Page 67 of Extraction
She stiffened, and every stress line on her face showed through. “You know when people ask you how many people you’ve killed and how that feeling burns from the inside and makes you want to throw up and run away all at the same time?” I couldn’t have described it better myself, so I gave a small nod of appreciation. “That’s how it feels when people bring up my past with Bruno.”
“I respect that.” And I did, but I still wanted to know. “What was he doing at Sully’s party?”
She pulled out her necklace and rubbed her pendant as if it comforted her. “He was there for me. He wants to control me.” She looked out the window. “He couldn’t before, but now he’s figured out a way.”
“Which is…?”
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I ask a lot of questions when I feel like someone’s not being totally straight with me.”
Her mouth morphed into a straight line when she looked at me. “Not being straight with you? What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
She looked hurt. “I’m a good person, Paul. I’ve chosen to spend most of my life helping others. I put myself in danger doing it. You Blackstone guys are like family to each other. It’s obvious to me that you all care. I wasn’t gifted anything like that in my life. I’ve done nothing but help you since we’ve met. Just because I keep some things to myself doesn’t mean I’m doing anything wrong or I’m not trustworthy.” She swiped a tear away in frustration. “I’m beginning to get the feeling that maybe you just don’t want to see the good in me.”
“Whoa, maybe I went about this in the wrong way.” I felt badly she felt that way, but I wasn’t used to people not telling me the entire truth. “Why don’t you tell me about your family?”
Her gaze moved to the window again, and when a car went by, I saw her jaw was clenched.
“You want to try to understand where I come from to better understand me?” She gave a dark laugh, and I realized I hit another nerve. “Well, let’s see if I can sum things up for you. I was dropped off on the steps of an orphanage by my mother in the middle of a snowstorm when I was only a few hours old. Later, I would learn that my father skipped town the moment he found out she was pregnant. The sisters took me in.” She rubbed her pendant again.
“When I was eight, my mother came back and said she wanted me. That lasted all of two days before she told me to wait for her on the steps of the orphanage while she went to get me an ice cream. She never returned. She pulled the same shit again when I was fifteen. Fast forward to sixteen when I had to leave the sisters because I was too old and apparently there was never anyone who wanted to adopt me. That felt great.” She gave me a glare. “I ended up living on the streets of Billings.”
“I forgot you’re from Montana.” I didn’t know what else to say. I felt like a jerk, but I had nothing.
“When I was twenty,” she decided to continue, “I was playing around on social media and found my mother had an Instagram page and went through her family contacts. There was a girl with my mom who looked a lot like her, and a man that looked to be her father, and she was showing off an engagement ring. I looked up the girl and saw she worked at a flower shop and decided to go meet her. I mean, she’s my half-sister, after all. Let’s just say that it didn’t go down well.
“I’d barely gotten my reason for being there out when she had my mother on the phone. She flipped out, understandably, so I left, not wanting to make a scene. I went back a week later against my better judgement and tried again, but she flew off the handle and said she wanted nothing to do with me. That I reminded her that her mom was a cheater. I didn’t realize our mother was in the back, and she stepped out and nailed the last peg in the coffin. She said I was a mistake and there was a reason she never kept me. She demanded I leave and never return. So, I didn’t.”
Tears fell, and she didn’t bother to hide them. “The sisters at the orphanage gave me this.” She showed me the pendant that hung around her neck. “It’s the Patron Saint of Orphans. They said he would always be there for me, watching over me."
“I’m sorry, Nicole. I shouldn’t have pried.”
“Well, you did, so…” Again, I sat there. What was there to say? “I wasn’t always alone, though.” She looked out the window as if picturing a memory. “There was a field with a stable on the other side of the property. Their horses roamed free in the field. They looked so pretty. I’d watch from the fence, and sometimes they’d get really close. There was a brown one with white; he was my favorite. His markings looked like a map of the world. I used to trace my finger along the edges of the white spots and imagine all the places I wanted to visit. He’d let me touch his nose sometimes, and I’d stay really still and talk to him. He’d just be with me, almost like he knew I needed a friend.” She tilted her head and peeked up at my face as I let all that she said wash over me. I wanted her to transfer her pain to me.
She changed the subject. “I might add that it was the pendant that gave me the in with the sisters. And it’s why they gave me the baby’s birth certificate.”
Of course, that would have been a connection for them and opened a door for her. I nodded.
“To finish my life history so I hold nothing back…” She raised a brow at me. “I worked hard to become what I am today. I met Jack, my contact at the Washington Post and he saw my potential. Eventually, I gained a reputation for being difficult to work with, but that’s only because I let nothing stop me from getting the story I want. Then I met Ben, my cameraman, and we’re the best team at the Post.” She waited for me to comment, but I just studied her. “You know the best war correspondents are the ones who have no family to use against them, right?” She stuck out her chin. “Shit, I can’t even keep a boyfriend. Well, at least one who can keep it in his pants.” I saw the pain her ex must have caused her. “So, feel better now?” She dripped with sarcasm and blew out a big huff.
“I like that I know something about you,” I shot back. Then I remembered she’d been open with me, and that was what I’d asked for. “You certainly didn’t get a fair shake in life. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for you. I’m sorry for that.”
She acknowledged my comment with a nod. “And what about you? What’s your story?”
Ugh. I figured that question would come, and it was only fair I answered, even if some of it had to be redacted. I took a moment to let my mind wander back to when I was a kid and figured I should share my not so happy childhood with her as well. Maybe she’d see we were a bit alike.
“My parents bounced when I was young. My dad was a piece of shit. My aunt stepped in to raise me, but she had a boyfriend and did the bare minimum. I don’t blame her for it. She’s still around but has her own family and loves her grandkids. I joined the Army the moment I could. Oh, and I have a sister who’s a lot older than me.”
“Do you talk to your sister?”
“No, I’m not close with her, and I’ve no desire to be. She did let me know our father died a year after I joined the service. John and I became close when we met years ago, and then we were both recruited to join Blackstone. I’ve never looked back.”
“What was your mom like? Do you remember her?”
“Not really.” I shrugged. “Maybe I’ve blocked any memories I had. My grandmother, who has now passed, used to tell me a few things about her, but she didn’t seem to care much for her either. She probably wasn’t impressed that she ran off on us. I guess she was kind but quiet. I had a few photos but nothing I cared to keep. I wished I’d had a chance to get to know her. My father was such a deadbeat, I had no time for him.”
