"Breathe Me" by Sia
I sat perched on the dusty porch of Bernard's weathered house, clad in my sleek black custom-made suit, awaiting Jimmy's arrival.
Moonlight cast eerie shadows across Bernard's face, accentuating the deep lines etched into his features like the gnarled bark of an ancient oak tree, juxtaposed with the crimson smear beside his mouth. He retrieved a handkerchief from his back pocket, dabbing at the blood with a resigned air. Settling down beside me, he maintained a cautious distance, his curiosity evident in his hesitant inquiry.
"Why the sudden interest in Belle?" he ventured, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
"I married her," I retorted sharply, my words slicing through the night air with razor-sharp precision.
"And I don't tolerate anyone harming what's mine, past, present, or future. Understand?"
His gaze remained fixed ahead, his eyes devoid of emotion as he replied, "Well," a hint of mockery lacing his words, "that was a misstep for a fearless Don, considering she's damaged goods."
My blood surged with fury at his callous remark, my fist tightening instinctively before connecting with his face, leaving a crimson trail in its wake.
"Damaged goods? She's your daughter!" I spat, my anger boiling over.
He met my gaze, blood staining his teeth as he spoke, "You can beat me all you want," he said with a twisted smile, "but it won't change the truth. She was never my daughter to begin with. Do as you please with her."
As my fist hovered menacingly in the air, ready to unleash another blow, Jimmy's timely arrival halted my relentless pursuit of vengeance. His voice cut through the tension, a beacon of reason in the darkness of my rage.
"Boss, is everything alright?" Jimmy's concern was palpable as he lowered the car window, his eyes flickering between me and Bernard.
"We're leaving. Now," I declared, my voice strained with barely restrained fury, "before I do something I'll regret."
With a final glare at Bernard, I straightened my jacket, dusting off particles from my pants before striding purposefully towards the waiting car.
"I'll be seeing you soon, Bernard," I muttered darkly as I climbed into the passenger seat.
As Jimmy maneuvered the car away from Bernard's decrepit house, the distance between us and the scene of confrontation grew with each passing second.
Turning towards Jimmy, I knew I had to confide in him.
"I need your assistance with something else," I admitted, my tone grave.
"Belle was sold to someone when she was eighteen. I need to find out who, as her useless father can't remember a thing."
"That's messed up," Jimmy remarked with a shake of his head. "Where should I start looking?"
"This situation feels eerily familiar, and I don't like it. Begin by checking the old archives at my uncle's office. He was handling debts eight years ago," I instructed firmly. "Any updates on Rose?"
"She's apparently got herself a boyfriend. Teenage love drama, you know. Maybe she just ran off with him," Jimmy suggested.
"And let me tell you, Aunt Ginny is no saint."
"And who's this boyfriend?" I inquired, intrigued despite the gravity of our current predicament.
"Some guy from her school named Ryan," Jimmy replied. "Never trust a Ryan. They're always trouble."
I couldn't help but chuckle at Jimmy's observation.
"Of course, it had to be a Ryan."
***
After Jimmy dropped me off, I hurried inside to shower, determined to spare Belle the sight of my disheveled state.
Once refreshed, I made my way to our bedroom, where Belle sat anxiously on the edge of the bed, her worry palpable the moment I entered.
"Apollo, where's Rose?" Her question hung heavy in the air, laced with concern.
"She was asleep when Jimmy arrived," I lied, drawing her close in a futile attempt to offer solace.
Belle recoiled from my touch, her eyes betraying a mix of hurt and suspicion.
"You're lying."
Her nervous gesture of biting her nails mirrored my own unease as she turned to face me.
"If you didn't want me to see her, you should have just been honest."
I reached out to her, the desperation evident in my voice. "Belle, it's not like that."
"Then what is it?" she demanded, her gaze piercing through my facade.
"Tell me the truth."
With a deep breath, I met her unwavering stare, the words tumbling out in a rush.
"Rose ran away from your aunt's place with her boyfriend. I don't know where she is, but Jimmy is looking for her."
As Belle absorbed the weight of my words, her silence spoke volumes, her worry etched across her features. Rising from the bed, she began to pace the room, her movements betraying the whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind.
"Belle?" I called out gently, hoping to anchor her back to the present moment.
She halted abruptly, turning to face me with a fierce determination in her eyes. Her hand pressed against my chest, a silent plea for action.
"Apollo, we need to find her. NOW!!" Her words rang out with a sense of urgency that pierced through the air.
"We will, I promise," I assured her, my hands cradling her cheeks in a gesture of reassurance.
"I can't just sit here. I need to do something," she insisted, her fingers gripping my shirt tightly.
I nodded in agreement.
"Alright. We'll search for her together."
Tears shimmered in her eyes as she leaned forward to press a soft kiss against my cheek.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "You don't know how much this means to me."
Belle
I approached my suitcase, still in disarray from the earlier chaos. Grabbing each piece of clothing one by one, I tossed them behind me, feeling my heart race with each movement. Panic bubbled up inside me, and I found myself tangling my fingers through my hair, collapsing to the ground with my face buried in my hands.
"Apollo," I admitted, my voice a shaky whisper, "I have nothing to wear. Everything's destroyed."
Apollo knelt beside me, his arms enveloping me in a comforting embrace. I found solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"It's okay," he soothed, his hands gently smoothing my hair as he pulled me closer. "I'll ask Elena to bring you something. Just try to relax. Everything will be okay, I promise."
Tears welled up, spilling over and tracing wet paths down my cheeks. I nodded silently, murmuring a soft, "Please, thank you."
With a tender kiss to my forehead, Apollo rose and stepped away, his phone already in hand as he dialed Elena's number.
As he left, time seemed to stretch and distort with each tick of the clock. Anxiety gnawed at me as I paced the room in my underwear, my nails bitten to the quick.
My hair was a wild, untamed mane, and my mascara had surrendered to the heat, leaving dark trails under my eyes.
Rose was more than just a sister; she was my only family. We had grown up without a mom, relying solely on each other.
Life had always been a battle for me, but I was a warrior. I fought my battles fiercely, shielding Rose from the harsh realities of our world. In doing so, I had painted a picture of perfection for her, a picture far removed from the harsh realities of life.
The guilt of not preparing her for the world outside our bubble gnawed at me. But what stung more was the realization that I had been enjoying my time with Apollo while she was out there, alone.
The guilt was a heavy weight in my chest, and I found myself collapsing onto the bed, surrendering to a fresh wave of tears.
The door creaked open, and Apollo was by my side in an instant. He cradled my face in his hands, his shirt soaking up my tears as he comforted me with gentle strokes of his hand against my skin.
"Elena will be here in thirty minutes," he reassured me, his hand cupping my chin, encouraging me to take deep, calming breaths.
"We'll find her, Belle. Everything will be okay."
Apollo took my hands in his, his touch a grounding force amidst the chaos.
"Jimmy thinks she might be with a boy named Ryan. Do you have any idea where he might live?"
I shook my head, biting my already ragged nails as I racked my brain for clues.
Then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit me—Rose had a friend, Lucy, who had an older brother in his mid-twenties named Ryan.
I let out a sigh of relief, whispering to Apollo, "I think I know where she might be."
"Rose isn't in the company of a boy but a fully grown man. I am scared, Apollo," I confessed, my voice choked with emotion as tears traced a path down my cheeks.
"Hey," he responded, his thumb gently brushing away my tears, "I promise, Rose will be safe."
As I leaned into him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat became my anchor in the storm that raged around us. I lifted my face from the sanctuary of his chest, meeting his gaze once more.
His eyes were a tranquil sea, a stark contrast to the tempest within me. In their depths, I found solace, losing myself as I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers tracing patterns on the nape of his neck.
"I apologize for my earlier outburst," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I didn't mean to add to your worries," he replied, his voice a soothing balm.
I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, whispering, "I've experienced too much loss, Apollo. I can't bear to lose you too, especially now that I've found you. Some might view this as a curse, but to me, it's a blessing."
A wry smile tugged at Apollo's lips, his eyes taking on a distant look, a hint of melancholy lurking within.
"I'm a curse, Belle. You just haven't seen it yet."
Placing a finger on his lips, I shook my head, cupping his cheek. His smile returned, pulling me closer.
Elena burst through the door, two bags swinging from her hands. The door swung wide, hitting the wall with a loud thud. She was panting, her flip-flops adorned with pink feathers a stark contrast to her hurried entrance.
"I got here as fast as I could."
Elena extended a bag towards me, and as I accepted it, gratitude welled up within me.
"Elena, I can't express how much I appreciate this," I said, my voice laced with sincerity.
"Family emergencies necessitate swift action," she responded, her nod affirming her words.
Apollo approached her, planting a kiss on her cheek.
"Thanks, Mom. Your help means the world to us."
"Your father and brother are downstairs as well," Elena informed him, her gaze steady.
Apollo's body stiffened, his eyes flashing with anger.
"What?" he exclaimed, his voice echoing in the room.
"Your wife's sister is missing, Apollo. Did you honestly believe I'd let them sleep through the night while we're here, scouring for clues?" Elena retorted, her palm connecting with the back of his head, her lip caught between her teeth as she struck.
"Mom," he protested.
"Be reasonable," Elena shot back, a smirk playing on her lips. "If I'm losing sleep over this, they should too."
I found myself smiling at her audacious attitude, and she returned it with a knowing wink.
"Let's not waste any more time. Belle, you get dressed while I take Apollo downstairs with me," Elena suggested, her hand enveloping his as she led him out of the room, his backward glance reminiscent of a lost puppy.
As the door slammed shut, I grabbed the black sweater and leggings from the bags Elena had left for me and quickly put them on. I pulled my hair into a messy bun and dabbed my face with a tissue, hoping to look somewhat presentable. I found my old all-star sneakers in my suitcase, which were still intact, probably because Sabrina had dismissed them as too worn out. I ran out of the bedroom and hurried down the stairs.
Apollo waited in the hallway with a man who looked like he had lived a hard life. His bald head was covered with wrinkles, and his eyes were a sickly yellow. He clutched a cane in his hand, but it did little to support his frail body. He swayed from side to side, barely able to keep his balance.
His dark brown eyes met Apollo's with a pleading look as I approached.
"I'm Belle," I introduced myself, feeling slightly nervous.
"I wish we could have met under better circumstances."
He responded warmly, stepping forward for a hug.
"Welcome to the family."
Apollo supported him by the arm, easing him into a chair as the cane slipped from his grasp. The younger man caught it and returned it to his hand. He shared the same brown eyes as the older man, but his hair was curly, and his smile irresistible, much like Apollo's.
"I'm Atlas, the better half of the family," he quipped.
A chuckle escaped my lips, unbidden.
"I was under the impression that Apollo was the better half."
Apollo's laughter echoed mine, a warm kiss planted on my forehead before he playfully jabbed Atlas in the shoulder.
"I still hold that title."
Elena was poised at the entrance, engaged in conversation with an obscured figure. The cloak of night had shrouded him in mystery, his identity hidden. Elena, a lit cigarette dangling from her lips, paced restlessly in her pink feathered slippers. The smoke curled up into the night as she called out, "Where do we begin our search for Rose?"
"Jimmy has procured an address," Apollo's voice rang out, his attention on securing a man to a chair.
"Father, you and Atlas are to remain here."
Atlas gave a nod of understanding. Apollo then closed the distance between us, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. Our hands found each other, fingers interlacing, as I looked up at him. Together, we moved towards the door.
Elena paused momentarily, allowing the man she'd been speaking with to step into the light. His emergence sent a chill down my spine, my blood turning to ice. He was compact, muscular, a scar marring his face. His grey hair was slicked back, eyes dark and foreboding. He was the kind of man you instinctively knew to avoid. I tightened my grip on Apollo's hand, seeking refuge behind him.
The man's voice sliced through the silence; his words laced with hidden meanings.
"You failed to mention that he wed Belle Bernard."
Apollo's reply was steady, a note of caution underlying his words.
"You never asked."
Sensing my unease, Apollo gently nudged me behind him, whispering in a hushed tone, "We need to leave."
He guided me with a gentle yet firm hand towards the exit. Once outside, his gaze met mine, a silent question hanging in the air.
"Belle, are you alright? You seem petrified."
His voice was a mere whisper, mirroring the fear that had taken hold of me.
"I believe… your uncle might be the man my father traded me to."
The words hung in the air like icy daggers, amplifying the terror within me. Apollo's eyes, usually a tranquil shade of sky blue, morphed into the tumultuous hues of a stormy sea.
His jaw tightened, a fierce protectiveness flashing in his gaze.
"I will kill him," he vowed, his words echoing the darkness of his promise.
I reached out, my hand seeking his.
"Apollo, just… please, stay with me."
He drew me close, his arms enveloping me, "you're safe with me."
Elena approached us, as Jimmy maneuvered the car into the driveway.
"Shall we go?" She gestured towards the vehicle, her voice steady despite the tension.
***
Bathed in the soft glow of 5th Avenue, the houses around us were still alive with light. Apollo was inside, engaged in a conversation with Ryan and Rose. Elena and I found ourselves outside, the chill of the night air wrapping around us. I was restless, pacing back and forth, while Elena leaned against the car, a lit cigarette in her hand.
Breaking the silence that had settled between us, Elena turned to me, her gaze sharp and probing.
"Now that we're alone, would you care to reveal your true intentions towards my son?" she asked.
"True intentions?" I echoed, my eyes meeting hers.
"Surely, there must be something. No one sacrifices themselves for another without a reason," she pressed on.
"Rose is my sister. That's my reason," I responded, hoping to quell her doubts.
"I've seen Apollo in situations like this before, and they didn't end well. You're a charming girl, and he's probably quite smitten with you, but what you both are experiencing now is likely lust, not love, my dear," she warned.
"Elena," I began, "I've been alone for so long that I started to find comfort in my solitude. Apollo showed me that solitude can be sweeter when shared."
"You may believe that now. I don't want him to become a casualty of love, overwhelmed by your affection. That boy, who is now a man of thirty-four, has weathered more storms than most men will in their lifetime," she explained. "And while I may not be his mother, I love him as if he were my own. If you hurt him, I will make you regret it," she threatened, her voice firm.
"And trust me, I have the means to do so."
"You speak as if you don't have faith in him, but I do," I countered, "I can't make any promises because I'm still getting to know him. I don't know if my feelings will endure or if I'll end up hurting him. But what I do know is that I'll strive to understand him, and I'll be patient. He deserves to be loved just as much as I deserve to live," I said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, her accent now carrying a hint of Italian, which I hadn't noticed before.
"You've got some balls; I like that."