Page 114 of Tempted By Poison
Damn, I knew nothing of that. To me, he was a generous older man that treated me like his own and gardened with his wife.
“When Carter died, he sent me there quicker than I could blink. He didn't want to lose another child, and he needed me...resilient, able to defend myself. For two years I trained. I was beaten and thrown around just to become stronger.” Her eyes flicker away for a moment before looking back at me. “My father trained me until he died.”
The stiffness in my shoulder relaxed. Now it's my turn to say it. “I’m sorry.”
She shakes her head. “Don't be. He lived a great life. Me, on the other hand, I was taken away from mine to become a warrior. A killer, taught to never show any signs of weakness. Without my father, I knew nothing more than rage and death, so I completed my service in the marines and was offered an opportunity to join an underground group that specializes in getting rid of very dangerous people. Least that’s what I thought.” She steadied her focus on me when she said that, probably searching for judgment, but she’ll never get that from me. “I never asked questions, I only did as I was told and completed the job. Until one day my thoughts did something. Something that it's never done before.”
I notice the crease in her forehead deepen slightly. “What was it?”
Her brows rise then fall as she shakes her head. “I asked a question.”
My head cocks. “What's so wrong with that?”
“You never ask, you only do. Asking questions results in punishment. Something I was aware of, but I couldn't hold back my reservations, I felt...wrong. Although I know it was my job and at that time, I was becoming good at it. Something just didn't sit well with me.” She lowers her glass. “So, I asked who the target was and what they had done. I found out they weren't as bad as I thought, and I didn't want to complete that mission.” Her eyes lands on mine with a dim light. “POPOV didn't like that. So, he ordered five of the sisters to beat me to a pulp as he watched, then threw me in an underground pit.”
Rage engulfs my chest, and I’m clenching my teeth so hard that it's bound to break. “For how long.” I managed to get out.
Anita inhales and thick breath, then sighs it out. “One week. It didn't help that it rained half of that either, so mud and everything...” She waves it off like it's just your typical conversation on a Sunday sunny morning.
That damn prick. I need to find that asshole.
She continues, “The mission was completed, and with or without me, those people died. It was that moment that I realized everyone dies at some point, and it was no point in avoiding the inevitable. Fighting for a cause that I could never solve. So, I never asked again. And when I felt myself edging to that part, I just shut it out as much as I could and finished my job.” Her voice lowers to a somber undertone, and my chest tightens.
I keep imagining every time she spoke out, any time that fucker POPOV punished her, makes me want to leave this dinner table and hunt him down. Then, deliver his head to her for a New Years gift.
I picture the sweet young girl that I used to know in the mud getting kicked and beaten to the bone just to become stronger than steel. The image makes my blood boil uncontrollably.
My jaw stiffens. “You didn't deserve to be taken from your life, you didn't deserve any of that.”
Her gaze flickers away. “No...but I don't have any regrets. It made me who I am today, even when I missed the girl I was.”
I stop eating and give her my attention. At that same time, she looks back at me. “If you were to change your path now, what would you do?” From the time leading into now, all my thoughts and hope would be geared to her staying here with me. But after hearing her story, I want her to be as free as she can be...and as happy as she can be. Whether that is here or elsewhere. It hurts so fucking bad, not being selfish.
“Speaking of that.” She fidgets with her wrist. “One of your students asked if I can be the new Combat teacher.”
A dark cloud of optimism surfaces above. “Who asked?”
“It's classified.”
I purse my lips into a smile. “Alright. Then.” I clasp my fingers on the table and leave forward slightly. “What is it that you want?”
Her head shakes slightly as she stares at the flowers. “I don't know.”
“You do.”
She looks at me, shocked. “I've never had a clear path. I’ve—”
“Anita,” I say firmly, causing her to wince at me. “What do you want?”
She swallows and at this second her eyes sink into mine. Her lips open then close. A second later, she says, “I want to be free.”
Her brows pinched as if she's stunned that those words tumbled from her lips. A gleam glazes over her brown eyes.
“I want to have a life of my own. I don't want to be controlled and used as a weapon anymore or answer to anyone who doesn't have my best interest at heart.” She looks back at the roses and her fingers begin to graze over the petals. “But who am I to live a normal life? There's no such thing as normal for me. For us.”
My head cocks back. “Normal? Who’s to say you need to be normal for these things? Only for you to feel some sense of humanity. If you enjoy knitting, then do it. You like to do nails? Go for it. You want to be a wedding planner, fucking do it.” I narrow my gaze at her. “Or, if you want to put your real talent to use, you can become the new combat teacher. Your options are endless. You can try your best to be normal, and I bet it’ll be one of the most excruciating moments of your life.”
I lean forward and slide a black rose from the vase and slowly lower it toward her. “Normalcy is only an illusion, amor. A simple fixation people crave with no sense. That leaves them afraid of what they don’t know, lost in a world of brutal savages. The difference between us.” I shift the rose back and forth between us, tilting my head, watching her listen to my words closely.
