Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
When my mom met Alexander, she’d been young. Too young. That seemed to be his type. Get them young and take advantage. Make it so they depended on him. He wanted his women to think he was God. When she was fifteen he’d found her on the streets and brought her to work in some restaurant he owned. It was all a cover for laundering money and running drugs, but she’d been head over heels for the guy and went willingly. She never told me the whole story, but after she died, an old lady who worked in the restaurant told me everything.
Alexander had forced himself on her the first chance he got. My mother convinced herself that it was payment for all he provided for her. And the fact that he didn’t let his men touch her. She did what he said and worked in the restaurant, but was always there when he came calling. Servicing him. It went on like that for a while, and unsurprisingly, she got pregnant. The first time, she was almost sixteen, and he wouldn’t let her keep it. He had someone come in and give her an abortion against her will. After that he put her on birth control and told her not to let it happen again. She knew about his real family, the wife and his baby boy, and he didn’t want her messing that up. Dirtying his name, as if it wasn’t already. But she got pregnant again not long after, claiming the birth control didn’t work. He made her get a second abortion and told her if she got pregnant again, she’d regret it.
By the time she was twenty she was madly in love with him. Even though he treated her like trash and starting hitting her, she still loved him. I’ll never understand it. I think she had Stockholm syndrome or something. I’d always wondered if he had hit her too hard a few times and she wasn’t all there. Reality wasn’t something my mother dealt in.
She got pregnant and begged him to let her keep it―because she knew he would never leave his family and she wanted a piece of him. I don’t know how she convinced him, but he let her, and I came along. She named me after her grandmother and gave me her last name. I was brought into this world as Paige Marie Turner, and my father never wanted anything to do with me. I think my mother thought she could love me enough that it wouldn’t matter, but I believe she had only enough room in her heart for him. Alexander had consumed her soul and she wouldn’t let him go.
I grew up in the restaurant and was shuffled back and forth to school by the old Italian ladies who worked there. One would think they would have shown me some kindness, but they mostly made sure I had enough to eat, and left me alone. I can only assume no one wanted to get in the way of Alexander and his crazy lover.
I’d watch my father come and go, listening to all the things he said, never forgetting any of them. Maybe he thought I was too young to recall some of what I’d seen or heard, but I remembered everything.
As time went on, I learned to live with my mother’s shortcomings, and took care of myself and oftentimes her. But everything changed when she found out he’d left his family. When she heard that he’d walked out and let them go, she had the moment she’d been waiting for since she was fifteen.
In my heart, I believe she thought he would finally make her his wife, and pull her out of the dump he’d thrown her in. That this was her moment to shine and be recognized as a woman of worth. Instead, everything went to shit.
I roll on my side and close my eyes, not wanting to remember the rest. Not wanting to have the images of what happened flash through my mind. As the sun hits my face, I lie there and let it warm me while I try to push away the dark thoughts and all the hate that boils inside me. I wish Captain was back in bed with me. I wish I was wrapped in his arms so he would be all I could think about.
Then I hear a knock on the door.
Slipping out of bed, I realize I’ve still got on Captain’s dress shirt, and snuggle into it. His smell clings to it, and I inhale deeply, wanting to breathe him in. I walk to the door with my nose buried in the fabric and look through the peephole. When I can’t see anyone there, I flip the lock Captain must have set when he left, and open the door an inch. Looking down at the floor, I see a small brown bag there and open the door a little more. Looking up and down the hallway, I don’t see anyone, and I reach for the bag, thinking maybe the doorman from downstairs brought it up.