16. f*****g answers
2104 Words
Wendy POV
Both of them stand in front of me, shaking like aspen leaves. I force to stop my laughs when they realize who my kids' father actually is and that we have contact, something they didn't know. Am I evil? Maybe. Does it matter at the moment? No. They deserve it after everything I've been exposed to.
None of them deserves or gets any sympathy from me, mainly because it is they who owe me something, a debt that they should pay; answers. I need to know why they treated me worse than the stepmother, and the stepsisters treated Cinderella in the fairy tale.
I'm not a bad person, and I've never been either for that matter, quite the opposite. My goal has always been to be kind to others and help if I can, which is not a characteristic I have received from my "parents" upbringing. I live by the golden rule even found in the Bible.
"Treat others as you want to be treated." Not once in all these years of the Lord have I been disrespectful or rude to them, even though they both earned it repeatedly. Every time they scolded me or pointed out once again about my worthlessness, I was respectful and made the stupid choice to apologize for the person I am.
It's nothing I do anymore; I can tell you that. Nothing can ever make me succumb to someone else's will, especially not a man. The only men I bow before are my sons when I help tie their shoes; no one else deserves it, above all, not them.
"Well? Shall we move towards my headquarters?" asks Damien in a cold but, at the same time, a formal tone.
Neither Mitchell nor Angela dare to say anything, but instead nod in response and follow us towards the building. I don't know where we're going, but given that the men I've been hanging out with don't show any sign that we need a car, I guess it's walking distance to the place.
Both of them glance at me periodically worried, as if I am a tigress who will attack her prey any second. It's a fun idea, and it would undoubtedly have been an interesting story to tell my dad, but it's not worth risking a report for assault.
"Stop looking at my queen if life is you dear," blurts Damien in a menacing voice and takes my hand in his.
I lift my head and smile gratefully at him, not because I am neither uncomfortable nor afraid of them, but because he shows that he actually cares about me. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have kept going all this spectacle of being the "evil mob boss."
Despite the present company, I enjoy walking along the streets of New York with my boys, I rarely get the opportunity to do so, and even they seem comfortable watching everything we pass. Adrien, Jaxon, and Brody are chatting among themselves behind us.
If it weren't for my involuntary adoptive parents, this could have been a good day. The sun is shining, the people on the streets are happy, and I feel relaxed all in all. I will finally get answers to all these questions that have been spinning inside my head since I was a child.
We reach the building, and it's not at all what I expected. Instead of an office building, we enter a skyscraper with apartments. I give Damien an inquiring look, he winks in response and gently squeezes my hand to indicate that he knows what he is doing.
The elevator takes us to the top floor, surprise surprise, the man holding my hand is one of the richest and most successful men in town, of course we are going to the top. Outside the apartment, two men stand in black suits and remind of the men from "The Matrix."
They bow quickly to Damien and give the rest of us a nod before the door opens. We step in one by one, and the men standing outside the door have moved the parents. Angela and Mitchell sit on each chair in front of me with irritation mixed with fear over their faces.
The two men stand at the door, Adrien sits down with the others on the couch, and I stroll in front of the two people I once loved more than everything. Back and forth, I walk in front of them with my gaze all the time over their faces. I circulate to test their reactions, and they immediately follow me with their eyes, which means only one thing; they fear me.
"After all the years of beatings and harsh words, we are now here," I start in a bored tone and sigh. "The rules on how this will work are simple; I ask you questions, and you answer."
"What if we don't answer?" Mitchell defiantly asks.
"If you avoid answering my questions, then you get a bullet in your body, believe me, it hurts like hell. If you avoid answering all the questions, you will finally bleed to death and die from the gunshot wounds. Besides that, I prefer not to be interrupted when I speak, even though I know you love to do it," I say, straining my eyes at them. "Why don't we start easy? Why do you hate me?"
"We don't hate you, we-"
Lightning fast, I pick up the weapon from my bag, take off the fuse and shoot Mitchell in the foot, a direct hit! He screams from the pain, and I can see how Brody gives Damien a high five in the corner of my eye. I squat in front of the man I once called father and look him in the eye.
"Oh, a mistake of mine, but something you should have anticipated. I don't like it when people lie or keep information away from me, answer honestly or risk getting the next bullet in your forehead."
"We hate you for who you are," Angela begins. "Or rather, for whom you belong."
I put the gun to her forehead and strain her with my eyes in the same way I did with Mitchell. Her whole body shakes where she sits, and I'm guessing she realized her mistake in the same second she said it. There was not a small one either.
"I don't belong to anyone; you get that?" I growl at her. "I gave birth and raised four children on my own, got scared out of town by the person I thought was my dad, and now this. Nobody, I repeat, NOBODY owns me."
She flinches by my harsh words and actually has the decency to look ashamed. No matter how much Angela has mistreated me over the years, I can't hate her the way I wish I could. This woman was my whole world when I was growing up, hell, both of them were.
"Go on," I say, casually waving the gun.
"Considering your mother," Angela says with a bitter tone.
"What about my mother?"
"Lena was my stepsister, we grew up together, and she was always the perfect daughter. Even my father preferred her over me! She took everything from me! Me and Mitchell tried to have children for years without succeeding. But, of course, Lena would get pregnant without trying; nothing was ever hard for her. So when we were notified that there was a little girl of six years who needed a foster home, we decided to accept. When you walked in the front door, I instantly recognized you, and I knew you were Lena's daughter. You are an exact copy of your mother," she says bitterly.
"So, have I understood this correctly... You hated my mother because she had an easier life than you, even more so when she got pregnant and you couldn't. When you get the opportunity to be "mom" and live up to the title, you immediately decide to destroy the little girl who just wanted love, for a quarrel that was several years old?!" I scream in her face. "Don't you hear yourself? How sick that sounds? I was a kid, a little girl without parents, alone in the world, and instead of treating me like a person with some f*****g human decency, did you decide to break me down?"
"It was the only way I could come up with; you remind me daily of her. I knew it would hurt her to-"
"MY MOTHER IS DEAD!" I scream again, and both of them look at each other confusingly. "She died; that's why I ended up in the foster care system from the beginning. How have you hurt her when she hasn't even been here and experienced the burden you put on a f*****g six-year-old?!"
"Is Lena..."
"Yes, she's dead. She was shot."
"Wendy, we didn't know..."
"Oh no, you don't! Don't you dare to play innocent victims now. After all, it does not matter whether my mother was dead or not; no one can put such a burden on a child. I have four children, and never ever could I hate them the way you hate me. Not even if they were someone else's child. You're not f*****g healthy anywhere! Fortunately, you will never come near my children."
"Wendy, please. We're your mom and dad!" Mitchell exclaims with tears in his eyes.
"YOU TWO WERE NEVER MY PARENTS!" I roar in response. "Parents don't break down their children, traumatize them, make them hate themselves, and make them want to take their lives," I whisper the last bit.
I put the gun on Angela's temple, and she sobs loudly. My hand is shaking. I want to kill them, but I can't. Because what's the difference between them and me if I do? As I've mentioned before, I'm not an evil person. I can't; it's simply not possible. The weapon is lowered, and my tears are flowing.
"The only thing I ever wanted from you was your love. You deserve to die, but I'm not capable of being as evil as you are," I say before I turn against Damien. "Crush their company and destroy their reputation, cost whatever it cost; I pay." I say, and he nods in response.
Brody and Jaxon pick up their phones to put the ball rolling. I walk towards the door and hear how both of them start asking me not to destroy the only thing they have. With a dead look and an evil grin on my lips, I say;
"The only thing you have? Strange statement. Given that you destroyed the only thing I had, my will to live. Now it's my turn to destroy something of yours."
When the door closes behind me, I run towards the elevator and have time to see Damien run in the same direction just when the elevator doors close. I slide down the floor along the wall, and tears fall like never before. How can they do this? And for what? A petty revenge against a woman who was dead before they even started?
I call Gregorio and ask him to take the children to the park, which is a short distance from the building. In times like this, it is the children who give me strength and joy; they are all I need. Gratefully, they never deny me that love, but give it to me no matter what.
When the kids see me, they run towards me, and I sit down on my knees to catch all four of them in my arms. Gregorio drives away, and I stay in my place, terrified to release my angels. I breathe heavily and make an effort to hold back the tears that threaten to fall again.
"Mom," Caleb says, lifting my face to look at him. "It's okay; you're safe. Let go."
When the last word leaves his mouth, the tears fall again, and the children hug me even harder than before. I hear a couple of footsteps but don't look up, I already know who it is, and at this moment, I don't care. Caleb pokes at the others, and they let go until he's the only one left to hug me. He lifts my head and looks into my tear-soaked face before he says;
"Everything's going to be okay, mom. I will always protect you."
A/N:
Hello everyone!
This was a heavy chapter indeed... Wendy got the answers she needed, the question is if she'll ever be able to get over it.
* What are your thoughts about Angela's reasons?
* Do you think that Mitchell actually hate Wendy or did he only do those things because of his wife?
* Did Wendy take the right decision?
* What did you think about Caleb's protectiveness?
Please, let me know your thoughts! Lots of love! <3
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