. I guess she’s clocked off for the night; she was probably spooked at the sight of me but put on a brave face.
But now she is playing on my mind like a broken record and I have to know everything there is to know about her. I have a feeling I am going to be frequenting Gravel and Grit a lot more now that I know she is here.
Chapter 2
Genevieve
“You stupid fucking girl!” My father burst through the door of the apartment. “You thought you could seek protection from Blackmere and that I would never find you?”
My mother had sought protection from Rhys Marino, my uncle and Blackmere’s boss. He had moved us around from house to house every six months or so. He would tell Mother that Father was looking for us and every time he had come close, we moved.
My father storms closer to me, his eyes full of rage. This is the first time I have seen my father since we ran the night I was thirteen. I have nothing to say to him.
I have never seen him like this before. I just wish he would leave me alone. I don’t want to go back to the mansion. That’s not my life anymore, and it hasn’t been for a long time.
How did he even find me?
He is alone, a rare thing. My best guess is that he doesn’t want anyone to know that I even existed. He steps closer and stands over the top of me as I cower on the couch. The slap across my face stings and a tear runs down my cheek. “You will never be out of my sight again!” he spits at me.
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I bite back, finally finding my voice, as choked up as I may be. “I have a job and college and I have a fucking life away from you!”
The next slap echoes through the room, the sting lasting on my cheek. I can tell that it’s going to bruise. “Don’t you dare talk to me that way, young lady. You are still my daughter and you will do as I say. Your mother is finally dead, along with your protector.”
No,surely that can’t be true. I shake my head.
“Blackmere is going to be under new management soon and, if the rumours are true, the new boss will be worse than me. I am doing you a favour.” He grabs a handful of my hair, lifting me off the couch and dragging me outside to where his car is parked.
“You are weak like your mother!” He is rambling angrily now, but all I can focus on is the pain of my hair being yanked. “Blackmere will no longer protect you. You are coming back home whether you like it or not.”
He drags me out the door and down to the car, throwing me into the back seat before walking around and climbing into the driver’s seat. He slams the door shut and speeds off down the street and back to my new hell, Murwood.
* * *
I climb out of the shower, my silver hair dripping wet. I wipe the fog off the mirror and look at myself, even though every time I do, I remind myself of my mother.
When we went out we were always mistaken for sisters. High cheekbones, emerald green eyes and full, red lips.
She was promised to my father before she had even been born. Her own father was indebted to Murwood Mafia.
She wanted to disown them when she was old enough to leave, but by that point, she was already pregnant with me at the age of seventeen. I loved my mother with all my heart and I admired every single bit of her strength and power. Arranged marriages aren’t too common in the Underbelly unless you are indebted so much that it is the only way you could pay that debt or you were strengthening your family’s own organisation.
It has been a year since my mother passed and my world fell apart. Not only did I lose my caregiver, but I lost my best friend. We were inseparable. Now I feel like there’s no one I can trust.
The first few years after we ran from my father, I would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. My mother would come running into my room, looking around to make sure I was safe before sitting next to me on the bed, pulling me close to her and stroking my hair, whispering to me that it would all be okay. I was scared that father would come and take me away again.
The nightmares were constant. Every time I shut my eyes, my father was there. In the room with me, watching through the window.
Rhys always told us that my father was out there looking, but reassured us we were safe. Even with his protection, I still panicked when I was in the room alone. I knew my father was a man obsessed with his work and he would be relentless in trying to find us. It was not because he cared about our safety; it was because we were his property.
The day my mother passed, I fell into a depression. There was no one to soothe those nightmares anymore. I would wake up from one and, instead of her running into my room, I would be alone, trapped in my own thoughts. I would crawl out of bed and go into my mother’s room. The scent of her perfume there comforted me and made me feel less alone.
Those were also the nights that I would cry myself to sleep.
